How To Go Back in Time Book One: Chapter Twelve

“The blood doesn’t match with anything we know. It’s not Justin’s, and it’s not any of the
victims.” James said, slamming a paper file on the counter. Paul looked up with wide eyes.
“So then who’s is it?” He asked.
I stayed in the corner, away from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. Puffing on a smoke.
“So it doesn’t match any of the suspects, and it doesn’t match any of the victims. You sure it’s not an
animal’s?”
“Positive.” James said. “It’s human.”
And with those words, a collective chill ran down everyone’s spine. “He’s playing with us.”
Rosa said aloud. “He’s telling us another murder will happen, and just… making us wait.”
I solemnly nodded. “That seems to be it. The last two murders were out in the desert, right?
Let’s start looking there.”
Just then the phone rang. Paul raced to grab it, and spoke to the operator. It was a break in and
assault. The address was one number off of Gabriel’s. Being that it was his neighbor, I decided to go.
* * *
A TRANSMISSION ABOUT THE AGONY OF THE SELF
OR
A CUTAWAY
Irwin walks the desert highways, drunk off his ass. He stumbles. He falls over the air. And as
two rays of pure light come soaring from the highway, he takes a drag of his cigarette. He tried to sleep.
Couldn’t. And somewhere in between, the emptiness got a hold of him, and he knew he needed to get it
out.
It’s like the stage-lights turning off, and your the only one in the audience. Everyone has
departed, and you are now left to face yourself. Look at the trees. Look at that head light. There is no
one here but you.
Now the moon is a little lower in the sky, and the stars were being wiped out. Do a lot of
walking, and you’ll come to find out the best punishment is to constantly think. It’s agony, sure. But you
learn from it. You get a direct mirror of yourself, and you do your best to get better. Take it in stride.
Now the sun has risen and Irwin walks up the dirt path to a motel. It’s not his. It’s some inn off
the one highway no goes on, simply because it leads to nowhere. He sits against the glowing neon sign,
taking a deep breath. There’s bags around his eyes. Most of the drunk has worn off. And a car passes
by, playing When You Sleep by My Bloody Valentine.
He takes out the spliff he rolled before he left, licks the corners of the paper, and lights it.
He’s tired.
* * *
THE PRESENT
The brakes squealed as I pulled off the road, and hit the trashcan. Kthuunk. I jumped out and
raced up the steps with my gun drawn. Peering through the windows, I could see bowls of food still
steaming on the table. The fan was still spinning. The light still on.
I carefully opened the door and stepped in. I made sure to stand on my tippy-toes, that way the
floorboards would not groan. From down the hall I heard something crash, and I sprinted through the
door. An old woman I recognized as Gretchen was on the floor sobbing. The window hung open.
“He attacked me! He attacked me!” She cried inconsolably.
“Which way did he go?” I said. There was no response. “Which. Way. Did. He. GO!?”
“Out the backyard and into the road! Out of town!”
I bolted through and fell out of the window. Landing in the bushes, I twisted my ankle but
pressed on anyway. When I got to the road, I saw a hooded figure running down to where it turned to
dirt. The poor bastard was heading directly into the desert.
“Stop running!” I screamed. “Stop running or I will shoot!”
He stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turned around. He was wearing a white mask with
three holes drilled into it. Like a bowling ball. Then, BANG!
The shot rang out and grazed my ear. I tumbled to the side and felt the blood drip down my
cheek. I fired a shot into the air but it missed. I stood up, and looking over the hill, I saw the suspect
was gone.
I ran back to Gretchen’s trailer and called an ambulance. Paul showed along with Rosa, and we
stood on the porch while the paramedics took Gretchen away.
“She had a cut on her face.” I said. “Curved, too. Matched the blade.”
“The blade we found?”
“Yes.”
He looked at Rosa and sighed. “So she was right. Whoever it is, he’s toying with us.”
“I just don’t understand how the knife got there.” Rosa said. “We found the weapon, before, the
attack.”
I strolled away from the group and lit a cigarette. I puffed on it while I thought. When was I
gonna get out of this hick town? This case was like a big ol’ maze. It never ended. Just continued. I was
growing weary. Thin.