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What if you were supposed to die but someone else can take your place? What if the person who took your place was the person you loved? What if there were 2 of that person? How far would you go to get them back?

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47
JUMP

Mark
Wiland


JUMP BY Nicholas Mitchell The author of “Forgotten Sun”, “Drifting” and “Proper Life”



2


FORWARD FROM SILKWISH PUBLISHING
Nicholas Mitchell was our best author, I-Darren Marshalldiscovered him writing articles on the web, and from there discovered his personal site, filled with writing unlike anything I’d ever read before. Mitchell had a haunting quality. As an author, his work was dark, deeply rooted in the psyche of the human mind. He often pulled on disturbing and twisted mental images to get his point across. As a person however, he was never quite fully there. Sure, Mitchell was a nice guy, but his eyes were completely dark. It was like there was no other color than black when you looked at them. He never seemed to be fully aware of where he was, and he was always rather quiet. Mitchell generally issued us a manuscript every 3 years or so. By the time he had gotten to this book, I could tell that he was getting tired of his work. He was getting tired of writing stuff that he felt was either slipping in quality or essentially the same story repeatedly. You had to admire that about Mitchell, he had a hunger for new content that could never be matched or quenched. So when Mitchell told me that for the next 4 months he would be shutting himself off from the world, living only in a rented home to write his next book, I was a bit curious as to why. He wanted solitude, so that I understand, but he was so quiet about it. What we present here is what we could find of those 4 months of Mitchell’s life in that house, and some scraps of his book, which you may find and quite eerily similar to what he actually experienced. God bless you Mitchell, wherever you are now. -Darren Marshall/President & Founder



3


Often times it’s said that a picture is worth 1,000 words. But that’s a stupid assumption when the picture is of my teeth. I do find it fascinating how you can evoke such a reaction from such a simple image. Symbolism is petty. I’ve started working on the book. It’s been about 4 years since my last book. I’ve been having trouble concen

 4






I
should’ve
been
like
my
father
and
gone
into
auto
mechanics.


What
a
terrible
idea.
Nobody
wants
to
look
at
my
teeth.


Teeth:
8
in
quantity


You know, often I find myself writing more in this journal than in a fictional format, such as a novel. I get paid to write fiction, yet jotting down my frivolous thoughts about my boring day to day life has become much more entertaining to me. Maybe it’s because writing for pay is such a dumb thing to do. I don’t write for money. I write to save myself from imploding unto myself. I bet that these little jotted entries will benefit me more in the long run than my actual works of fiction.
I
just
made
you
turn
your
head.


notes about the book:
• The heroine is actually heroic, and not some girl who needs saving every god damn second • Antagonist is actually evil, but in a realistic way • No bloodshed. It’s overrated, and it’s unrealistic. Psychological fright is much more effective and terrifying than gallons of blood anyway. Trying to write decent fiction is a lot like trying to pen a catchy tune. The times you don’t try are the times you’ll succeed. Sat down to write. It’s 4:47. Hoping to get in a few hours. rough draft #1: Charles couldn’t tell from the state of mind that he was in if he was just upset, or actually dying from mental breakdowns. Marianne hadn’t returned his calls, and his brother was clearly trying to keep him from making contact with her. “Damnit, this is exactly what I need less of,” Charles muttered to himself. Oftentimes he found that speaking out loud, even if just to himself, was a clearer way of expressing his inner thoughts than just listening to them in his head, like some kind



5


of mindless conscious. Charles sat down and sighed, rubbing his forehead, and before he knew it, he could see himself, pleading with Marianne for another chance, but would he even give himself a second chance? And if not, then why in the hell should she? -end rough draftOne of the biggest problems with being a writer is when you start to realize that what you do isn’t original. You’ve fallen into something you thought was creative, but was actually genreized years before your grandparents were even conceived. It’s one of the only jobs that makes you truly despise what you do, and love it at the same time. We are creators and yet we’re not creating anything new. Every story has been told. I can write relationships that fall apart because I’ve had plenty of those. The ones I can’t write are the ones with happy endings because I’ve never had one of those. I was almost married once. That was the first mistake I ever made in my life. And on the beach. How cliché can you get? I’d need a second job, as a barista. That’d be about as cliché as I could get.

You
can’t
trust
the
ones
you
love,
you
can’t
trust
the
 ones
you
hate,
and
you
can’t
trust
yourself.


notes:
I don’t want Charles to be religious because I’m not religious. Marianne is trying to force some form of religion, or guidance, upon him and thusly making him uncomfortable. It’s a major obstacle for the two of them. Kind of like Jodie. Sound familiar, Jodie?



6


I understand that dreams awaken the creative mind. Being a writer, it’s one of the first creative writing exercises that we learn to try. We wake up, take out a pencil and pad and jot down the dream while it’s still fresh but I am not about to write down that I dreamt about deer. That’s just stupid. Now, had they been deer solving a mystery as they fly around in dirigibles then it’d make for some at least humorous fiction, but just deer, standing around in the woods. That’s not funny. That’s just boring. I’m not writing that. This house is getting cold. I think it’s time to bring in some firewood. My brother Kieran stopped by today. Nice to have some company, and stop writing for a bit. He didn’t have too much to say about what I was doing, but he did bring me alcohol. What a good brother.
A
FEW
SELF
NOTES
 Write
something
good.
Original.
Creative.
Don’t
do
the
same
 thing
you’ve
been
doing.
 Keep
in
mind
that
these
profits
aren’t
entirely
yours.
Nor
are
 you
the
reason
the
profits
fail
to
exceed
their
potential.
 You
aren’t
important
to
them,
you
are
expandable.
They
can
 and
will
always
find
better
to
fill
the
void.
 Try
writing
from
the
heart,
what
you
feel
and
think,
instead
of
 what
you
wish
others
would
feel
and
think.
Write
as
yourself,
 not
as
a
character.
It
feels
more
honest
and
real
then.
 On
page
31,
there
are
17
typos.
Just
remember
to
self‐check
 before
submitting
manuscript.





7


rough draft #2: Charlotte hadn’t told Jared anything as of yet. In fact there wasn’t much to tell. All she had witnessed was a mere beating, and she wasn’t sure that the girl had actually been killed, due to her having left before she could see it resolved. She didn’t want to become too involved.

“That’s the problem with the world,” Charlotte thought as she sat, staring towards the officers desk, “Nobody wants to get involved. Everyone wants to be as uninvolved and far removed from situations as possible, especially those that don’t immediately affect them.”
Adrian’s
Number


1072499


Just then, the door to the station rang open and two men were pushing Charles in. Charlotte looked up just long enough to see him saunter on by, and then she got up and walked behind them.


“What happened?!” she shouted, “Where’s my sister?!” “I have no idea, and they won’t let me answer anything!” Charles shouted back, “The last time I saw her was on November 13th!” “No calls, no anything?” Charlotte asked as she tried to muscle her way past the two cops. They stopped and turned Charles around to face her. “I don’t know any more than you do, Char, and if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t discuss it in front of people who to convict me for something I not only know nothing about, but had no hand in doing.” -end rough draftI can’t sleep through the night right now. Damnit.



8


Adrian called me today. He’s my agent. He was my writing partner back in college, but our ideals grew apart, even though our friendship stayed rock solid. Eventually he became an agent and now he helps me. I’m glad he called because I didn’t have his office number, I had just lost it. He told me that Darren is starting to get rather sick of my delays in manuscripts, even just a few pages here and now to prove I’m actually working. Well Darren, I fucked your wife. How do you like that? That current enough for you? The problem with Darren is he thinks everything in the world is perfect. He’s a nice guy, but with unrealistic ideas, how can anyone take him seriously? I’m surprised he’s gotten as far as he has. And he says he “owes it all to Jesus Christ”. People who thank Jesus for things bug me, not only for my being unreligious, but also for the fact that Jesus didn’t help me become a writer, I just did become a writer. It wasn’t that hard. I just sat down and typed. Jesus didn’t teach me anything. Stop using the lord for things you did yourself. Jodie’s problem too. She was actually a bit worse. Where as Darren keeps his religious beliefs inside most of the time, Jodie always was bringing them to the forefront. She thanked God for having met me, for having me be so good at what I do, for giving her a wonderful family, getting a good job. It got to the point where I couldn’t stand to be around her. I loved Jodie, still do, but shit, the girl needs to get a grip. She started to pray for my soul to be saved at the end of it all. I couldn’t take it anymore. Even though it had been I who had poised the question, she was the one to end it by rejection. She did give me this cross however, stating it would “help me on my road to eternal salvation and self discovery.” I’ll have you know I partake in “self discovery” every afternoon, Jodie.



9




10


If you squint hard enough, sometimes you can understand what I’m writing. The only thing you can do for certain TRANSCRIPTED
FROM
MY
CONVERSATION
 WITH
ADRIAN
 people is to try and open their eyes to the ME:
It
was
a
lot
of
bullshit,
the
woman
is
a
mess,
 which
doesn’t
surprise
me,
given
how
fucked
up
 truth. Not just your Darren
is
 truth, because that’s 
 subjective to your ADRIAN:
Well
you
have
to
take
it
for
what
it
is.
 It’s
a
loveless
marriage.
Clearly
she
is
a
trophy
 reality. I mean the god wife
who
married
him
just
for
his
money,
but
his
 honest truth, like religion
tries
to
disguise
her
as
some
saint
he
 black is black, white happened
to
find.
 
 is white, the sky is ME:
The
only
religious
thing
she’s
ever
said
was
 fuckin’ blue. No when
she
screamed
“oh
fucking
god”.
 matter what your 
 ADRIAN:
Well
you
can
only
do
so
much
for
her.

 reality is, these things Ellen’s
a
very
smart
woman,
but
she’s
clearly
got
 stand alone as facts. some
fuckin’
issues.
 Good, honest, 
 ME:
Obviously,
look
who
she
married.
 truthful, never to be 
 changed facts. Whether you accept them as facts though is on your own. They’re facts whether you like it or not. And if you choose not to believe them, then you’re just really fucking retarded. The problem with opinions is that everyone has one, and the problem with free speech is that everyone is entitled to it. The world would be a lot safer and easier to live in if we all just didn’t speak to one another. Communication is pointless, people are overrated and life is a terminal illness.
ADRIAN:
Was
she
good?
 
 ME:
She
was
excellent,
actually.
Makes
me
even
 angrier
when
I
bone
a
woman
who’s
married
and
 turns
out
to
be
fantastic
in
bed.
It’s
like,
“She’s
 married,
you
can’t
be
with
her,
and
guess
what,
 she
can
rock
your
world
too!”
 
 ADRIAN:
Fuckin’
Darren.
What
an
idiot.




11


AN INTERVIEW WITH BEST SELLING AUTHOR: NICHOLAS MITCHELL Gregory Combs reporting DEC. 17 TH , 2002 I’ve only met Nick a few times, but after his 2nd big book, it seemed like a good time to catch up with the man who can only be described as a “genre bending genius”. I sat down with Nick at a small café and we shot the talk for a good 45 minutes. GC: Mitchell, what makes you want to combine, meld or bend genres? It seems like writing a book is hard enough, but to do what you’re doing seems almost suicidal NM: I didn’t want to just keep writing the same thing. Not just the same thing everyone else had already written, but the same thing I’ve written. I like to keep myself fresh so I know I’m never stale. I thought that with “The Proper Life” I could introduce genres subtly so that the reader wouldn’t be put off, but they had to be introduced early enough in as well so that the reader doesn’t suddenly get to say, page 70 and go, “Wait, now it’s a romance story with time travel?!” Because that’s how you lose your readers. GC: I know that your first book was a national success, and this one just broke the sales from the first, and the last 3 books the company has published. Does this make you happy? Because from other things I’ve read since those figures came out, you sounded a bit snarky towards the whole thing. NM: You need to make a mockery of what you do. If you can’t poke fun at your own job or creation, then how can you even take it seriously? I write books. Those books are dangerously



12


Listen
to
me,
being
all
pretentious
and
acting
like
I’m
something
special
in
this
interview.
It’s
 fucking
disgusting.
God
I
hate
myself.
Jodie
was
right,
I
really
DO
have
an
air
of
ego
incompetence.


close to being fucking stupid, at some points, but that’s ok, because I’m fine with it. If the author is fine with it, the reader should be fine with it. Authors should write the stories that they want to tell, not something that the reader wants to hear. rough draft #3: (OPENING MONOLOGUE) There are those days. The ones you hate. The ones you can’t seem to win. Those days were Charles’s every day. He spelt his Monday morning’s with a “u”. Charles had the same routine every morning as it was; he would get up, pour himself a few cups of coffee, watch old 70s sitcoms for about an hour or two, and then he might start to give a shit about looking for someplace to work. Charles had realized back when he was about 16 that the world wasn’t fair and therefore it didn’t matter if he ever succeeded because nobody would ever remember him in 100 years for anything he did while he was alive anyways. The only thing that could make the day worse was constantly being rejected by the companies he’d applied for merely 24 hours before. Every morning when he’d wake up his answering machine would be filled to the brim, bursting with 13 messages from companies telling him why he wasn’t good enough to work with them. -end rough draftNOTES
ABOUT
CHARLES:
 Charles
is
25,
brown
hair,
unemployed.
 Based
loosely
on
my
brother,
looks
wise.
 Nice
attitude,
and
in
love
with
Marianne.
 
 HISTORY
WITH
MARIANNE:
 Marianne
and
Charles
have
been
together
 for
4
years,
on
and
off
for
1,
and
they
don’t
 see
eye‐to‐eye
most
of
the
time.
However,
 even
though
they
find
themselves
at
a
 disagreement
a
lot
of
times,
they
still
have
 a
lot
of
love
for
one
another.
 
 They
met
through
Marianne’s
sister,
 Charlotte.
Marianne
is
the
only
girl
Charles
 has
ever
really
loved.
But
she
can’t
see
 that.
She’s
too
wrapped
up
in
herself,
and
 her
religion
to
notice
his
feelings
for
her.
 It’s
all
too
familiar.
 




13


Called Adrian today again. His number is ever so familiar to me. Not because I’ve called it before, but because I’ve felt I’ve seen it somewhere else. Anyway, Adrian didn’t have much to say. He told me that Darren wants a few pages before next Thursday, so I guess I’ll just type up some bullshit to send to him. I’ll send him about 4-7 pages worth of material, and that should be enough to keep him off my ass for a few weeks or so. Think I’ll go for a walk today. It’s snowy outside, but not too cold. Looks like good walking weather. Weird though, the area is packed with snow but the temperature is 74. Alright. I’ll check back in later. DREAM #1 i am writing my dream. it’s 2:42 in the morning and i’ve just woken up. i saw deer again, lots of them, and they just stared at me as i stood there, bewildered. heard crying off in the distance. then a gunshot, and in my hand i was holding Jodie’s cross. END DREAM You know, often times I wake up and don’t remember writing things. I remember writing that last night, but it’s rare that I regret writing something unless it’s total garbage. I hate that stupid dream write up. It’s snowing again today, hoping to get in a good 10 hours or so of just writing, but before I can even start, I have to go and fax these bullshit pages to Darren. Just saw this outside my window about 8 minutes ago.



14


Fuckin’ deer.



15


DECEMBER



16


The first thing they teach you in Writing 101 is that endings are the key. They are the entire thing. You can’t write something and just have a bad ending. It has to be integral to your plot. It has to come out of everything that has happened. The resolution is what you’ve been selling the entire time. Everything you’ve plotted, planned developed, whatever, is for the ending, and if it sucks, then it can destroy even the best of stories. Some argue against this-and it even applies to life in generalthat the journey is more important than the destination. The funny this, in life, this is true. In fiction, this is bullshit. In life, the journey is more important. In fiction, the destination is what matters. So which one is the one you should follow? If you want your story to be realistic, shouldn’t the journey be more important than where you end up? Or is everything just plain pointless? Example. You can’t have a murder story that ends happily ever after. The murder in a fiction is resolvable, but most times, murder in real life goes unresolved. A lot of the times they never even find the killer, or any suspects whatsoever. The best example-and most complicated-is the time travel idea. The awesome thing about time travel as a storypoint or plot is that nobody has ever actually time traveled, so there’s not a bunch of people reading your story going, “This is absolute bullshit! That’s not how you do it!” You can pretty much get away with anything. Except there are rules, just like every other genre or idea. The rules however seemed to be able to bend to anyone’s whim.



17


Take the rules in a time travel story. If you really broke it down, you’d be angry at how much time you wasted reading fucking time travel stories. Your hero, let’s called him Dave, travels through time after his girlfriend is murdered. He travels all the way back to when they first met. The first problem is that you can’t change the past, because you weren’t there to begin with. Second, you can’t change the past because any changes you make will be self corrected by the universe itself, because you weren’t there to begin with, therefore your changes are fucking pointless. The end result is the end result. Period. Even if Dave somehow manages to save Sally, she’ll still end up dead the exact same way. It’s because while it’s their past, it’s also Dave’s present. When he travels back in time, that’s his present and his past. The other thing wrong with time travel is that you create paradoxes. It’s a lot like astral projection. The idea is that your mind can consciously visit past or future events, but when you witness those events, you change the past or future, in the smallest ways or the largest ways. The difference is that it’s just your mind, and when your mind travels like this, it consumes the past or future self of you. But no matter what changes you make, they won’t stick, because not how they were supposed to end up anyway. The end doesn’t justify the means. The universe has a way of course correcting itself. I write genre bending books, believe me, I’ve done my god damned research. Anyway, that’s all I have to say about that.



18


NOTES
 • Shakespeare
wasn’t
a
writer.
He
 was
a
storyteller.
There
IS
a
 difference.
 To
tell
a
good
story,
you
must
have
 conflict.
You
must
have
resolution.
 You
cannot
just
leave
things
 unanswered.
You
cannot
just
 suddenly
say,
“Well,
it’s
too
bad
I
 didn’t
figure
this
out
before
I
 started.”
Your
audience
will
not
 come
back
for
your
other
outings.
 Don’t
kill
your
main
character.
It
is
 a
shock,
indeed,
but
as
original
or
 creative
as
it
ends
up
being,
your
 sales
will
plummet.
Not
that
I
give
a
 shit.
Most
of
these
notes
came
from
 an
editor
I
knew.
I’m
merely
 compiling
them
here
for
my
own
 amusement.
 Always
have
a
backup
plan
in
your
 story.
Something
out
of
left
field
in
 order
to
keep
the
reader
hooked.


rough draft #4 Charlotte couldn’t sleep. She had spent the last 3 years of her life wasting away in a terrible relationship, and the funniest part was that she missed him at nights. She missed having someone there. She felt more secure with someone else in the room; not so alone. Before she knew it, she had dialed Charles and they were laying in the living room. Charlotte was on the floor, holding an empty wine bottle, Charles on the couch smoking a cigarette. Charlotte watched as he blew smoke rings out into the apartment. Finally, Charlotte broke the silence. “It’s never too late to fuck up your life, I guess,” she said, “I mean, here we are. You’re torn apart because of Marianne, and I can’t tell Jared anything because of what happened to me in my last







Today
while
typing
I
realized
that
I
 didn’t
want
this
story
to
be
published.
I
 wanted
it
hidden
from
the
world.
 I
had
turned
my
own
ex
into
a
fictional
 character,
and
the
sad
thing
was,
I
was
 more
in
love
with
the
fictional
her
then
 the
real
her
that
I
felt
if
others
read
the
 fictional
her,
they’d
be
her
lovers
to.
 I
think
I
really
DO
need
therapy.


relationship.” “Yeah, kind of terrible,” Charles replied, “But before you know it, you’ll hit middle aged and then die, so not too much longer.”



19


Charlotte admired his optimistic view. -end rough draftMy father left when I was 4. I wonder if that has anything to do with all my stories revolving around broken relationships and shattered hearts. When my mom asked why he was leaving, he told her that he could do better. He died a year later, with a prostitute in a drive by shooting. He certainly showed her. I think your life experience certainly taints the way you create fictional life. You’ve experienced one thing one way and you don’t believe it can happen any other way. Your entire fictional universe is broken, then, and by that means, a bit unbelievable. To be a really good writer, you need to put away some of your own feelings and think, “Is this really how a relationship would go, or am I just writing the way I’ve experienced it, or seen it experienced?” Be realistic, because that’s what sells. That was ultimately the biggest mistake I made when first trying to pitch to publishers. My manuscripts were filled to the spine with loads of unrealistic, unbelievable situations with people who wouldn’t actually react to those situations the way they did had they been real people. I was writing from real, personal experience, and it’s not my experience that’s right. It’s the collective experience that’s right. But fuck them, I hate the collective experience



20


BACKGROUND CHECK ON NICHOLAS MITCHELL Retrieved by Darren Marshall from the FBI NOTE: When Darren received this, he went through and read it. However, as he came to learn more, he started to highlight parts of things that he thought were important. Some have yet to be decoded as to what they may have been important for. Nicholas Anthony Mitchell was born in Wisconsin, April 17, 1988. His father left the family when he was 4. His mother was Amy Gilles Mitchell and father was Bernard Elliot Mitchell. He has a brother named Keiran Robert Mitchell. He’s been writing for Darren Marshall of Silkwish Publishing. He was working on his 4th novel when he began to show signs of a nervous breakdown, possibly due to the stressful relationship between himself and his ex girlfriend. Mitchell is still being searched for. It is believed that at the time of his disappearance, Mitchell was last traveling with a man named Benjamin Riley Archer. Archer’s prints have been found inside Mitchell’s house, but there’s on conclusive evidence at the moment as to where he may have ended up or where they were headed. As best we can figure, time of departure was December 8th at 8:48. At this moment in time, Benjamin Archer is wanted by the United States Government for the kidnapping of Nicholas Mitchell.



21


December 5th I can hardly remember last night. I remember my phone ringing, but there was no message. It’s hard to write on no sleep, I’m going back to bed. It was Adrian who called. I probably sat for about 15 minutes staring at his number before I called him back, because I swear to god I have seen it somewhere before. 1072499 I just can’t place it. But I swear I’ve se

[journal cuts out midsentence]
The doorbell had rung and Nick looked up from where he was seated, staring at the door. He put his pen down and then headed for the door. As he pulled it open, he didn’t see anything, until he looked down and noticed a small brown package at his feet. Nick rubbed his head, then bent down and picked it up. As he walked to the coffee table, he set it down and then sat down on the couch and started to examine it. It looked beaten up, like it had had a long journey from where it was shipped to where it had arrived. Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen, then dug the tip into the tape on the box and started to tear it open. The top flaps fell apart and he cautiously reached inside. He felt something very small, rectangle shaped almost. His fingers closed around it and he pulled it out.



22




23


Nick stared at it for minutes on end, almost too scared to look away. “The fuck is this?” he said out loud. Finally, he stood up and walked to his closet. Nick pulled the closet door open and retrieved the video camera his brother had gotten him for his birthday. Nick kneeled before the TV and started to plug it in accordingly, then pressed a button and the VCR on the camera released. Nick pushed the tape inside the camera and then walked back to the couch as the tape started to play. At first, it was just static. In fact, the first 40 seconds or so were just static, and Nick started to wonder if someone was just playing a joke on him. Just as he was about to get up and shut it off, a few images cut onto the screen. He immediately recognized the man on screen as Keiran. Nick sat back down slowly and watched. It was Keiran holding the camera as he looked at their mother, sitting on a towel on the beach. Nick grabbed the remote and knocked the volume up a few notches. “It’s nice right?” Keiran asked, and their mother smiled at the camera. “What time is it? They’re late.” Amy said, and Keiran checked his watch on screen. “Uh, they’re about 10 minutes late, so it’s like, 8:47 right now. Hey, do you know why Nick asked us to come?” Keiran asked, sitting down, the camera square on Amy’s face. On the couch, Nick shuffled, he had a hard time looking at his mother. “Of course not, I would’ve told you and wouldn’t be so upset about them being late had I known, right?” she replied. Suddenly the sound of a car door banging shut was heard off screen and Keiran whipped the camera around. Nick was walking up towards them on the beach, holding Jodie in his arms.



24


Nick stared at the screen. It was weird, not just seeing his mother, but also seeing Jodie. He hadn’t seen her in months now. On the screen, Nick hugged his brother, then kissed his mother and Jodie did the same. After the warm welcomes, Keiran aimed the camera right at them, and Nick was smiling. “Come on, what’s goin’ on?” he asked. Nick looked at Jodie and she held out her hand. Amy could be heard off screen gasping, as it sunk in. An enormous diamond was on Jodie’s finger. Jodie kissed Nick, and they smiled. “Congrats man,” Keiran said, and he shook Nick’s hand. Then the video cut out. Nick stared down at the package and noticed the return address. It was 065347899. That’s when it dawned on him that he had heard the number 47 showing up a lot. Just as Nick started to stand up, hands on his knees, the video started to cut back to images. Nick stopped and stared. It was the same video as he had just watched, but slowed down. He stared as he heard distorted voices and the images were slow and grainy. That’s when he looked at the bottom corner of the screen and saw the date this video had been taken on. July 24th, 1999 Nick’s eyes widened. It was Adrians number. 072499. That was where he had seen it before. Nick was starting to sweat now, and just as he reached for the remote control, a man in complete silhouette appeared on screen. When he started to speak, Nick noticed his voice was altered and warbly.



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“Hello Nick,” said the man, “You have questions and I have answers. So please pay attention, because once this tape ends, you cannot rewatch it. Think of our universe like a record. Compare a point on the label with a point on the records outer edge. They both make a completed circle in the same amount of time, right? But the point on the records edge has to make a bigger circle in the same time, so it goes faster. Two points at two speeds, even though they both make the same revolutions per minute. Our universe, Nick, is the inner part of this record. At the end of this tape, a sentence will appear on screen. It’s going to be a website address, and I’m going to need you to go to it. And you’re going to have to accept its challenge. I will be arriving to see you soon, a few days probably, so just stay safe and calm until then. My name is Benjamin Archer, and I’m going to save your life.” The tape cut to black. Then the words www.enter47.com appeared on screen. Nick stared at the screen, then it cut to static and the camera started to make sparks. Inside the camera, the tape was being crushed by the mechanics. Nick leaned back and wiped his face. “Holy shit,” he said, then he got up and walked to his computer. He sat down and brought up his web browser. Nick started to punch the site address in, and a black screen came up, with an image of Jodie in the center. Above her, in green was the name of the site, and then below her picture in green text it said, “Do you want to save her?” Nick stared at the page, then looked back at the package. He didn’t know what had just happened.



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December 8th Nick woke up and felt something brushing against his nose. He brushed it away and saw it was a leaf, then he sat up and found her was in the woods. Nick scrambled to sit up, then rustled his fingers through his hair and shook his head, leaves falling out. Nick leaned up against a tree and looked around, his head turning fast. “Hello?!” he shouted, “Hey! Hey is anybody here?!” No answer. Nick turned and started to walk into the woods. He passed tree by tree, his hands reaching out to steady his footing. He stopped after a few minutes and leaned against one, his hand on his face. “Jesus…” he said, then he heard it. Rustling. Leaves being parted. Nick started to turn and jog towards the sound. As he reached a tree and the top of a small sloping hill, he saw bushes rustle, and then Jodie came running out. Nick squinted, confused by what he was witnessing. “Jodie?” he asked, and he watched her. Jodie turned and turned in circles, clearly looking for someone. Jodie finally stopped, cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, “WHERE ARE YOU?! WHERE…ARE…YOU!?” Nick started to reach out and was about to respond, when she continued. “YOU SLIMY BASTARD! COME OUT HERE!” she screamed, panting, tears rolling down her face, “THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOUR FUCKING FAULT!”



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Nick stayed put, and moved back a little behind the tree. He stared and watched Jodie pulled a gun out of the back of her pants. “WHERE ARE YOU BENJAMIN ARCHER!? ” Nick gasped for breath and then woke up. He clenched his sheets. Nick rolled onto his side and stared at his clock. It was about 9 in the morning. He sighed, then sat up, and got out of bed. At about twelve that afternoon, Nick met Keiran in a small restaurant about 15 minutes away from the house. It was supposed to be a Chinese restaurant, but they served anything. Steaks, burritos; you order it and they’d cook it. Nick stared at his glass while Keiran was cutting his burger in half. “I think you work too much, honestly,” said Keiran, “And you know that that sort of stress can put a lot of pressure on you mentally. You can have a breakdown, work overload. Take a break. Come with me back to my place. Cheryl and I will take care of you for a few days, you can relax, we’ll go hunting.” Nick rolled his eyes, and took a sip of his water. “Do you remember taking video of me and Jodie on the beach, with mom?” he asked and Keiran thought for a second, then nodded. “Yeah, I-I remember that. Vaguely, but I do. Why? You been talking to Jodie?” Keiran asked, and Nick looked down at the table and laid his head on his arms. Jodie was an off topic subject.



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Nick didn’t look up, but asked, “Keiran, you read lots of sci fi stuff, you think astral projection is real?” Keiran leaned back in his chair and took a bite from his burger, then nodded, “Absolutely, but I have no proof of it. Why?” “I’ve been havin’ these dreams. I wake up, and I’m in the woods, and I see Jodie, and then I hear a gunshot, and a scream. Am I…am I seeing something that is there, or is it just a lie?” Nick asked and Keiran smiled. “I think you’re overtired and overworked, frankly.” Said Keiran, “And if this worries you so much, call Jodie.” Nick and Jodie hadn’t spoken in about a year, at least not directly. He had had almost no updates in her life, of how she was doing, if she was seeing anyone, or anything. The way he figured it, the more time apart they spent, the better they’d be when they finally decided to speak again, but as Nick sat on his couch back at his home-staring at the phone-he just couldn’t bring himself to pick it up and call. He looked over at a photo on the table and smiled a bit. It was their 2 year anniversary. Jodie had her arms around Nick and was kissing his cheek, and he looked like he had it all together. But that’s the thing about photographs. They’re designed to lie. Nick finally reached for the phone and picked it up, then dialed her number and sat back and turned the TV down. As it rang, he was watching what appeared to be a terrible car accident on Highway 47 in Wisconsin. That’s when it dawned on him. Why was a news channel in NYC playing an accident from Wisconsin? Before he could dwell on it, Jodie answered the phone. “Hello?” she asked, and Nick just breathed. He clenched his fingernails into his palm and forced himself to speak. “J-Jodie? It’s Nick.” He forced out, and he heard her sigh. “Hi Nick, um…it’s…it’s been a while.” She said.



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Nick smiled, “Yeah, almost a year. How-how are you?” he asked. “I’m…I’m fine. How are you? Are you writing?” “Yeah, well, kind of. Um, you’re getting your degree in psychology right?” Nick asked, and he heard papers shuffle. “Yeah?” “Listen, can you come over, because, I need-I need to talk to you about something. It’s really important, Jodie.” He said and he heard her stop typing. That meant she knew it was true. “Are you ok?” “Yeah, I just…Jodie…I think I’m going to die.” Said Nick. Just then there was a knock on the door and Nick stood up and said, “Jodie, I-I have to call you back.” Nick hung up and strode to the door, reached out and pulled it wide open. A man with a barely receding hairline stood on his door, dressed in a black suit. He smiled and held out his hand. “I take it you saw the news,” said the man. Nick looked at his hand and shook it. “Ye-yeah? Do I know you?” asked Nick, and the man smiled. “Hello Nick, my name is Benjamin Archer, and I’m going to save your life.” Said Ben.



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Benjamin Archer 8 years in the future July 24th



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Benjamin Riley Archer woke up everyday at 8:18 in the morning. He would head straight to his cd player and put in a Carole King album, and put it on repeat, as the song “Jazzman” played over and over. Ben would then brush his teeth, read his paper, and eat his breakfast. Ben would fold the paper up, and place it inside a small cabinet, then head outside. He lived alone. Isolated. Deep in the mountains, for safety purposes only. Ben would open the door and stand on the front porch, his hunting rifle over his shoulder. He had done this every day, for the last 2 years. As he walked through the woods, he thought about what had brought him to where he was now. The events that had transpired. Ben turned at the sound of a twig snap and stopped midthought. He lifted the rifle to his face and stared into the barrel, waiting. Then he heard it again and saw a deer walking through the clearing. Ben licked his lips, put his finger on the trigger and stared, then just as he pulled the trigger, a man ran out in front of him and he fired. The man dropped instantly. Ben dropped his rifle as the deer scattered off and Ben rushed to the man’s side. Ben skidded to his side and dropped to his knees, leaning the man up against a tree trunk, then tore the man’s shirt open. “What…what’re you doing out here?!” Ben screamed, “Hey! HEY!” The man barely opened his eyes, his breathing slowing, “I-I don’t know…wha…what’s…where am I?” “Are you ok?” Ben asked but the man started to shut his eyes, and Ben tapped his face, “Hey! Do not die!” The man opened his eyes and looked at him, “Where am I?” he asked again and Ben saw he was slipping into death. “What’s your name!?” Ben shouted and the man shut his eyes. “Ni….Nick. Nicholas Mitchell.” He said and died. Ben stared at his face and then stood up.



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“Damnit!” he screamed. Ben turned around and looked at Nick lying against the tree and saw he was gone. Ben felt his own face, and then rushed back to the house. Ben pushed the door to his house open and ran straight for a drawer near the staircase. He opened it up and pulled out a red file and opened it up. He then pulled out a handgun and put it into the back of his pants. He stood over the file, looking down and then walked out, heading to his car. There was only one person Ben knew who could fix this problem, and she wasn’t about to see him without a fight. Ben pulled up in the mud at the warehouse, rain pouring down upon him. He pulled his coat over his head and rushed to the front, knocking on the door, then beside him a crackling started. Ben turned and looked at the small speakerbox. “What?” the woman asked, “Who is it?” “It’s Benjamin.” He stated. “Go away. I want nothing to do with you,” the woman replied, “You’ve done enough damage.” “This isn’t about us or me, this is about someone else, and I need your help! It happened again!” Ben shouted. The little red light stopped clicking and a small slot in the door opened up and staring back at him were two large blue eyes. “It was him?” “Looked like the same guy.” “And?” Ben hesitated. “I killed him.” “You-you! Ugh, come inside.” Said the woman and the door clicked open. Ben elbowed his way inside, and smiled.



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“You are an enormous idiot.” Said the woman, and Ben nodded. “Nice to see you too, Zoe.” He said, then handed her the file. Zoe took it and sat down on a metal table beside the door. Zoe was young, much younger than Ben; maybe late twenties. She had short blonde hair and oval glasses, and was petite. She swung her legs as she mouthed what she read. Finally, after the 4th page, she stopped and looked at him. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure that it was Nicholas Mitchell?” she asked. “Yes. I’m sure.” He said, “And this wasn’t a rare thing. His jumps were getting more frequent, and more unstable. More undetermined.” “We have to fix this.” Zoe said. Ben chuckled and she turned back to look at him, a hand on her hip. “What’s funny?” “Do you really think we should fix it? I the universe went through all the trouble of sending him to that exact location at that exact moment…maybe he’s supposed to die, Zoe.” Said Ben. She walked forward and leaned down, her hands grabbing the table, her nose right against his. “What you did…you can never undo. There’s no fixing the past, Ben. But you can prevent things from happening in the future. You of all people should know that.” She said, “My sister died for your beliefs. She was stupid enough to listen to a brilliant man…a brilliant man spouting brilliant things in a not so brilliant way. You are responsible for her dying, Ben.” Ben looked down and nodded, “Yes, I am-“ “No, you don’t get it. You’re not the one who lost someone. You’re…you’re not the one who suffers everyday.” Said Zoe, as she turned, putting on hand on the wall, the other rubbing her eyes, “You didn’t lose someone like that. You can’t change that future. That’s why I’m helping you. Because…because someone else shouldn’t have to go through that again.” Ben nodded, then stood up and stopped behind her.



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“I think we’re in agreement.” He said. Zoe turned and he pushed some hair out of her eyes, and he smiled. “We need a plan.” “I always have a plan.” “You know that there has to be a vessel, right?” she asked. Ben nodded and she laughed. “What?” Ben asked, looking at her, surprised. “I just like it when you show emotion.” She said, “My sister did too.” “You’re sister didn’t deserve what happened to her. It should’ve been me.” Said Ben and Zoe nodded. “No, because if it had been you, then Nick would be screwed. You survived for a reason. And that reason is to save Nicholas Mitchell’s life.” She said, “Now, we know he’s still alive in the past. The mind astral projects.” Zoe started walking down a hallway and down a long flight of stairs, Ben right behind her. “Even if his body died here, his mind could still jump back to the past. He would re-inhabit that body. When you jump, you take over that form of yourself. Think-think of our universe like a record. Think of our universe like a record. Compare a point on the label with a point on the records outer edge. They both make a completed circle in the same amount of time, right? But the point on the records edge has to make a bigger circle in the same time, so it goes faster. Two points at two speeds, even though they both make the same revolutions per minute. Our universe is the inner part of this record. The second universe is the outer part. There’s only two. So, in parallel universe, there are multiple versions of us. Each alternative is equally real, however, it is our consciousness that chooses which one to perceive as the ‘reality’ that we experience. In the same way that we are able to view moments in the past, we can view them in the future, and by astral projecting, we can



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actually occupy the body of our past or future self. But not for long. That’s why it always jumps back to where it’s from, unless that body is useless, like the one you killed.” Said Zoe. She turned a corner and flipped on a light switch, and they were now in a small padded room, and Ben noticed on the wall was a small window. He approached it, and peered inside, unsure of what he’d see. Inside, he saw a small metal room. “What is this room for?” he asked, and she waved it off. “Nevermind it. There’s a catch, Ben. Physics principles show us that when we observe an event this way, that event is changed. Those changes can be subtle or profound. Some events are so big-like dying-that the event may stretch across to the other parallel lives that the person had, and this ‘fate’ may have been so big in his or her life that it would have taken a much bigger jump to a parallel life in order to avoid it.” Said Zoe. Ben nodded, and then took a seat. “How does one start astral projecting?” Ben asked, his hands folded. “Some people’s minds are just wired a certain way. It’s like being left or right handed. There’s something in the brain that is not connected right that changes the dexterity. Same thing here. Something just missing. Other people…such as yourself…don’t have this connection, and it has to be created.” Said Zoe. Ben squinted, then leaned forward. “And how the hell do you create something like that?” he asked. Zoe smiled, her bright red lips being glinted by the overhead lights. “Frequencies. Brain waves. Charged by electricity. Your brain is already charged by electricity. Little neurons shooting in and out, but if you amplify that, you can achieve it. Your body will be here though, and that frequency cannot change while your consciousness is gone, or else your body will shut down. Now Ben, I’m going to need you to go into that room.” Said Zoe,



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pointing at the small window. Ben turned and looked, biting his lip, then turned back and smiled. “This is going to hurt isn’t it?” he asked. “It’s a possibility, but don’t act like you don’t deserve it.” Zoe replied. Ben stood up, clapped his hands together and started towards the room. He pulled open the door and entered, hearing his shoes clang against the metal floor. As he looked around, he noticed there wasn’t anything but metal inside the room. Zoe stood in the doorframe with a handful of wires. Ben nodded, sat down and Zoe walked to the chair. “This may be a bit jarring, but it’s how it’s done.” She said, “Now listen, this isn’t going to send you directly to Nick. This is only going to project your consciousness to your past self, so whatever you were doing 8 years ago, at this moment, wherever you are, that’s where you’re going to end up. Ok?” Ben nodded, cleared his throat and leaned his head back. Zoe started to put the suctions all around his scalp, and then attach them all to one battery, which attached to the chair. “How-how do you know this’ll work?” he asked. “It does. Trust me.” She said. “If for some reason, Zoe, I don’t come back…I’m sorry about your sister.” Said Ben, and Zoe smiled, and then kissed his forehead. “Be careful, Ben.” She said, and exited. Ben watched her stand in front of the window and hold up a small remote with a button on it. “Now listen, I can only do this once, ok? So, if the connection breaks, or your past self dies, your consciousness is going to be sent right back here, but it’ll be dangerous. I cannot just disconnect during a projection, so be careful.” Ben winced and Zoe pushed the button.



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Ben opened his eyes and was seated in a chair. His eyes were barely adjusting, and there appeared to be smoke all around him. He coughed, then leaned to his side and reached down, feeling a seatbelt. As he undid it, his eyes came into focus and he saw a destroyed windshield. Ben moved to the door and opened it, falling out into the frozen street, coughing. His hands on the ground, he kept coughing, until finally he sat down and then slowly tried standing up. He appeared to be on a street somewhere alone. A country road, it seemed. He looked to his right and then left, and saw no other cars. As he leaned on his truck, he reached into his jacket pocket and felt something. He pulled it out and it was an inhaler, and he used it, and then breathed a sigh of relief. Ben climbed back into the truck and rooted around, and saw a handgun sitting on the floor. He grabbed it and put it into the back of his pants. He then cupped his hands, blew into them, rubbed them and sighed. “Well….here we go again.” He said, and started down the road.



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PRESENT DAY DECEMBER 8TH



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Ben was smiling as he stared at Nick, who appeared to have lost all sense of reality. Ben finally looked over Nick’s shoulder and nodded. “May I come in?” “Oh, um…yeah, of course.” Said Nick, stepping aside. Ben pushed on into the house and started to pull his gloves off, glancing around and noticed the crucifix hanging over the couch. “That yours?” Ben asked, pointing at it, looking at Nick. Nick crossed his arms and leaned on the wall/ “No, my ex’s.” “Shame.” “And why is that?” Ben turned, his smile now flat, “A cross symbolizes sacrifice and love. It means to take responsibility for all of those things that we didn’t deserve, but have to face, overcome and receive redemption from.” “You sound like a religious man.” Said Nick, as Ben sat on the coffee table. “Used to be, not anymore.” “Why’s that?” Ben didn’t respond. He wiped his suit sleeve and said, “I know you’re having a problem understanding what’s happening to you, and I promise I can give you answers. You’ve been seeing things, like, dreams, but not dreams. That’s why I asked about the cross. A lowercase ‘t’ represents Time, and that’s what a cross is, a lowercase ‘t’. Clocks, hourglasses, sundials and other timepieces both call to mind that time is passing and death is approaching.” Nick sat down in a chair and stared at Ben, glaring. “Go on.” “What you’re experiencing right now, it’s called Astral Projection. Your mind is jumping to a moment in the future,



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and then it returns. Because this happened, you may have witnessed events, but by witnessing them, you’ve changed them. Now, if you want to fix what has happened, you’re going to have to-“ Before Ben could get in another word, there was a knock at the door. Both men turned and looked, then looked back at eachother. “You mind?” Nick asked, starting to stand up. “You have to hear this.” Said Ben, “It’s crucial to a lot of people that you hear what I have to say.” Nick put his hand out, “Just a moment, ok?” He walked to the door and pulled it open, and a beautiful blonde woman was standing there. She had bright blue eyes, and was in tight blue jeans and a black and white stripped top. Nick froze, staring. “J-Jodie, uh, what’re you doing here?” he asked. “You asked me to come.” She said, smiling, “Can I come in?” Nick moved aside and Jodie entered, then noticed Ben. Ben stood up and held his hand out. “Hello, Benjamin Archer.” He said, and she shook it, smiling. “Are you from the publishing company?” she asked and Ben shook his head. “Just visiting.” He said, “But I’ll be going now, I have something to do, so, if you two need your privacy, you may have it.” As Ben started to leave, he put his hand on Nick’s shoulder and crunched it, “I’ll be back. You have 1 hour. It’s important we do this today.” Ben exited and Nick shut the door behind him, then looked at Jodie, smiling. She was looking at the cross over the couch. “You still have it up.” She said, and he nodded. “Yeah, I just…it didn’t feel right taking down something like that. Might be sacrilegious.”



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“Since when do you care about religion?” Jodie asked, as she sat down on the couch. Nick sat beside her and shrugged. “Well, I also don’t own a ladder.” He said and she giggled. “So, on the phone, you said you were scared.” Jodie said and Nick nodded, watching her push her hair out of her eyes. “I am. And I think it’s just gotten worse.” Ben found himself standing outside an apartment building. He was there, though he knew he shouldn’t be. He wasn’t sure what he was doing there to be honest, but he felt he needed to do this. He remembered what the apartment was. Floor 4, 7th apartment. He started up the stairs once inside, and felt his heart beating faster, and he felt his hands sweating. He clenched them as he reached the 4th floor. Once there, he walked down a short hallway and approached the 7th door. He stopped, staring at it. He could walk away right now. He could try and forget it, or he could try and fix things. Ben put his knuckles on the door, shut his eyes, and then knocked. Nothing. He knocked again, and then heard the sound of the door opening. “Ben? I wasn’t expecting you.” said the voice. Soft, wilting, feminine. Ben slowly opened his eyes and saw the pale, soft porcelain skin. He saw the dark brown wavy hair, curled. He saw the pink French tips and he smiled as he looked at the lips, bright red, just like her sisters. “Hello Willow.” He said, “I know, it’s unexpected, but…but I need you speak to you.” Willow smiled, “You can always speak to me, Benjamin.” Ben felt tears well up in his eyes, as he said, “Not always.” Willow put her arms around him and hugged him tight. Ben realized what he was doing the moment he saw her. He also realized the moment he saw her that what he was doing



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was worth a shot, even if he failed. But he wouldn’t. Not this time.



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BOOK TWO “THE VESSEL”



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It was 8:47 in the morning when Ben woke up. The radio had turned on and was playing “Jazzman” by Carole King. Ben stood up and walked out into the small apartment, where he spotted Willow standing at her window, watering her plants. Ben leaned on the doorframe and looked at her, smiling. Willow turned her head and smiled over her shoulder. “Morning.” She said, grinning her sparkling white teeth. “I see you’re still taking care of the Acacia.” Said Ben, as he walked in and sat on the couch. “Of course, it’s the most beautiful plant here. Besides, you got it for me, so I feel obligated.” Said Willow, smiling widely at him. “You know, there’s interesting history behind the Acacia.” “Oh really?” “Yeah,” said Ben, leaning forward and cupping his hands, “The plant is considered sacred because of it’s dual coloration. It blooms white and pinks. But aside from that, it symbolizes the testament of Hiram, which teaches that ‘one must know how to die in order to live again in eternity’. It represents purity and endurance of the soul, and is symbolic when signifying resurrection and immortality.” “So because your love for me is everlasting, you gave me a plant that symbolizes purity and immortality? That’s sweet, Benny.” Said Willow, as she sat down in his lap and kissed him. Ben laughed as he kissed her back. “There’s a lot worse gifts I could’ve given you, believe me.” He said. Then he checked his watch and Willow climbed off him and sat beside him. “What time is this thing scheduled?” she asked, and Ben shrugged. “It’s at 2:24. You still coming?” Ben asked, and she nodded. “Of course, I’m always going to support you.” Ben checked his watch again at 2:20. They were just about to cross the street to the school where Ben was to give his



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presentation. Willow was holding his hand, smiling at him as they walked. Ben looked at her. “Why are you so happy?” he asked. “It’s a beautiful day, and you’re a great guy. I’m just happy. My life has turned out exactly how I planned it to.” She said. Ben nodded, then looked ahead at the crosswalk. “Sounds too perfect.” “Are you sure you’re ok today? Not nervous or anything?” “No, of course not. These people know my theories, they know what I’ve been trying to do, and they’re not ready to back down now. The grant will be wonderful, and your research will be funded. I’m purely the tool being used to help you achieve that goal.” Said Ben. “Believe me,” Willow said, turning to him as they stopped at the crosswalk, “You’re the reason I’m succeeding. I just have the theories; you’re why they’re being turned into fact. Astral Projection is something that could change our world.” Willow leaned in and kissed him, then started to walk across the street as Ben’s cell phone rang. Ben pulled it out and answered. “Hello? Yes, I’m right across from there, tell them I’ll be-“ And that’s when he heard it. The screeching of tires and a scream. Ben dropped his phone. He saw nothing around him. All he could see was Willow, laying facedown in the street as a car pulled back and sped away. Ben started to run to her, and skidded on the gravel as he bent to her side. He grabbed her bloodied, bruised hand and was breathing heavily. Willow’s eyes looked up at him. “Wi-willow?” he asked, “Willow, say something.” “I can’t….I can’t move.” She whispered, “Everything is blurry.”



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“You’re ok,” said Ben, as he squeezed her hand, “You’re ok. It’ll be ok,” and he turned behind him, “Somebody call and ambulance!” “B…benjamin…Ben?” Willow asked. Ben looked back at her, tears running down his face. “Yes?” “It’s not your fault…it’s not. It was an…an accident.” She said. Ben lowered his head to hers, their foreheads touching. “Don’t leave me.” He whispered. Willow shut her eyes and softly kissed him. “I…will always…be with you…always…” Willow whispered. Ben looked at her, and her face slowly hit the pavement. Ben stroked her hair. “W-Willow? Willow? Please don’t leave me…” he sobbed, squeezing her hand harder, “Please don’t leave me…”

Ben stared at it. The plant was there. Just as it had been 4 years earlier. He heard Willow behind him, handing him a cup of coffee. He took it and nodded with a smile, sipping. “You were supposed to meet me tomorrow, not today,” she said and Ben looked at her. “What’s tomorrow?” he asked. “Tomorrow’s when we go to the patent office, remember? We made the appointment like, two weeks ago.” Said Willow as she sat on her coffee table. Ben stared at her. “Right. Of course.” Ben looked at his shoes. “Are you alright?” “…Willow…I’m…it worked.” He said. Willow looked at him, her head tilted to the side. “What…what worked?” she asked. Ben knelt on the floor and held her hand. “It worked. Your ideas. Your…theories, equations. It worked. Your sister and I completed them.” He said.

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“Zoe? You shared them with her?!” Willow yelled. “Willow, I’m not really here right now! I’m here from 8 years in the future. The only reason I can talk to you now is because I know you. You’re my totem. My constant. The one thing in my life that I have a connection to. It’s why I can speak to you without changing anything. I just want to say that I’m sorry. A week from now, we’re going to be heading to a presentation I’m giving at a school, for your work. Crossing the street, you’re going to be killed. I-I think I can change this.” Said Ben. Willow stared at him, “Are you playing a joke on me? It’s not funny if you are.” “I’m not. I swear I’m not. Your research, it’s all true, it all works. You have to come with me.” Said Ben. “You can’t change the past, Ben. That’s the one rule.” She said. “I can try. I have to try.” Said Ben, “I can’t…I can’t be here and not try. I have missed you so much, you can’t even imagine the pain your death brought me. But now, I can try and change it.” Willow stared, “You came all this way, completed all that research, spent millions of dollars…just to try and change one moment?” “I…I love you.” Said Ben and she smiled and kissed him. “I love you too.” Jodie was pacing back and forth, shaking her head, and biting her finger. “This can’t be possible. You-you must be having some sort of mental breakdown.” She said. “No, this is serious. I can’t figure it out either, but…but this man, the one you met earlier, Ben Archer, he says that he can save my life.” “…how can you be so sure about this?” “How can you be so sure about your religion?” asked Nick, now standing up. Jodie stopped and stared. “Excuse me?”



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“It’s no different than a religious belief. You believe in things that can’t be scientifically proven, things that are taken on just a grain of hope. It’s called a leap of faith, Jodie.” Said Nick. Jodie stared at him, “You…you have a point. My belief is just as unsure as yours is. But why are you asking me about all of this?” Nick stood in front of her, and swallowed, “Because…in my jumps or whatever they’re called…projections…I’m holding your cross. I think that because I saw something, it changed something. I think it may have something to do with you. I need you to be near me, so I can protect you.” Jodie smiled, “How noble of you.” Just then the door opened and Ben entered. The two stopped and looked at him, as he straightened his tie. “Nick, you need to find something. Something solid. Quickly. An object.” Said Ben. Nick looked at Jodie, then back at Ben. “What for?” “You said in your dream, your jump, that you were holding a cross.” Said Ben, “Now, where is that cross?” Nick looked at Jodie, and around her neck was a golden cross. “Right there.” He nodded towards it. Ben walked up to her and stopped, then held out his hand. “May I have that please?” he asked. “What for?” Jodie replied, as she started to release the clutch in the back of her necklace. “In your life-whether we’re in this universe or the other, past or the future-you need something that’s constantly around you. It can be a person, it can be an object. It’s called an Anchor. It allows you to live. Astral Projection can mess with your mind; give you a cerebral hemorrhage. It can kill you. But with the Anchor, you’re always aware of who gave it to you, and what it is. It keeps you based in reality. You won’t go insane.” Said



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Ben. Jodie put the necklace into Ben’s hand and he handed it to Nick. “So I just hold onto it?” “No matter what you do, do not lose it ever.” Said Ben. “Where’s yours?” Nick asked, as Ben started to walk back to the front door, and he stopped. “I lost mine, but I have it now. Now, are you ready?” he asked, “This isn’t going to be easy. You’re going to have to pack. And whatever you want from this life, make sure you bring it with you. Because you may never be coming back here.” Nick looked at Jodie as Ben headed out the front door. “Are you coming with me?” he asked. “Of course. If you need me, then I’ll go.” Said Jodie. Nick kissed her cheek, and then want to pack. Ben watched from the front door, and shook his head.

Ben was the one driving. Willow sat in back with Jodie, and Nick was up front with him. Nick was looking at the back of Ben’s hand, on which he had written the number 8. Nick pointed. “What’s that about?” he asked. “The number 8 is synonymous with life. That’s what is represents. You took math in school, did you ever learn about the Fibonacci Sequence?” asked Ben, and Nick nodded. “Yeah, of course, why?” “Well, the number 8 is the largest cube in that sequence. The interesting thing about that sequence is that it creates a curve, and blends into a spiral. Much like the number 8.” “I-I don’t understand. How does the number 8 represent life?” “What does the number 8 become if you turn it on it’s side, Nick?” asked Ben. “…the symbol for eternity.” He replied. “Bingo.”

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“I’ve been seeing the number 47. Does that have anything to do with the Sequence?” asked Nick and Willow leaned forward. “The number 47 is the most recurring number in history. It can be traced back years. It’s a Keith number. It appears in a Fibonacci type sequence that begins 2, 1, 3, 4, 7, 11, 18, 29, 47. Pomona College is the best example of this. In Lyman Hall, the organ case as 47 pipes. Their traditional motto has 47 characters, their first graduating class in 1894 there were 47 students enrolled. And if you really want to wonder, the last two digits in that year equal 47 times 2.” Said Willow, “Why you’d be noticing it is weird, but…hey, what can you do, right?” “So where are we going exactly?” asked Nick and Ben smiled. “Humorously enough, Park Drive, 47th street. Address 408.” Said Ben. Nick shook his head as he rested his head on his hand, “You’re a dick.”

Ben was seated in the waiting room of the police station. He had his head in his hands and was staring down at the floor. He looked at his hand and opened it, and inside on his palm was the ring Willow always wore on her pinky finger. He shut his eyes, his hand on his forehead and cried a little, then the doors behind him opened, and a woman stopped beside him. Ben looked up at her; it was Zoe. “Where is she?” she asked. “I have no idea. They won’t let me answer anything about what happened.” Zoe sat down beside him and looked at him. Ben let his head hang down again and she rubbed his back. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved with her.” Zoe said, “She had ideas that were going to get her killed.”

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“That’s the problem with the world,” Ben said, “Nobody wants to get involved. Everyone wants to be as uninvolved and far removed from situations as possible, especially those that don’t immediately affect them.” Zoe nodded, and sighed. “You know it was an accident.” She said, and Ben shook his head. “The Titanic sinking was an accident. This…this is unfair.” Said Ben, “Just because some asshole can’t drive, we have to suffer, and that’s an accident?” Zoe held his hand tight, and looked him in the eye. “You’ll see her again. Nobody is really gone forever as long as you can remember them.” Ben looked back down at his feet, but Zoe grabbed his chin and made him look at her, as she smiled, pushing hair behind her ear. “Because all we really have Ben, in the end…are memories. That’s all we ever had.” She said. The funeral for Willow Barton was held a week later, at 8:00 in the morning. It was raining out, and Ben didn’t come up close. He participated from a distance, sitting on a headstone, smoking a pipe. His eyes were watering, but he didn’t make any attempt to dry them. He just stared straight ahead. Suddenly a hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked beside himself to see a man standing there. “I’m very sorry for your loss.” He said. Ben blew smoke, and barely managed a half smile. “Thank you.” “The work this woman was doing was quite remarkable. And it can be achieved.” Ben turned fully and looked at the man. He was dressed in a suit with a long black trench coat, and was older than he was. “Who are you? Did you know her at all?” Ben asked.



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The older man smiled, and said, “Yes, I knew her. What if I told you there was a way to fix this?” Ben’s eyes widened, and he put his pipe out, and then stuffed it into his coat pocket. “What are you suggesting?” “You of all people should know the work that Willow was doing, Mr. Archer, and you of all people should have the access to that work. Her labs, her notes, her equipment. What if I were to tell you that there was a way to make all of this go away?” the old man asked, and Ben looked at the burial, then back at him. “Go on.” “You can change things for the better. You know what her work does, what it involves. You can save her, Mr. Archer. All you have to do is find a loophole.” Said the old man, and then reached into his pocket and handed Ben a card. “Your business?” “My work number. Call me when you find yourself interested enough. Or miserable enough to try.” Said the old man, and turned, beginning to leave. Ben looked up from the card and called out. “Hey wait! What’s your name?” The old man turned and smiled, “My name is Bernard. Bernard Mitchell.”

Park Drive, 47th street, Address 408. Ben looked at the small apartment through his window, and then rubbed his forehead. He turned and looked at everyone in the car. “I’m going inside for just a minute or so. I need to grab some things.”



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“Who’s…who’s place is this?” Nick asked, looking out the window at it. “…It was mine, Nick.” Ben replied, and then he opened his door, and headed out. Willow got out and followed him. The two walked side by side, and Willow held his hand. “You still know where the key is?” she asked. “Yes I do.” Said Ben, and they reached the doorstep. Ben leaned down and picked up the small plastic deer on the ground, then reached under and pulled out a key. He put it into the lock, turned, and opened the door. The two proceeded inside, Willow looking around the apartment. “We were rarely ever here together,” she said, “It’s weird.” “I was rarely ever here alone.” Said Ben, as he went into the office and started opening the desk drawers and filing cabinets. Willow stopped in the doorframe, leaning on it, her arms crossed. “I assume you’ve got a plan for all of this?” she asked. “Nick Mitchell wasn’t supposed to die. He did. And now that has changed the future.” Said Ben, as he pulled out some files with paper inside. He set them down, licked his finger and started flipping through them. “And?” Willow asked. “And now it’s someone else who’ll die.” Ben said, “Someone he’s close to…someone he loves. Like you were for me.” “The woman who’s with us?” Willow asked, as she stood up straight and started looking through the papers as well. “She’s the vessel, Willow. Everyone has to have one for what’s about to happen.” Said Ben, “And she’s his vessel.” “What’s his totem?” “The cross.” Ben replied, and Willow stopped him, and then looked in his eyes. “How’s it going to happen?” she asked.



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“That part I don’t know yet. But there’s someone I have to go see.” He said, “So take my car, go to a hotel and just keep them there until I can get back.” Willow nodded, then lowered her eyebrows, “Why are you doing this for them?” “Because nobody did it for me. If I can spare someone else the pain I felt…” said Ben, looking at the floor. Willow pulled his face to hers and kissed him. “Be careful.” She said, and he smiled. “You too. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Ben slipped his keys into her hands and she left the apartment.

Ben was sitting in a waiting room, staring at a photo of deer on the wall behind the secretary’s desk. He squinted and saw the deer was dead, and the man holding it up was Bernard. Ben shook his head when a blonde woman stopped in front of him, a clipboard held to her chest. “Mr. Mitchell will see you now.” She said, and Ben smiled. The office was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Ben was looking at more pictures of deer, some of hunting trips, some not. Bernard was behind his desk, and he smiled at Ben when he entered. “Take a seat, Mr. Archer.” He said. “What’s with the livestock?” Ben asked, as he sat in a chair in front of the desk, looking at the photos. “I hunt. Don’t you hunt?” he asked, “It really is a great way to relax. Get back to nature.” “You hunt anything other than deer, or did they did something to you personally?” Ben asked, smiling a little. Bernard returned it by laughing. “Deer are a…interesting animal, Mr. Archer. They represent being alert for danger. They represent love. They represent the

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power of gratitude, giving, the ability to sacrifice for the higher good, and most importantly, alternative paths to a goal.” Said Bernard. “So did you call me here to discuss business or to comprehend Bambi?” asked Ben, and Bernard leaned back, rubbing his chin. “Benjamin, surely you can understand why this work of Willow’s was important. Surely you must know that she’d want to share it with the world. And who wouldn’t want to stop terrible things from happening to the ones they care about, or even to people in general? 8 months ago…there’s was an accident on Highway 47, in Wisconsin.” Said Bernard, now pouring himself a glass of gin, “And someone I loved very much died in it. Imagine having the power…the chance…the opportunity to change that. Maybe save them. Wouldn’t you want that? Don’t you want Willow back?” Ben swallowed, and his eyes watered, “More than anything.” “Then I think we have an agreement, we need her work.” Said Bernard, “And only you can pull the trigger on it. Without your consent, we will never have the chance to look at her work, and try and turn it into a reality.” Ben glared a little, “Are you trying to just buy her work? Or do you really believe in what she was doing?” “Benjamin, I am not a monster. I don’t want anyone else to hurt.” Bernard replied. “Who died?” “What do you mean?” “Who died? In the accident?” Ben asked. Bernard sat back and wasn’t smiling anymore. Ben asked again. “WHO DIED?” “A woman I knew.” Said Bernard, “That’s all you need to know. Personal is separate from business.” “Not when my business is my personal life. Willow and her work are both to me. What was your…your…relationship with this woman?” Ben asked.



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“I was having an affair with her.” Said Bernard. Ben sat down and looked at the desk. “Why?” “Because my wife and I haven’t been in love for a while now. She’s helping my son get his writing career on track, and I met this woman during a business trip.” Said Bernard, “Do you want my social security number now too?” “No. Sorry.” Said Ben, “So what do we do?” “To change anything, you need a vessel. Someone to fill in for the changes. So if I were going to save my lover, I’d sacrifice my wife, for instance. You can change things, but the event still needs to occur. Just maybe not to the person it was originally intended to be to. The event can’t be changed. The world has a way of course correcting itself, and the event will always happen. But where we have an advantage is in the people. While the event can’t change, the people can, because we are the variables in the situation.” Said Bernard. “I want to do it.” Said Ben, and Bernard smiled. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Archer, we are going to change the world.”

Ben knocked on the door, his coat held up to cover his face. He knocked once again and again, and then a light went on inside the house. “I’m coming!” shouted the woman inside. The door unlocked and Zoe opened the door, then stopped, “Well it’s about time.” “It worked. The whole thing worked.” Said Ben, “Now I just need a little help on the next part.” Ben elbowed his way in and threw down the files onto the couch. Zoe sat down and picked them up, looking through them. “And what help would that be?” Zoe asked.



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“There has to be a vessel, someone to take the place of whatever was supposed to happen to Nick, right? That would clearly be Jodie. But that’s what I’m trying to avoid! I don’t want either of them to go through what we went through with your sister! There has to be an alternative route, a…a loophole or something!” Zoe stood up and put her hands on Ben’s shoulders. “Clearly the universe is keeping Nick alive for some reason. I don’t know what that reason is, but it’s happening.” She said, “And you’re there to help. Jodie is the vessel. She must die. Whatever reason we’re keeping Nick alive for, I’m sure it’ll be shown to us soon. Nick needs to feel the same pain that we felt in order to go through what we went through. He needs that to happen.” “But-but I don’t know what to do!” Ben shouted, and he started stomping back and forth, his arms in the air, “This whole thing is one wild goose chase in a circle! We’re running in friggin circles here, and I’m not sure where to go! We have to save Nick, but we have to have Jodie die, but we’re trying to make it so that they can be together!? How the hell is that going to work?! And how is she going to die anyway?!” Zoe sat down on the couch and looked at the floor, rubbing her arms. Ben looked at her, his eyes widening. “You know don’t you?” he asked, “You know what has to be done?” “Yeah Ben, I know how she’s going to die.” Ben kneeled on the floor and looked at her from across the coffee table. “How is it going to happen?” Ben asked. Nick and Jodie were standing on the balcony of their hotel, while Willow inside reading a book. Jodie was looking up at the stars, and Nick looked up as well.



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“I know it sounds weird, and I know you don’t agree with it, but I like the feeling of looking up there and…and feeling like there’s something protecting me. Whether it’s God or some sort of cosmic device, something is watching out for me.” Said Jodie. Nick looked at her; her hair, her eyes, and he realized he loved everything about her. Even still, a year later. “I don’t know how to thank you for coming with me.” Said Nick, “It’s nice not to be alone. I-I think I’d go crazy if I was just with people I’d never met.” Jodie took off her necklace and put it into Nick’s hands. “I hope one day you can understand what I feel, Nicky.” She said, and then kissed him on the cheek, “I’m going to get a drink from the vending machine. Do you want anything?” Nick shook his head and went back inside the room. Jodie walked down the long, cold, empty outdoor halls of the hotel, and stopped at the vending machine. She pulled out some change from her pocket and started pumping it into the machine, and then pressed the buttons for a Sprite. B47 The soda came down with a loud thud, and she picked it up, and then turned around at the sound of shoes walking against the pavement. “Hello?” she asked. “I’m sorry.” Said a voice from the shadows, and she saw a bright light flash at her, and then looked down, feeling pain in her chest. Two red holes were lodged against her, and she pressed her fingers against them, feeling her blood leak out slowly. She fell to her knees, and then onto her side. She looked at the ground and saw the black shoes approach her. She slowly looked up and put her fingers on the shoes, the blood wiping against the pure black leather.



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“H…help….help me…” she whispered. The shoes bent down and a hand felt her face. “I am so sorry,” said the voice. Jodie looked up at saw Ben standing over her, his eyes filled with tears. “Be…Ben?” she asked. Ben wiped her face, holding back his own tears, “I’m so sorry, Jodie. This is how it has to be. This is how it has to be. If you want to save Nick, this is how it has to happen.” “Why….why did you…” “I’m sorry.” Said Ben, and he put the gun to her head. “Be….Ben don’t…please…” “I have to.” He said, and she sobbed a bit. “Tell Nick…that I will always be with him. Always…” Ben shut his eyes, nodded and pulled the trigger.

Nick was sitting on the floor, Jodie on the coffee table. The apartment was mostly empty. Jodie was biting her nails, her eyes sunken and red after days of crying. Nick wouldn’t look up at her. “Why?” she asked. Nick didn’t move, and she continued, “Why can’t you just believe? What’s so terrible about having beliefs? Not even religious beliefs, but beliefs about anything?” She threw her arms up in the air, then got on her knees and touched his face. He looked her in the eye. “How can you not believe in anything? How can you be so skeptical and yet so sure that your skepticism is right?” she asked, “I mean, all the choices we’ve made in our lives brought us together, and you can’t call that fate or destiny or SOMETHING?” Nick looked back at the floor.



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“I feel sorry for you Nick, if you can’t believe in anything. I really do.” She said, then stood up, kissed his forehead, “But I will always be with you. Always.” As she exited, Nick thought of all the things he ought to say. All the things he wanted to say. All the things he should have said, but just couldn’t bring himself to. He looked up at the crucifix upon the wall and started to cry.

Nick and Willow found Ben almost instantly. The gunshot had been heard loud and clear throughout the hotel, and they had come rushing to find where it had emanated from. Nick rushed forward, his eyes widening as he happened upon the horror of Jodie on the ground. He immediately dropped to his knees and grabbed her hands. “JODIE!” he screamed, but she wouldn’t move. She was gone. Ben wouldn’t move. Willow grabbed his shoulders and shook him, and Nick looked up, and then stood up. “I’m very sor-“ Ben began, but Nick punched him square in the jaw. Ben slid against the rail and grabbed it with his hand, as Nick picked him up by the lapels of his coat. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” he screamed, his anger overtaking every other emotion, but Ben put his hand up. “Stop! It’s ok!” “IT’S OK!?” “Yes! I saved her and you! The event was going to happen, you can’t stop that! But what you can change is who it happens to! You can change who it happens to because unlike the event, we are random, we are not predetermined, and we are merely a cosmic coincidence. People, in general, are. We are the



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variables, that’s why we can change things, if we know ahead of time.” Said Ben. Nick calmed down and let Ben go. Ben walked beside Willow, who was now eyeing him suspiciously as well. He straightened his coat and cleared his throat, then wiped the blood from his lip. “And how the hell do you plan to fix this!?” Nick shouted, pointing at Jodie as he paced back and forth. “There’s no fixing this. She’s gone. I came here to save YOU.” Said Ben. “No, no, no you-you said in that tape you sent that our universe was like a record, you said that there were two universes.” Said Nick. “Yes, I did.” “Take me there.” Said Nick. Ben looked at Willow, and then back at Nick. “Excuse me?” “Take me there. I want you to take me to the other universe. The one where this can be fixed. Jodie never jumped. Therefore there’s still another one of her out there, and that means this can be fixed, and-“ “It doesn’t work like that, Nick.” “The hell it doesn’t! You’re going to fix this!” shouted Nick. Ben looked at Willow, as she crossed her arms and flipped her hair out of her eyes. “Yeah, you are.” Ben looked at her with a strange stare, one eye half closed in confusement. “Why?” “Because you never found a vessel for me.” Said Willow, “That’s how you were going to save me. In a week, I’m going to die. So who’s going to take MY place?” she asked. Ben stared at the ground now.



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“I hadn’t really thought about that.” He said, then looked at Nick, “If that’s what you really want, then yes. We can fix this. But what’s your plan? You really think we can just stroll into another universe, find alternate Jodie and everything will be clean? This is a delicate operation. Her life, your life, everything there is different than it is here, and in fact you two may not even know each other there!” Nick grabbed Ben’s coat, “You’re going to take me there. Then, I’m going to rescue Jodie.” Ben looked in Nick’s eyes. “And then?” “And then…I’m going to kill you.”



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BOOK 3 “JUMP”



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The tea was steaming, boiling and whistling, marking the arrival of morning in the household. The woman picked it up and walked it to the kitchen table, where she began to pour it. Darren was seated at the table and she leaned down so he could kiss her cheek. She smiled as she went back to the counter and began to put toast into the toaster and pull the butter and jelly out of the refrigerator. Darren sipped his tea. “What’s on your schedule today?” he asked and the woman pulled the lid to the butter open, then leaned on the counter, one hand on her hip. “Not much. Just a lot of cleaning up around here, and I have to go see my mother.” She said. Darren nodded without looking at her as he unfolded the newspaper. “I’m going to be home early tonight. I was thinking we could go out, have some fun.” Said Darren, as he smiled up at her. She put his toast down and kissed him. “That sounds wonderful.” She said, giggling. Darren got up and grabbed his briefcase, then kissed her again. “I’ll be back around 6, so be ready.” “I will.” The woman said as she watched Darren exit the house and head to his car, then called out, “I love you!” “I love you too, Jodie!” he shouted back.

Nick woke up suddenly, panting, his hands cold and clammy. He looked to his right and blurry red digital numbers came into focus. It was 8:47 in the morning. He rolled onto his side, then sat up on the side of the bed. Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and Ben was standing there. He was brushing his teeth, and he pointed his toothbrush at Nick. “Good morning sunshine.” He said, smiling. “Jesus my head hurts.” Said Nick, “What’s going on?”



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“Well, we’re here. Now listen, it’s going to take some detective work in order to find out where Jodie is, but overall this shouldn’t be too hard once we convince her who we are.” Said Ben, sitting down on the end of the bed. He looked at Nick as he buttoned the cuff of his shirt and smiled. Nick sat up slowly and looked around the room. “So…so it worked?” Nick asked and he looked back at Ben, who smiled, then nodded. “Yeah…it worked.” Ben replied, “Now get dressed, we’ve got to get going if we’re going to do this in the time we’ve been given.” Ben looked at his watch as Nick stood up, pulling his pants on. “Ugh…how…how much time do we have?” Nick asked. “47 hours.” “Of course.” Said Nick, scoffing and throwing his arms in the air. As Nick pulled his seatbelt on, Ben put the keys into the ignition, then looked at Nick. “We have to make a little pit stop first. We have to pick up someone.” He said.

Willow pushed the lock up and then thrust her shoulder against the door hard, unbolting it and it swung wide open. She was in the school basement where she kept all her equipment for her work. Willow slowly stepped inside and rubbed her arms with her hands, shivering as she threw hair out of her face, hair still covering the other eye. She stopped in the middle of the room and looked around. “Jesus, it’s weird.” She said. Ben walked in behind her and Nick behind him, carrying Jodie’s body. Ben put a hand on Willow’s shoulder, massaging it a bit.

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“I know, but you’re the only other one with the equipment, and we need to do this.” Said Ben, and he let go of her and entered the room more. Ben stopped and started pulling large white sheets off all the machinery as Nick stopped and looked at the chair with straps and metal attached to it. It had little electric nodes set up all along the back of the chair, and up and down the armrests, which is where the straps were harnessed. “What-what the hell is this?” Nick asked. Willow turned back and approached him. “It’s uh…,” she started, “It’s what we’re putting Ben into.” Nick looked at her and she touched his hand. “You can…you can put her down…right-right over there, if you’d like.” Willow said, nodding at Jodie then at a steel slab across the room. Nick shook his head and looked Willow in the eyes, his tearing up. “No. I’m never letting go of her.” He said. They heard a loud clanging sound and both looked back to the middle of the room to see Ben pulling a machine off a table. “Don’t let my noise interrupt your moment.” He said, and he tossed a large black bag onto the table, then unzipped it and started to pull out wires and a small metal headband. Willow smiled at Nick, then walked to Ben and tapped his shoulder. Ben turned. “Yes?” “…This is going to be very hard to do.” Said Willow, “I don’t think my equipment is as advanced as my sisters.” “Listen to me…your sister is the only reason you and I are together right now. It was very dangerous doing what I did, getting you to believe me. When I jumped back here, I was driving down the road in a truck. That was the day…the day I had decided to buy your ring. But you died a week later…I never got to give it to you…and now…now here we are again. I



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need you to understand something…we need a check.” Said Ben and Willow shook her head, crossing her arms. “I don’t follow.” She said. “A check, we need a check, a reality check. Something to tell us when we need to jump back. Something to let us remember that we’re not in our own reality.” Ben said, “Do you have any ideas?” Willow looked around and shook her head. “No, Ben. I don’t have any ideas.” Ben cursed silently under his breath, then shook his head and continued to work. “Well hopefully-“ he said over his shoulder, “-your sister will come up with one.”

Ben pulled up in the driveway of a dusty old shack and sighed as he turned the car off. Nick looked at him, saw him rubbing his hands. “You ok?” Nick asked and Ben shook his head. “Not in the least.” He said, “Listen to me Nick, this is it. This is the moment, right here. What we like to call in the dramatic business ‘the point of no return’. If we go any further than this, people are going to die, people we know. Are you sure that you want to do this? It is going to be incredibly dangerous and-“ “You’ve got the person back you loved. Mine already died. You’re going to fix this, Archer.” He said and Ben sighed, then opened the door and approached the shack. He knocked lightly and forced the voice out of his throat. “It’s…it’s me.” He said, and the door swung open. Zoe was standing there. She looked at the car, then at Ben. “You did it.” She said. “Yeah.” Ben said, “Next we have to go get Willow.” Zoe nodded at the car, “He ok?”

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“He’s…having a hard time adjusting, but overall I think he’ll pull through.” Said Ben, “Now, let’s go get your sister.” As they drove on, Ben took a glance over at Zoe who was fishing through a small PDA, possibly to keep up with the schedule, and then snuck a peek back at Nick in the passenger seat, who appeared to be staring down at the cross in his hand. As they continued to drive, Zoe put her PDA away and then yawned and pushed her chair back. “I’m going to take a nap. It’s still an hour drive or so, so just wake me when we get there.” She said, and she shut her eyes. Ben waited about 15 minutes, and then cleared his throat. “So…what’s with the cross?” he asked. Nick looked up. “Oh…Jodie was religious. It-it was one of the things that we fought about a lot actually. She said that clearly there had to be a god and I always asked her for the proof she obviously had, and now that I think about it, I was probably just being stupid and petty.” Said Nick. “Yeah well, shows what she knows.” Said Ben, and Nick looked up confused. “What do you mean?” Ben looked back, “She’s dead, Nick. You’d think that someone who believed in god and worshipped him would get to live, but no. She died. I need you to know that I didn’t want to kill her.” Nick clutched the cross in his hands. Ben continued. “I really didn’t. It was to save you. She’s what we call a vessel.” Said Ben, “She’s your variable, she took your place. The event still has to happen, but it doesn’t have to happen to the same person it was originally intended for.” “So who’s your vessel for Willow?” asked Nick. “…I…I don’t know.” Said Ben, and he wiped at his eyes, “But I know that I won’t let her be taken away from me again. You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, Nicholas. Just remember that.”



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And with that, they shut up and drove. HOUR 46 Ben stood on the porch, Zoe beside him and she nodded. He knocked on the door and she answered. Ben smiled as he looked at Willow in her sundress, her hair more curled than before. Willow smiled too, looking down at her feet. “It’s like you get more beautiful each time I find you,” said Ben and she kissed his cheek. Zoe smiled, then looked at her sister. “It’s been…so long. SO long.” Said Zoe, “I…you’re here…” Willow nodded and Zoe broke down, throwing her arms around her sisters shoulders, sobbing. “It’s ok, Zoe. I’m alright now, thanks to you, and thanks to Benjamin.” She said, but Zoe couldn’t stop. She kept sobbing. “Every single day since it happened I wished it had been me. I wished I had been there to push you out of the way or…or to have taken your place but I wasn’t…and I never got to say goodbye.” Zoe cried, wiping her eyes, then hugging her sister again, “But here you are…like you never left.” Willow stroked Zoe’s hair and smiled slightly. “We never really leave.” “Yes, from what you told me Zoe, as long as you remember someone, they’re never truly gone. Memories are all we ever really had.” Said Ben and Zoe nodded, laughing as she squeezed her sister closer. Ben looked behind himself at Nick, who was leaning against the back of the car, looking out into space. He started to walk towards him, and he leaned beside him. “You really think that this is going to work, Ben?” Nick asked. “Yeah…I really do.” He replied. Nick looked over. “So, when Willow died, your took her stuff to her sister, and-“ “No.” said Ben, “I didn’t. I should’ve…but I didn’t. I took it to a man who used it for the wrong reasons.”



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“Why?” Nick asked. “Because I was in pain, and I was confused…I was manipulated into thinking that everything he was saying about what Willow would have wanted was true, when how could he know what she would’ve wanted? He’d never met her. Only I knew. And I made the wrong choice…that’s why I’m here, Nick. To help you, yes, but also to correct some things.” Nick looked puzzled as he crossed his arms, the wind blowing through his hair. “And what else do you have to correct? You’ve already saved Willow, what else is there besides finding her vessel?” he asked, and Ben swallowed, and looked from the ground to Nick. “I’m going to find that man…and I’m going to kill him.” Said Ben, “Because he caused me so much pain.” Ben turned around and started to walk back to the car. As he reached out for the door handle, Nick scratched his head and shouted after him. “Just how exactly are you connected to me? That’s the one thing that I cannot figure out.” Said Nick and Ben slowly glanced up at him. “Because the man who used me, Nicholas, the man who lied to me to get Willow’s equipment, to get Willow’s charts and notes, the man who made my life a living hell…that man was your father.” Said Ben and Nick’s eyes opened wide, clearly in shock. “But…but he died. My mother told me that he died.” Said Nick. “Well then clearly, your mother is a lying hag.” Said Ben, and he got into the car.

Ben grabbed the glass bottle of wine and tossed it against the wall, then slammed his hands down onto the desk, staring Bernard down.



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“You can’t do this! This isn’t what this equipment is for!” screamed Ben, “You…you can’t just take this and do with it what you want! These things, this science, it was all made for a specific purpose! It was made to right wrongs; it was made to fix mistakes! It wasn’t made for you to use as you see fit!” Bernard stood up, his voice stern as his brow lowered, and he began to pace around his desk, Ben watching his every move. “And how do you feel we should be using the equipment Benjamin? By fixing the past? By saving your beloved Willow? There are some things that are irreversible and-“ “Not if you have the right terms of conditions!” shouted Ben, “How could you know anything about how I feel! You cheated on your wife, you told me that you left your son! What kind of father does that!? How well could you ever understand my pain when you don’t know what it is to love to begin with?!” Ben screamed, putting his face right up to Bernards. “You’ve been drinking.” Said Bernard, and Ben laughed. “You’re damn right I have! I got you all of this equipment, all of these labs, all of these notes, and for what?! You don’t even ask my opinion! I knew her best; I know what she would’ve wanted! But do you even ask me? Do you even ASK me? NO. You do not. Bernard, when we started this, you said we could make the world a better place, but that’s not what you’re doing. You’re not making the world a better place, you’re making YOUR world a better place, and as much as I admire your enthusiasm for lying, I have to say I’m null impressed.” Bernard smiled, and then sat down on his desk. “Then tell me, Benjamin. How do you feel we should cope with these things? How do you feel we are able to change the past?” Bernard asked. “You told me! Variables! People! Vessels! You said these things!” said Ben, “And now you’re saying it’s corrupt unless you do it or unless it’s something you want done for your own damn life!”



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Two men came in and grabbed Ben by the arms as Bernard stood up and put his face right up to Ben’s. “I hired you under the idea that you would be good for what I’m wanting to do here. I’m very sorry that Willow died, and I’m very sorry if you feel cheated, but if you cannot even handle the jobs I’m asking of you without being drunk all the damn time, then maybe you should live out in the woods. At least there you won’t be bothered by anyone.” Said Bernard. The men began to drag a fighting Ben out as he shouted. “What you’re doing is wrong! This isn’t for population gain; this is for your own gain! This isn’t what Willow would’ve wanted!” Ben screamed, and he disappeared into the hall.

HOUR 45 Zoe and Willow were in the backseat now asleep, Ben and Nick in the front as Ben drove down the highway. Nick looked over at Ben. “So he’s been going back and forth through the universe for however long because you gave him Willow’s equipment?” Nick asked, and Ben didn’t answer or even acknowledge the question. Nick sighed and looked at the cross in his hand. “…I’m sorry that he lied to you, Nick. I am. And if it’s any consolation, my father lied to me too.” Said Ben and Nick looked back at him. Nick shifted in his seat, looking straight at Ben now. “How so?” “Because…it’s just what people who need control do. They lie to get what they want.” Said Ben, “But I haven’t spent my life resenting him for my problems, my mistakes, because…that’s retarded. I made my own mistakes. My mistakes weren’t a reflection on him not being kinder to me, they were just a part



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of me figuring out things on my own. We have nobody to blame but ourselves, in the end.” “I blamed my father for so much. So much anger. I just can’t believe that…that he’s alive.” Said Nick, and he looked out the window. Ben kept driving and he cleared his throat silently, barely glancing at Nick. In his world, he wasn’t much of a religious person, but this was the first time in his life that Ben was actually praying to something-be it a god or not-that what he was trying to do worked.

Nick held Jodie in his arms as Willow was setting up the chairs in a metal room. Ben entered and shut the door quietly behind him, and Willow turned around, smiling a little. “You know,” she said, “I never thought that you would’ve gone through all this trouble to help someone.” Ben laughed a bit, then started to help her as he untangled wires, “Well, all this ‘helping others’ thing is new to me as well, but at least I have you with me to help figure it out.” Willow slipped her hand inside his, and he held it, and then looked up and at her. She pushed some hair out of her face and then pushed herself up against him. “You know this is going to be ok right?” he asked, “I will not let you die. I will find a vessel, and everything will work. I promise.” Willow put her arms over his shoulders, “I trust you.” Willow leaned in and kissed him, and Ben reached over to turn out the lights.

The four of them sat inside the car outside of an office building. Ben looked back at Zoe.

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“You think you got this? We shouldn’t take too long, but whatever you do, make sure that you don’t take too long.” Said Ben and Nick tapped his shoulder. “Who are we here for?” “We’re here for your buddy Darren. I did all the research on him I could before you woke up, phone books, that kind of thing…turns out he’s Jodie’s lover in this universe, so we need to make sure that he doesn’t get back home before we’ve had a chance to talk to her.” Said Ben, and Nick stared, dumbstruck. “This…this is fucked up. I had sex with Darrens wife in reality, is this the universes idea of payback?” Nick asked. “Nicholas, you can believe in whatever religion you want, in fate or destiny, you can believe in evolution or intelligent design, but the fact of the matter is that at the end of the day…the universe…is a fickle bitch.” Said Ben, and he got out. Zoe and Willow got out as well and they pulled on their coats, now dressed up to look like business women. Ben, in his trench coat, stood on the sidewalk, staring at the building. “Listen to me, you’re two businesswomen who want to make a partnership, now…and this is important…there’s a deal going on in Tucson, Texas at the stroke of midnight. Money is going to change hands, and if he wants to be in on it, he’s got to make that decision today. Which means that you have to keep him here and convince him that your investment is the right thing to do. Understand that?” Ben asked and the girls nodded. “What do we do if something goes wrong?” Zoe asked. “Nothing will go wrong, I’m an expert at this. I’ve told you before, Zoe. I ALWAYS have a plan.” Said Ben and she smiled. Ben looked at Willow, who wouldn’t look him in the eye. He touched her cheek; she smiled, and looked up at him. “I’m just a bit frightened.” She said.



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“You’ll do fine,” he said, and he kissed her forehead, “I believe in you. Now, we’ll maybe be two hours tops, so make sure that this happens and that he doesn’t leave before then.” Ben stood and watched the girls cross the street and enter the building, and then he walked back around and got back into the car. “Now what?” Nick asked. “Now…we go get Jodie.” Said Ben. HOUR 44 Jodie found herself washing dishes, staring out her kitchen window, wondering how she got to be as lucky as she’s been. A wonderful home, a great man, and she was happy. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in the side of her head and grabbed her head a little. She shut her eyes and felt another pain. Suddenly she found herself on her hands and knees, grunting in pain. She saw herself, lying on the balcony of a motel. She felt herself bleeding from her chest, but when she grabbed her chest, she felt nothing. And then-just as soon as it had started-it was over. Jodie opened her eyes and breathed hard, then slowly rose back up and leaned over the sink and felt as if she could throw up. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Jodie grabbed a hand towel and wiped her hands free of water and dirt as she marched for the door. She reached out and pulled it open and standing there was a man. Jodie smiled. “Hello sir, can I help you?” she asked. The man just smiled, so she continued, “You’re not selling anything are you? Because if so, you’re-“ “May I come in?” he asked, and Jodie waited a second, then nodded slowly and stepped aside. The man entered and pulled a flask from the inside of his coat and took a drink. Then he looked around the room.



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“Lovely place,” he said. “Thank you. I’m not a very good decorator, I don’t think…if I may ask, who are you?” Jodie asked, now sitting down. The man reached inside and pulled a handgun. “Stay calm, Jodie.” He said and she put a hand to her chest, “I’m not going to hurt unless I really have to.” “What…what are you doing?” Jodie asked, backing up into her chair. The man sat down, the gun still aimed at her chest. “What’s necessary.” He said, and then he smiled. Ben pulled up into the driveway and looked over at Nick. “You ready?” he asked and Nick mouthed ‘yeah’, then got out. Ben and Nick started to walk up towards the front door and Ben reached out to knock on it, but the door opened and Ben’s eyes widened in horror. “What…what are YOU doing here?” Ben asked and Bernard smiled. “I could ask the same about you, Benjamin.” Said Bernard, and then he looked at Nick, “Hello son. Dad’s back.” Nick looked behind him at Jodie sitting in a chair, her mouth tied up, her hands behind her back. Nick pushed his way through and rushed to her, Ben sliding on past Bernard as well. As Nick started to tug at her gag, Bernard fired a shot into the chair next to her head and that grabbed Nick’s attention. “Now that you’ve noticed me,” said Bernard, “I think it’s time I explained some things.” “Yeah? How about where you’ve been for the last 20 years!?” Nick screamed. Ben took a seat and didn’t say a word. Bernard looked at Ben, then at Nick. “You didn’t really tell him anything did you? I’ve been working with Ben, well, was. Until he got moral on me. But none of that matters now, you see. The world is in a struggle, constantly, everyday, Nick. A struggle to see good overtake evil, a struggle to see a hero rise against a villain. To make the distinction



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between what’s right and what’s wrong is…idiotic. Until you hear both sides of a story, how can you truly believe who the guilty party is?” Bernard asked, “It doesn’t matter anyway, because the rides over.” Ben spoke softly, and Bernard leaned down and put his hand to his ear. “What was that, Benjamin?” “The ride never started.” Said Ben and Bernard laughed, then looked back at Nick and was suddenly on the ground as Nick stood over him, rubbing his fist. Ben was taken back by this sudden showing of spine. Ben stood up and pulled his own gun and aimed it down at Bernard, then looked at Nick. “Get her out to the car, I’ll be right behind you.” Said Ben. Nick picked up Jodie and carried her slowly out the door as Ben walked over Bernard. Bernard reached out off the floor and caught Ben’s ankle with his hand, pulling him down and Ben’s gun went off. Nick looked back but Ben just shouted and waved. “Get her to the car and start it!” he screamed, as he reached into his pocket and tossed Nick the keys. Bernard pulled Ben to him and wrapped his hands around Ben’s neck. “If you…had just…left well enough alone…THEN THIS WOULDN’T BE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!” screamed Bernard, “We could’ve been heroes, Benjamin! We could’ve been rich, been famous, been looked up to!” “YOU WERE A HERO! YOU WERE A FATHER, AND THAT’S THE BEST HERO A MAN CAN EVER BE!” Ben screamed as he hit Bernard over the head with the butt of his gun. Bernard grabbed his head as Ben stood up. Bernard stumbled back into a table, then grabbed the lamp and slung it into Ben’s head, shattering it. Ben fell to the floor and Bernard kicked him in the chest. “YOU…WERE NEVER…IN IT…FOR WILLOW!” he screamed, “YOU WERE JUST LIKE ME, BEN! ALL YOU EVER WANTED WAS HER



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EQUIPMENT! Sleeping with someone and pretending you love them is lower than anything I’ve ever done!” Ben looked up, blood dropping from his lips as he spat and forced himself to speak, “If I didn’t love her, I wouldn’t have worked this hard to get here!” “You think that all of this happened by accident? You think that by some act of god, by some act of science, you were chosen to be connected to me, to Willow, to my son?! I didn’t get Willow’s equipment without hard work!” Bernard screamed, kicking Ben in the chest again, and he slid against the wall. Bernard pulled Ben up by the throat and held him against the wall, putting his gun to Ben’s forehead. “What do you mean?” Ben asked, “You never even met us before she died!” “Who do you think killed her?” Bernard asked, grinning, “You honestly believe that that was a tragic hit and run? I was in that car, I staked out that street and I ran your girlfriend down!” Ben’s eyes fired up with rage as he reached for his own gun but his hand couldn’t touch the handle. Bernard put his finger on the trigger. “And now, like I did to her, I will kill you and become even more powerful. At least next time Ben, I won’t have someone to stand in my way.” Said Bernard, “Goodbye Benjamin.” Ben shut his eyes when he heard Bernard scream and drop to the floor. Nick was standing behind him and had stabbed him in the shoulder with a kitchen knife. Ben dropped too and looked up at Nick’s hand. “Come on, we gotta go.” Said Nick, and he pulled Ben up. The two ran out the door, down the steps and pulled their doors open as bullets began hitting the windows and surroundings. Bernard was standing in the doorway firing shot after shot, then he stopped and pulled the knife out of his back as Ben backed up and pulled away.



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HOUR 43 Meanwhile, Zoe and Willow were seated in a waiting room, reading magazines. Zoe checked her watch, and then glanced over at Willow who was sniffling. “You ok?” Zoe asked, and Willow looked at her, her nose bleeding. “What?” she asked. “I think we need to find your vessel and fast. You’re already showing signs of being hurt.” Said Zoe and she wiped the blood from Willows nose. Just then the secretary came out and smiled at them. “Mr. Marshall will see you now.” She said, and they got up. Inside his office, Darren was standing, shredding papers. Zoe and Willow entered, and he smiled at them. “I don’t have long ladies, so make this fast.” He said, “I get off in a few minutes, and even this is being generous.” Zoe and Willow took a seat and Zoe put a briefcase up on the desk. “Darren, or Mr. Marshall-“ Zoe began, but Darren waved his hand as he took his seat across from them. “Darren’s fine, sweetheart.” “-Darren then. My name is Zoe Bouchard and this is my business partner, Willow Bouchard. We’re here to discuss an investment opportunity, one that frankly, you’ll feel like a real fucking idiot if you don’t join in with.” Zoe said, smiling politely. Darren cupped his hands and leaned back, “Go on.” “Well,” Willow began, “There’s money changing hands as of midnight tonight for a company in Tucson, Texas. What if I told you that you could make a million dollars just by investing 3000?” “Is this a scam?” Darren asked, and the girls shook their heads.



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“Not at all, the man in charge of it is my father. He was banker.” Said Zoe. “Sounds like the right kind of guy to put in charge of scamming people out of their money, sweetheart. Able to run numbers and hide figures,” said Darren, “Now listen, I’m not interested, but I will give you the number of some-“ he then stopped and looked at Willow who was breathing harder, blood coming out of her nose more now. Zoe looked over at her too, and the sisters locked eyes. Willow looked terrified. “Is she ok? Are you ok, ma’am?” Darren asked. Willow put her hand to her chest and pulled her necklace off, of which inside was a petal from the plant Ben gave to her. She looked at Zoe. “If we don’t leave now…I…I might throw up.” Willow said and Darren handed his trashcan to her. “Ma’am, you want me to call a hospital?” he asked and Willow handed the small glass vile necklace to Zoe. “If Ben isn’t here…in 2 minutes…break it. I need the kick. I can’t stay…stay here.” She whispered. “We’re going to find your vessel, sweetheart, I promise.” Zoe whispered back and Darren stood up. “Wait here, I’ll go get first aid.” He said, and ran out the door. Zoe looked at Willow, who looked paler now, her head resting in Zoe’s lap. “Just hang on sweetheart,” said Zoe. Ben swerved to avoid another car on the road and Nick shouted at him as he patched up his arm, which had been barely sliced by one of Bernards random firings. “What the hell just happened?! You want to explain to me why my own father wants me dead?!” Nick shouted. “Because he doesn’t think that this is the right way to use this sort of power, Nicholas, he doesn’t want anyone else happy, he only wants it for himself! Selfish, I know!” Ben shouted back,



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“But it’s why he left your mother. He didn’t even plan your birth, it was an accident, but he couldn’t stop that. Not unless he had the equipment too.” “That…that’s what he was trying to do with it before you broke it off with him?” Nick asked, “He was trying to go back and stop my birth?” “He feared that one day you’d catch up to him, have the same power he did…looks like he was right,” said Ben, “Wish I had the chance to stand up to my father the way you did back there.” Ben smiled and Nick did too a little. He turned back around at Jodie. “Hey listen, are you ok?” Nick asked, and Jodie looked up at him as she rubbed her wrists. The second their eyes locked, she saw the flashes again and screamed. “Ni…Nick?” she asked, “Why…why do I know your name? I recognize you…” Nick sat back down and looked at Ben. “Is that normal?” Nick asked. “Absolutely. When one of them dies, the other often has flashes of their copies memories, it’s harmless, in fact, and it may help her remembering you.” Said Ben. “Is it safe?” Nick asked. “Not that is a question I don’t have the answer to.” Said Ben, and then he hit the brakes. Nick and Jodie were jolted forward and Nick pushed himself back, his hands on the dashboard. “What the hell?!” he asked, and Ben pointed forward. Bernard was standing there, a blockade around them. Nick started to unlock his door, but Ben put his arm across his chest. “This isn’t about you, Nick.” Said Ben, “He wants me more than anyone. I’m the one who fucked his shit up.” Nick sat back, “So what’re you gonna do to him?” “I’m gonna go out there and fuck his shit up some more.” Said Ben, and he got up. Ben slowly started to walk through the



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other cars, clearly abandoned now on the road. He shouted at Bernard. “Where is everyone?!” “I sent them off with a warning, told them there’d be a terrorist attack, people flea for their lives with that kind of shit.” said Bernard and Ben laughed. “You always were the best liar, Bernard.” Said Ben and Bernard stepped down off the hood of a car. “I don’t know, you’re pretty good yourself.” He said, “You want to explain one thing to me, Ben?” Ben and Bernard were face to face, enough that they could feel one another’s breath. “Sure, old pal. Whatever you want.” “Why do you care so god damned much about him?” asked Bernard. “Truthfully, I didn’t at the start. I just wanted to piss you off.” Said Ben, and he smiled then kicked Bernard in the shin. Bernard fall and Ben round housed him in the side of the head. Back in the car, Nick felt a hand on his shoulder, it was Jodie’s. He looked back at her. “Hey…you feeling ok now?” he asked. “Yeah…I’m feeling great now, Nick…” she said, smiling wide, her eyes tearing up. Nick leaned forward and kissed her. Ben grabbed Bernard by the lapels of his coat and threw him down onto the hood of a car and slammed the butt of his handgun into his nose, breaking it on contact. “Why do you insist of letting anyone else be happy?!” Ben screamed. “Why should anyone else be happy?!” Bernard shouted back, specks of blood landing on Ben’s face, “All MY life I was treated unfairly, treated poorly, told I wouldn’t succeed!” “And you think that gives you the right to make others feel that way!?” Ben yelled. “Fate has a way of being an asshole, Benjamin.”



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“No, fate doesn’t, YOU do!” Ben shouted and he punched him. He then heard a siren wail. Both men looked back at the road and saw an ambulance coming up and slowly pulling over. Suddenly a shot was fired and nearly hit Bernards head. Zoe was walking towards him, her gun pulled, her eyes enraged. Ben let go of Bernard with one hand and shouted. “Zoe, it’s fine! I’ve got this! Just keep Nick safe!” Ben shouted. Zoe just kept walking towards them. Bernard took advantage of the moment and kicked Ben in the groin, then pulled his coat off. “In case you were wondering Ben, as to your earlier statement, I am a good liar, but when I said a terrorist attack was going to occur, I wasn’t kidding.” Said Bernard. Ben rolled onto his back and looked up at him. Bernard had about 10 bombs strapped to his chest. Ben’s eyes widened. Ben started to back up, crawling as Bernard pulled his gun and aimed down at him. “What the hell are you going to do?” “I’m always two steps ahead, Ben.” Said Bernard, “I knew you’d take this route because of the highway number, 47. Same number my mistress died on. Same number my son saw on the television. The entire bridge is lined with explosives, and as soon as the target is eliminated, the place detonates.” Ben stood up, “What target!?” Bernard smiled, “That’s the fun part. It’s ME.” And he put his own gun to his head, “See you in hell Benjamin.” Ben stood up and took off running for the car, as he heard the gunshot behind him and heard the beeping behind him. The bridge started to come down behind him, collapsing. Ben waved his hands at Zoe. “RUN!” he screamed, but she couldn’t hear him. Then she saw the dust from the collapse, and she stood in shock. Ben leaped over the hood of a car as the bridge let out from under him and he grabbed the bumper of another car. He looked at Zoe and saw the ground beneath her begin to give way.



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“ZOE!” he screamed, and she began to back up, her boots sliding on the gravel and road. Ben grabbed the fender with his other hand, trying to pull himself up. He looked down and saw nothing but water below him. He looked back at Zoe who was stumbling backwards. He gritted his teeth and pulled himself up more and crawled onto the hood, then took off running for her. The whole bridge was sliding down towards them, and he saw Nick hold Jodie inside his car. Ben leaped over one hood, and then saw another car sliding down behind Zoe. “ZOE MOVE!” he screamed. Willow slowly made her way to the ambulance door and saw her sister on the edge and began to scream, but Darren pulled her back inside. Zoe felt herself slip and the cars bumper knocked her forward. She slid down and Ben leaped over another hood and slid across the road, then grabbed her hand. She looked up. “BEN!” she screamed. “DON’T YOU LET GO!” he screamed, but she looked down at the water, then up at Ben, and her eyes looked brighter, like she’d realized something. “Ben it’s me!” she screamed and he shook his head. “What!?” “I’M THE VESSEL!” she screamed, “FOR WILLOW!” Ben grabbed her tighter, on the verge of breaking down, “NO, YOU DON’T LET GO! DO NOT LET GO, YOU’RE NOT IT!” “YES I AM, BEN!” she screamed, and she smiled, “I’M LETTING GO NOW!” Ben held her, sobbing, “I CAN’T LET YOU GO!” She pushed him off and fell. Ben crawled to the edge and looked down to see her falling, plunging straight downward, cars falling around her. He watched her splash into the nothingness of water, cars landing atop her. He shut his eyes, then sat there, motionless as the bridge collapsed around him. He sobbed. Willow approached him, putting her hand on his shoulder as she leaned down beside him. Ben looked at her.



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“I’m so sorry, I tried…but…but she wouldn’t…” Ben started, but he just couldn’t finish. Willow smiled, crying herself, she patted his back as he collapsed into her. “It’s ok, she did what she had to.” Willow said, and she held him. Nick and Jodie got out and stood at the car, watching the other two. Nick felt her hand slip into his and he looked over at her. She was crying too. Nick felt it too. They wouldn’t be going anywhere for a few hours.

The party was in full swing, kids running around, laughter heard across the yard as the parents talked to the host mother. She was in the middle of having a conversation about kids eating habits when she heard a knock on the glass door. She turned around, pushing her blonde hair behind her ear, and looked at the back door to see a man, slightly balding, in a trench coat standing there smiling. She walked to the door, unlocked it and smiled at him. “Hello, can I help you?” she asked, and the man blinked behind his oval glasses. “Yes, Amy Mitchell, right?” he asked, and she nodded. “That’s correct.” “Hello, I’m a…I’m here to give a present to your son.” He said, and she smiled, so he continued, “I’m from the school board, I’m his tutor.” She nodded-clearly a bit drunk-and let him walk on by. He walked into the yard, all the parents watching him with hawk eyes. He gave them a little nod and then continued walking until he reached a young boy with a party hat on sitting on a bench. The man sat down beside him and the boy looked up. “Who are you?” he asked. “That doesn’t matter,” said the man, “What DOES matter is how important this is going to be. How old are you today?”

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“8.” “Good, I’m right on time then.” Said the man, and he handed the boy a box, “Here, it’s a present, for you.” The man got up and knelt before the kid, staring at him. “What?” the boy asked. “Nothing, you just look so much like him…happy birthday, Nicholas. I’m going to see you again real soon.” He said, and the boy watched the man get up and head for the mother. She shook his hand, her other on her hip. “So, thank you for coming, it’s so nice of you.” She said, and the man smiled. “Of course. It was…my pleasure.” He said, and he headed for the door. Amy turned and called out to him. “I didn’t catch your name!” The man turned back, and looked at the parents behind her, then cleared his throat, “My name is Ben. Benjamin Archer. It was very nice meeting you Amy.”

Ben sloshed around in the water, pulling bricks of cement and car wreckage out of the way with Willow right behind him. “Ben you need to stop this! She did what she thought was best!” Willow shouted, but he just kept moving. Ben moved to another area and looked around, then looked at her. “It wasn’t supposed to be her. Not her of all people, that isn’t fair! You two, separated the way you were and then we come here to fix it all and this happens anyway!? THAT…ISN’T…FAIR!” Ben screamed, and Willow backed up. Ben looked down to see where Willow’s eyes were, and he noticed a hand floating in the water. Ben fell to his knees and pulled it into his own hands, rubbing it. Willow turned and walked back to Nick and Jodie who were standing on the side of the river on the dirt and mud. She walked right past them without saying a



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word. Ben pulled Zoe out of the wreckage and wiped her face with his hand, smiling at her. “I’m here…it’s ok…” he whispered, putting his forehead to hers, “I’m so sorry…” Ben carried her back to Nick and Jodie and looked at them both, his eyes red and bloodshot. Nick looked at Ben and Ben cleared his throat and looked down at the ground. “Will you help me…b…bury her?” he asked, and Nick nodded, putting his hand on Ben’s back. The three of them sat around a small campfire, Jodie looking behind her shoulder at Willow, who was seated alone in the dark a few feet away. She stood up and Nick looked up at her. “Where are you going?” he asked. “I’m going to talk to her. I think she really needs to talk right now,” said Jodie, and she walked off towards her. Nick looked at Ben, who hadn’t moved since they finished burying Zoe. Finally, after a few seconds, Nick picked up a stick and prodded the fire, then he heard Ben speak softly. “It was all pointless. Everything we’ve ever done…in our entire lives…has been pointless. There’s no destiny…there’s no fate…there’s no fairness…there’s no god. Your father had us beat from the start. You work so damn hard to get things just right and it seems that it doesn’t work at all, no matter how hard you try.” Said Ben. “Well, perfection is impossible.” Said Nick. “You do not ever let Jodie leave you.” Said Ben, “All we have in the world are the people we know and love. That’s all we’ve got and that’s all that matters. I’m with Willow because she’s the only one that’ll have me. Nick, listen to me,” Ben turned to him, his arms wrapped around his legs, “We get maybe 70 or 80 years on this planet. Well, not this planet, but you know what I mean. If we’re lucky, we get that much time. So what you do is you find the people that you care about the most and



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you do all that you can to be with them and to have a good time doing it. There’s nothing else that really matters. Morality is bullshit because nobody wants to be moral when they could have it all by being corrupt. Morality doesn’t get you anything but martyrdom and even then who remembers what you did? The people that you know, I know, the people that we love…they’re what’s important. They shouldn’t be used as vessels or variables or anything else…I was wrong to pull you into this…into my own problems, and I’m sorry.” Said Ben, and he got up and started to walk off into the darkness. Nick kept prodding the fire and let him walk off. HOUR 37 The sun was shining bright as the day broke. Suddenly a siren went off and Nick’s eyes blasted open, and he found himself staring at water sloshing up at his face. He heard shouting, and recognized it as Willow and Jodie. He then saw Willow standing over him, holding her hand out. “We have to go NOW!” she said, and she pulled him up. “What…what the hell’s going on?” Nick asked, and Willow looked at him. “The thing Ben didn’t think about, while he may have planned everything else out, was that there are consequences to the things that you do, what we do changes the entire universe on a day to day basis. So that doesn’t stop applying just because we’re in a different universe, ok? There are still consequences, and there are still reactions. The universe is reacting to what we did, and now, if we don’t leave…we may never get home. Now come on.” Nick took her hand and she handed him a gun. He looked at it and she smiled.



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“I hope to GOD that you know how to use that.” She said and she ran off, Nick and Jodie on her trail. As they started their way through the tall grass, Nick shouted after her. “Where’s Ben?!” “I have no idea, he took off last night! I haven’t seem him since you did!” she shouted back and Jodie caught up to her. “What exactly is going on?” Jodie asked, catching her breath. “We had a hand in a terrorist attack, not on purpose, but we did, and now it’s a serious investigation. We look like accomplices to your father!” Willow yelled at Nick, “And we’ve got to hide.” “Isn’t it possible that Zoe is still alive if her consciousness jumped from this body to our Zoe’s body?” Nick asked and Willow stopped, turned back and looked him straight in the eye. “She didn’t jump, she couldn’t. She had to die for me to live. If you die in whatever body you’re in without jumping back, you die. Dead is dead, there’s no coming back from that. Your father is dead.” Said Willow, “Now come on, shut up, and follow me.”

Ben was standing in the lab, watching Willow shift in her seat as he lit a cigarette. He sat on a steel table and stared dead ahead. He had jumped back, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t have a plan. Ben reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wallet. As he unflipped it, he looked at the photos and saw one of Willow and Zoe together, smiling, having fun like sisters do. Ben sighed, breathed heavily then puffed his cigarette. He looked back at Willow. “I’m so sorry, Willow.” He said, and he stood up kissed her on the forehead. Just then the door opened and Nick was standing there holding a drink and a book. “What’re you doing here?” Nick asked, and Ben looked at him. “I fucked up.” He said, “I fucked up really bad.”

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“What…what happened?” Nick asked and Ben put his cigarette out. “Zoe died. It was all my fault. Your father showed up, blew up an entire damn bridge.” Said Ben and Nick put his drink down and grabbed Ben by the lapels. “You have to go back in there!” “I don’t have a plan, Nicholas! I had one…I’ve had one since…” Ben started, then stopped. Nick looked at him and Ben turned his back on him, and then stood still. Nick waited. “Well?” Nick asked and Ben didn’t turn around. “What did you get on your 8th birthday? What was your favorite gift?” Ben asked. “What does this have to do-“ “Just answer the question.” Nick thought for a moment, tapping his feet, “Uh…I guess…it was this pen, I…I used it to start writing when I was at home. It was made in Germany; it was like, the X47 or something. It was the…” Nick stopped and then grabbed Ben by the shoulder and turned him around, “You’ve been watching me…MY WHOLE LIFE, YOU’VE BEEN WATCHING ME?!” Ben nodded, tears in his eyes. “I can’t…you…you gave that to me! You’ve had all of this planned out since I was 8!?” Nick screamed and he threw his drink against the wall. Ben nodded, then sniffled. “And now, for the first time, I don’t have a plan.” Said Ben, “We’ve got 30 something hours left and I don’t have a plan.” Nick turned back around, “I do,” he said; sitting down in the chair, “Let’s do this.”



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HOUR 36 Willow slowly pushed some tall grass out of the way and stopped. Nick and Jodie could hear the rumble of traffic. Nick suddenly staggered back a bit and rubbed his forehead and Jodie grabbed his hand. “Are you ok?” she asked, and he looked at her and smiled. “I’m fine.” He said, and then looked at Willow, “Hey, what’s going on?” “Traffic, street. I don’t hear sirens anymore.” She said, and they walked out onto the sidewalk. They were right next to a small town, not consisting of more than maybe a few stops. A pawnshop to the left, a gas station to the right, a diner and a dirty bookstore. Willow started to head down the street to the left and stopped in front of the pawnshop, staring at the TV’s as they blared the news. The anchor came on loud and clear. “A terrorist attack occurred earlier on the highway 47 bridge, bombs had been lined up and were detonated remotely it appears. A group of 4 people escaped, supposedly accomplices to the man in charge, who could not be found. As of this time, we only have one lead, a man who was with them at the time of the explosion. We go live now to that man,” said the anchor, and the scene cut to Darren sitting in a chair speaking to another anchor. “I just…want my girlfriend back. I don’t think she did this, I don’t think that’s possible. If I find whoever took her…I…I cannot emphasize what may happen when I turn you in.” Darren said, and then they cut back to the anchor giving the report. Willow looked at Jodie and Nick, and she breathed heavily, staring at them, then finally turned back and started off down the street, the two of them on her heels. “Where are you going?!” Nick shouted. “To find me.” Willow replied.



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HOUR 35 Willow was standing in front of a steel door, Nick and Jodie behind her. She started to jiggle the doorknob, then smashed it with her elbow and the door became unhinged and she kicked it in. Nick and Jodie’s eyes surveyed the room. “What…what is this place?” Nick asked. “If I’m the one who invented this equipment, then theoretically it would have to exist in this universe too. This is the address it had me listed under in the phone book.” Said Willow, and she pulled the shades upon to let sunlight into the room and showing white sheets covering up large pieces of equipment. Willow put her hands on her hips and smiled. “Wonderful.” She said, grinning wide as she twisted her hair in her finger, then started to unsheet the equipment. Willow started to look at it and she backed up, with a confused look on her face. “What’s up?” Nick asked, and Willow turned around, her eyes wide. “This isn’t set up.” She said, “I think-“ They heard a gun click and they all looked at the door behind them, and Ben was standing there. But this wasn’t the Ben that they knew.

Nick was laying in the chair as Ben sat beside him, flipping through a magazine as Nick attached all the nodes and cords to himself. He finally tossed some down in frustration, then looked at Ben. “Are you going to help?” “I’m learning how to please my man.” Said Ben, then he put the magazine down and looked at Nick and started to attach the rest. Ben leaned forward and smiled, his hand on Nick’s shoulder.

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“Nick, my part in this is done. I’ve saved Willow. This is your turn now. Get Jodie and yourself back here, ok? I’m not going in with you.” Said Ben and he had a tear in his eyes, “And if you fail, I’m sorry that I dragged you into my problems. Good luck, Nicholas. I’m sorry I’ve made your life such a living hell.” Nick smiled, nodded, and said, “Goodbye Ben.”

Willow stared at Ben, and Nick knew what was going on. “Ben, what’re you-“ Willow started but Nick put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not him. It’s not the Ben we know.” Nick said, and Willow glanced back at him, then back at Ben. Ben approached, his gun aimed right at Jodie. “I’ve been looking for you. You’re all in a whole mess of trouble. What you did was considered a terrorist attack.” Said Ben, and Nick whispered to Willow. “If we show him a totem or something, will it make him realize we’re his friends?” “No. This isn’t the same as a dead mind inhabiting a second person. This is a whole different man, Nick. Just let me handle this.” Said Willow, and she pushed his hand off her shoulder. Willow put her hands out before her and stared Ben straight in the eyes. “Take me. I’m the one who orchestrated it. These two are not responsible, I’m the one you want.” She said, and Ben smiled. He reached into his coat and slapped on some cuffs to Willow’s wrists, then grabbed her by the arm and she looked at Nick. “What…what are you doing?” Nick asked. “Shoot him.” Said Willow, and Ben looked at her, as did everyone else in the room. Nick backed up against the wall, Jodie staring from her seat.



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“What-no! Don’t shoot him! Willow!” Jodie shouted, standing up, and Willow didn’t even glance at her, her eyes were dead set on Nick. “Do it.” She said, and Nick walked forward a bit. “Willow…whatever plan you’ve-“ Nick started before Ben plugged two shots into his chest and he stumbled backwards, back against the wall and slid down. Willow felt tears roll down her face as she looked halfway at Jodie, then down at the floor. “I’m sorry.” She cried, and Jodie shrieked and rushed to Nick’s side. Ben turned and exited the room with Willow in his hands as Jodie crawled across the floor to get to Nick. Nick felt her hands grab his, she looked at the shots, then up at his face and her blood smeared hands grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. “Nick…get up, we-we can go get them, we can get her back and we can fix this.” Jodie said and Nick shook his head, smiling. “I understand now,” he said, “That this…all of this…was never meant to work out.” Nick ran his hand to her face and she sobbed as she kissed his palm. “Don’t leave me.” Jodie said, “Please don’t leave me here, alone.” “You’re never alone,” said Nick, “As long as you have memories. That’s all we ever really had anyway. I love you. I’ll see you again soon.” Nick leaned in and kissed her then stammered a bit and fell back into the wall. Jodie grabbed the gun in his coat and rushed out into the hall, kicking the door open and she aimed for Ben’s beck. “HEY!” she shouted and Ben turned and looked at her. Jodie fired twice into his chest and he fell onto his back. Willow lay on the floor as Jodie walked over her, standing above looking down and she aimed the gun down at her.



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“Don’t shoot me, you’ll never get home.” Said Willow. “You killed him. Why did you do that?” Jodie asked, sobbing through clenched teeth. Willow sat up against the wall, stammering. “B-because, it HAD to happen,” said Willow, “It was very important that he died.” “I THOUGHT I WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE!” Jodie screamed, “WHAT IS YOUR PLAN! AND WHY IS BEN SUDDENLY AGAINST US!?” Willow slid up against the wall and looked terrified as she rushed to explain. “Once a universe becomes aware of another universe, some people are able to block off mental passages from one of the kind to the other. That’s why Ben couldn’t re-enter himself, because this Ben wouldn’t allow it. But it’s why you can remember things that have happened to the other you, the you I knew. Because memories are all that we have.” Said Willow, “Memories is how we connect throughout time. They’re the strongest indicator of the fact that we haven’t forgotten our ancestors, the people we loved, and the ones who meant the most to us. Memories are going to save us.” Jodie slumped herself against the door in the hallway and put her hand over her mouth. “He’s gone…he went through all of that trouble to save me and he’s gone, WHY would he do that just to die himself?!” Jodie screamed. “Because he was supposed to die in the first place. He saved you because he loves you that much. Ben did the same for me.” Willow replied, now looking at the ground, “And so did my sister. For one thing to live another must die. Those aren’t just the rules for jumping; they’re the rules of the world. For every birth there is a death. It’s the circle of life, and nothing-not even what I do-can stop that.” Jodie put the gun down and fell into Willow sobbing, and Willow held her best as she could without using her arms. Just then



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they heard a scratch on the floor and saw Ben moving a bit, stuttering. “Ugh…dammit…” Willow looked at Jodie and nodded. “We have to go.” She said and Jodie understood. She began to attack the issue of Willow’s handcuffs when she felt another gun put to her neck, and behind her was Darren. “Go where?” he asked, and Jodie swallowed, realizing there may not be an escape this time. He walked around them and helped Ben up, who leaned against the wall. “Thanks.” Ben said and Darren nodded. “No problem, thanks for finding her.” Said Darren, “So Jodie…double lives huh? Meeting other men?” Darren looked down the hall into the room at the end and rocked his gun at it, scoffing, “Looks like he didn’t hang around too long.” “I don’t love you,” said Jodie. “Baby, sure you do, you just don’t realize it yet,” said Darren, “Ben here helped me find you, he’s the best at pulling punches, honey. This man-“ Darren put his arm on Ben’s back, “-this man is incredible, he can pull the rug out from under you when you’re least expecting it.” “You’re damn right I can,” said Ben and he tripped Darren and stomped on his hand, making him scream, then looked at the women, “Ladies, shall we leave now?” Jodie and Willow-both in utter shock-merely nodded and raced to the room and Ben stood over Darren. “What are you doing?! Get them!” Darren screamed, looking up at Ben. Ben bit his bottom lip and looked away. “See the problem with that is-“ said Ben, crushing Darren’s hand more, “-that was the me from this universe.” Jodie and Willow were in the apartment as they started to pull the chairs out into the hallway. Jodie stopped and looked at Nick, then looked back at Willow.



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“Where’s the cross? The one he’s always had, mine? Where is it?” Jodie asked and Willow shook her head as she smashed her cuffs on the wall snapping them in two. “I don’t know, and we don’t have time for that right now!” she shouted, “Help me get this thing downstairs, there’s a truck in the parking garage!” The two women began to lug the chairs out of the hall and into the stairway. Ben watched for a minute, making sure they made it down all right while Darren reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pen, and then jammed it into Ben’s foot. Ben screamed and fell against the hallway as Darren got up and Ben head butted him. Ben then took off the opposite way of the hall and Darren followed him. The girls were headed downstairs as Ben was headed up. Ben kicked in the door to the rooftop open and scrambled out onto the gravel-laden roof of the apartments, Darren right behind him, gun in hand. Darren shut the door behind him, and aimed for Ben. Ben turned around and stared at him. “I don’t know exactly who you are, Benjamin Archer, but I do know that your services are no longer needed,” said Darren, “Because this is the last job you’ll ever complete.” Below the truck started and Ben could hear it’s motor. It pulled out and started right below him, as Ben looked over the edge. Willow stuck her head out. “JUMP!” she screamed. Ben looked at Darren and smiled. “Darren, I’m so sorry to have cut our quality time so short today, but I have another universe to be getting to,” Ben said and he turned and raced towards the end of the building. Darren fired a few shots and as Ben stopped at the end of the roof and smiled back at him. “Enjoy what little irony you have left, Darren. The gun you’re using is my gun, the one that killed Nick. And now I’m going to die too.” He said and Ben leapt off the rooftop and collapsed into the ground. Darren turned around as cops swarmed the



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exit and were holding their own guns as Darren looked at his weapon and sighed. “Son of a bitch,” he said and he dropped his weapon. In the truck Willow and Jodie sat back and sighed in peace. Jodie looked at Willow and Willow held her hand. “I’m sorry you didn’t get your cross,” she said, “But it doesn’t matter, we’re going home.” Jodie nodded, and said, “You know…for what it’s worth…it was better than most of my afternoons. I’d rather live in a different universe with a dead lover than in a terrible universe with a bad lover.” Willow smiled and nodded, clearly agreeing. Jodie laid back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. “I’m taking a nap, where are we going?” she asked. Willow put both her hands back on the steering wheel and said, “Wisconsin. December 17th. It’ll be a long drove.”

8 MINUTES Jodie woke up in a small cabin, looking at a photo on a nightstand. She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times before it clearly came into focus. It was of Nick and his mother, then she looked at the door and saw Willow standing in the doorway. “That’s Nick when he was 8. This was their vacation home. Their universe away from the hell of their other universe. This is where memories are made.” Said Willow and she sat on the end of the bed as Jodie sat up and picked up the photo, looking into it. “I can’t believe after all of this he’s just gone.” She said. “He’ll never be gone if you remember him. Photos, video, it’s all just a way to help us recall the moments and people that we



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loved the most, and miss the most. As long as you have those things-have those memories-Nick will never really be gone.” Jodie looked away from the photo and up at Willow, who smiled and held her hand. “Thank you…for everything. You and Ben.” She said, “You guys…are awesome.” Willow smiled wider, “Thank Ben yourself sweetheart.” She said, “Now come on, let’s get into the chairs and let’s jump home.” Jodie nodded. The two girls exited the room, as Jodie looked around at the things in the home. Photos of Nick, photos of his mother. She saw a large cross over the main door and smiled. Jodie sat down in the chair and Willow did the same and they strapped themselves in, and then held each other’s hands. “Hold on tight ok, this is going to be a big one.” She said and Jodie nodded, then shut her eyes.

When Jodie opened her eyes, she heard a voice. Distant, but distinct. She could see two people standing together in front of her a few feet away and talking. “We did the right thing,” said Willow, “It was perfectly executed.” Ben leaned down in front of Jodie, who could see him clearly now and smiled. “Like I told Nick…I ALWAYS have a plan.” Said Ben, “Welcome home Jodie. I’m here to take you home. Would you like to go home?” Jodie nodded and smiled, “I really would.” Ben took her hand, the girls hugged and said their goodbyes, promising to see one another again soon and Ben lead her out of the room. Driving down the road, Jodie was looking out the window and Ben could see that.

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“It looks almost identical to where I came from, it’s crazy.” She said. “The universes are ultimately the same, but the people-the variables-they are different.” Said Ben, “We have to make a quick stop.” Ben pulled off at a small building a few minutes later and Jodie grabbed his arm. “Thank you for everything, I know that if Nick were here…he’d thank you too.” Ben smiled, “I know he would.” Ben opened his door and held up his finger to indicate he’d only be a minute. He then started to walk towards the house. Jodie shut her eyes and sighed a large breath of relief, thankful that she was finally home. She heard knuckles tapping on the window and she rolled it down to see Nick standing there, smiling at her. “What…what are you doing here?” she asked, “You’re alive?” Nick nodded and Jodie pushed her door open and stared at him as she scrambled out of the car. “I’m alive, yeah,” Nick laughed. “YOU’RE ALIVE?!” she screamed, and then leaped into his arms, throwing herself around him, sobbing with joy. Nick held her and patted her back. Ben leaned on the car, smiling as he wiped a small tear away. Jodie looked at Ben. “How-how is this-“ she started and Ben cleared his throat. “Willow told you how the universe doesn’t allow some people back in once they become aware to the situation. Like my other half was. But when he got shot and became unconscious, I had a chance to jump back in there and fix things. I merely jumped off the roof and back into my own reality while the other me plunged to his death. There’s no more jumping for me. Nick on the other hand never even joined us until he got shot. Love is a funny thing Jodie, it-like memories-doesn’t really exist. You can’t see love, you can’t touch love or feel love…but you can create love. A love so powerful that it can



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pass through universes itself. Nick’s love for you was so strong that the Nick in the other universe felt it too. Recruiting him was easy, I merely told him about the dilemma and he instantly understood. Nick jumped into that body to get you to the building safe and sound and be shot so that you wouldn’t be, and then jumped back out before that body died. Like I have said…memories are all we have, and they’re strong. They can overcome anything and will be with us until the day we are no more, but we’ll always be creating new memories…passing them onto other people. Leaving them with some. The cycle just continues.” “Ben…I don’t even know how to begin to thank you but-“ Jodie started but Ben stopped her. “Hey, I was the one who got you all into this mess right?” and he swung his car keys around in his hand as Nick and Jodie kissed, laughed for a few moments. Nick looked at Ben as he got into his car and leaned into the passengers window. “You’re going?” “Well…I have to go pick up Willow…then we’re going to go somewhere quiet and secluded for a while. I can’t be around here though…I need to retire from all this shit,” said Ben, smiling. Nick nodded, understanding. “Can we come?” he asked. “You wanna come with ME? After everything I’ve put you through?” Ben asked and Nick nodded again, laughing. “Of course.” “And what about killing me after finding Jodie again? That doesn’t hold up anymore?” Ben asked, and Nick waved his hand. “What’s past is past, right?” he asked. Ben laughed and they both got into the car. Ben put the key in the ignition and looked at them, “You sure? You ready?” They both nodded, holding each other close as Ben turned the key and started it up.



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“Let’s jump, folks.”



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The End



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