I leapt up, the smell of ash coating my nostrils and clogging my throat.
I knew this job would be way too risky!
A memory from the emergency lessons flashed in my mind:
“If you do not know what is happening, always start by remembering things about yourself,” my time traveler mentor’s
Therrus eyed the snacks neatly aligned on the table and considered grabbing something before deciding that he was too nervous to find the food appealing. For now, he should just make his way to a corner. He turned and nearly collided with a young woman, almost sending the snacks on her plate tumbling.
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There’s a child missing. A boy.
From time itself.
That’s what Luke said.
“Children don’t just vanish,” I told him, sitting at my kitchen table sipping coffee.
“Actually, they do, and may the Earl Grey be with you,” he replied, while looking with confusion at my coffee cup. “Waffles have do you?”
The corpse on the table had a melted eye socket, no pulse, and a sticky note on its forehead that read: Don’t eat Carl’s yogurt.
Mariana Vale adjusted her gloves. “You’re contaminating a crime scene, Luke.”
Luke James, wearing two left shoes, a NASA hoodie, and a baseball cap that read “Rebel Alliance Flight School,”
Therrus never meant to fall into Drovenveil.
HQ had calibrated the portal for Earth—Rio de Janeiro, to be exact. Instead, his body tore through an alien sky, a streak of green cloaked in the illusion of human flesh.
The impact cratered the hillside. Bones snapped, then reset with the efficiency of his
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