The Trunk Page 3

  A figure appeared to her left. Automatically, she jabbed the person hard with the end of the handle. The guy cried out in pain and bent over. Raising the stick, she brought it down over the guy’s back and head. The man slumped to the floor near her feet.

  Emlee stepped over him and hurried up the steps to the living room. If luck was still with her, she might spot her fireplace poker and be able to take it with her.

  Reaching the open door, she exited the basement.

  Shock overwhelmed her.

  Unable to believe her eyes, she stumbled sideways. Her hip caught the edge of a small table standing against the wall. A glass bowl which had been sitting on it slid onto the floor, breaking into several pieces. The items which had been inside the bowl went skittering across the tiles, but that’s not what held her attention.

  The ceiling was whole. Totally intact. There was no cave-in, no destruction. Nothing.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head, then slowly opened them again, hoping she wasn’t hallucinating.

  The house was untouched and undamaged. The glass doors leading onto the patio were pristine, and the entire interior was spotless.

  “What the hell am I seeing?” she murmured. “How is this possible? How the fuck is this possible?”

  She temporarily forgot about escaping. Instead, she walked further into the living room and turned around to get a good look at everything. Out through the glass doors she saw a well-manicured lawn. Down the hallway, pictures hung on the wall. To her far right was a fireplace, which she hadn’t noticed before because the roof had been covering it…

  “Or had it? Did I just dream about this place being destroyed? Or am I dreaming now?”

  Her eyes caught the faint shine of a set of brass fireplace tools. Going over to it, she grabbed the poker and gave it a couple of experimental swings. It would do nicely.

  Another sound caught her attention, making her look up. A plane was flying overhead. A plane! Those were one of the few things the aliens refused to share the skies with. No aircraft or tall buildings could impede their movements.

  She ran over to the double glass sliding doors to gaze up into the sky. Presently, she spotted it—a twin-engine prop plane buzzing just above the trees and houses. But as happy as she was to see the machine, it left her more confused.

  How was this possible?

  Turning around, her attention immediately went to the doorway leading into the kitchen. Without hesitating, she walked into the room and headed straight to the refrigerator. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, prepared to be met with the sight and foul stench of rotted food. Instead, she found herself staring at an array of food, some still crisp and fresh, as a wave of cold air washed over her. Unable to believe what she was seeing, she pulled out the half gallon carton of milk, opened it, and sniffed. Then, hesitantly, she took a sip.

  It was cold and delicious.

  There wasn’t much left in the carton, but it didn’t matter. She drank the rest of it, delighting in a taste she hadn’t had in years. After she’d emptied it, she reached to put the carton on the counter when her gaze locked on the expiration date stamped across the carton.

  Best if used by Apr 9, 2037

  She dropped the carton and backed away, slamming her bottom against the dishwasher.

  “No. No, that’s not possible.”

  Unable to believe what she’d read, Emlee picked up the carton and read aloud the expiration date, just to be sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. “Best if used by April ninth, two thousand—”

  “Hey!”

  She whirled around to see the young man she’d beaten with the broom handle now standing in the doorway. He glared angrily at her as he clutched his side where she’d jabbed him.

  “Who the fuck are you? And what are you doing in this kitchen?” He held up what appeared to be a cell phone, adding, “Don’t think about running away, either. I’ve called the cops, and they’ll be here any second to lock your ass up for attacking me!”

  Chapter Five

  Spared

  Calm, Emlee. Keep calm. Move slowly. Find the nearest exit and break for it the second he’s distracted.

  She tried to maintain her composure, but her instincts were telling her to choose flight, not fight. If she could keep him preoccupied enough, maybe the arrival of the police would provide her with the distraction she needed take off.

  “Put that poker down,” the man demanded harshly.

  She’d forgotten she was still holding onto it. She glanced over at the still-open fridge where she’d propped the broom handle. The sight of the edible food sent a signal to her stomach, which rumbled hungrily for attention.

  The man took a step into the kitchen and reached a hand out to shove the refrigerator door, closing it. “Answer me, bitch. What are you doing in this house? Who are you?” His eyes narrowed. “Is that my shirt you’re wearing?”

  She glanced down at the grizzly bear imprint. “Listen, I can explain. I mean… Shit, this is all wrong. This is all so wrong!”

  “You damn right it’s wrong! Wrong house! And you messed with the wrong guy,” the man shot back. “What’s your name, bitch?”

  “Emlee.”

  “Emily what?”

  She shook her head once. “Not Emily. Emlee, with two syllables. My last name’s Dow. Tell me, what is today’s date?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed, and she noticed for the first time what an incredible shade of blue they were. “Today’s date? Why?”

  “Please. Humor me.”

  “March thirty-first. Why?”

  “And the year?”

  The man appeared surprised. “The year?”

  “What year is it?” Emlee begged.

  “Two thousand thirty-seven.” He cocked his head slightly. “Is something wrong with you? Why do you need to know the date?”

  She pressed a hand to her forehead to discover the knot still there. So were her bandaged wounds, the fresh clothing she’d put on, her scuffed and muddy boots, all of it. She hadn’t changed. Just her circumstances. Her surroundings.

  And the time.

  She licked her lips. “If I told you the truth, you’d think I’m certifiable. Shit, I probably am. Go ahead and lock me up. It won’t matter anyway in a couple of days.”

  The man’s frown deepened. “Why won’t it matter in a couple of days? What’s going to happen?”

  She tried to give him a smile, but failed, grimacing instead. “If I told you…”

  “I wouldn’t believe you anyway,” he finished with her. This time she managed to smile. “Try me,” he challenged. “What’s going to happen in a couple of days?”

  “The world is going to end.”

  It took him a couple of seconds to realize she was being serious.

  “For real?”

  “For real.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit. The world as you know it right now will end on April second. At least, the United States will. I’m assuming the whole world will be affected, but I don’t know for certain because all communication and stuff is gone.”

  He took another step into the kitchen. The movement pained him. He groaned as he grabbed his side again and bent over.

  Emlee tossed the poker aside and ran over to where he slumped onto the floor. “Here. Lie down. I-I’m sorry I hit you so hard. I thought you were one of those men.”

  “What men?” he gasped.

  “Those people who go after loners.”

  His face took on an ashen hue, making his freckles appear darker than they were. “In the future,” he remarked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re telling me you’re from the future.”

  “I’m…I don’t know what’s happening to me.” She touched her forehead again. If anything, the bump felt bigger and warm to the touch. “The last thing I remember is taking refuge in this house. I found the door to the downstairs basement by accident because it was covered up by the roof.”

  “What
do you mean, it was covered up?”

  “The roof.” She gestured up and down. “It had fallen in. I guess from the firefights. I was running from some of those men, and ended up here. I found your food stash and water, and helped myself.” She touched her chest. “I took my first bath in months and put your clothes on because they were there, and they were clean. I went to sleep, and when I woke up…” She finally met his gaze. “I was here. Back in time. Before the aliens landed.”

  She noticed his eyes checking out her forehead. He started to say something, but they were interrupted by a pounding on the front door. “Police! Open up!”

  Emlee gave the young man a pat on the shoulder. “Stay here. Don’t move. I’ll let them in.”

  He snagged her shirt, his attention focused on the wrappings on her arm and hand. “You’re injured?”

  “Yeah. I used some of your hydrogen peroxide and bandages, too.”

  “How did you injure yourself? From those…other men?”

  She nodded and got to her feet to answer the door.

  Two officers with their hands on the butts of their pistols stood on the veranda. One of them glanced over her shoulder as he introduced himself. “I’m Officer Nim of the Port Meggin Police. We got a 9-1-1 call from a Mr. Sinth. Is he here?”

  “Yes. He’s in the kitchen.” She stepped back and waved for them to enter, then led them into the kitchen where the second officer knelt next to the man lying on the floor.

  “Are you Mr. Sinth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you the person who called 9-1-1?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t move. Help is on its way.”

  “Miss, I’d like you to come with me.” Officer Nim gestured for her to go with him back into the entry, but the man on the floor spoke up.

  “No. Wait. It was a misunderstanding. I didn’t know it was her.”

  The second officer tried to shush the man, but he persisted.

  “She’s my girlfriend. I didn’t know she’d come here. I thought someone had broken into the house.”

  “Did she attack you?” the second officer queried.

  “Yes, she did, but she thought I was an intruder. I didn’t know it was her until afterwards.” The man laughed weakly. “It’s a bad case of misunderstanding, officer. I didn’t know she was home, and she didn’t know I’d gotten home either. She was just trying to protect herself.”

  Both officers eyed her. Emlee offered a regretful smile but kept still and silent, with her hands clasped in front of her.

  “What did she hit you with?” the second officer inquired.

  “I…don’t know,” the man admitted.

  They all three looked up at her. “I hit him with a broom handle. It was the only thing I could find to defend myself with,” she told them.

  Officer Nim motioned for her to turn around. She obeyed without protest as he placed a pair of handcuffs on her. “Let’s wait outside while the medics check him out.”

  She was escorted out to the front yard to find a few of the neighbors had gathered in the adjacent yards and across the street to rubberneck. A firetruck and ambulance were pulling up to the house as they were exiting. Instead of placing her inside the patrol car, as she’d expected, he took her arm to turn her around, and had her lean against the vehicle. She watched as two techs rushed into the house with a medical kit and a gurney.

  “What’s your name, Miss?” Nim pulled a small spiral notebook and a pen from his breast pocket.

  “Emlee Dow.”

  “How do you spell that?”

  “E-m-l-e-e D-o-w.”

  “Do you have any ID?”

  “No.”

  “How do you know the suspect?”

  She took her cue from the man. “He’s my boyfriend.”

  “Do you live here?”

  “I just moved in.” The man raised an eyebrow at her, so she added, “That’s why he didn’t know I was there.” She was very careful to keep her answers short and simple, and not to elaborate. To give them more than they asked for could trip her up.

  “You’re new in town?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “South Carolina.”

  He pointed to her bandages. “How’d you get injured?”

  “Hitchhiking on my way here.”

  Nim looked surprised. “You hitchhiked all the way from South Carolina?”

  “My purse with my phone, and ID, and all my money was stolen. I had no other choice.”

  “Did you report the items stolen?”

  “No. I was afraid I’d get picked up for vagrancy.”

  “How about family?”

  “No family. There’s just me.”

  “Why not have someone call your boyfriend and have him come get you? Or have him send money to you?”

  Careful, Emlee.

  “I thought I could manage.” She jutted out her chin a bit to show defiance. “Besides, I wanted to surprise him.”

  Nim chuckled as he jotted something down on his memo pad. “Looks like you got your wish.”

  She glanced back at the house. She had no idea why the guy was taking up for her and claiming they were in a relationship. But if it would keep her out of jail, she had no problem going along with the ruse.

  The cop took a seat inside his car and consulted his computer. A few minutes later, he got out and approached her. “Miss Dow, I confirmed your previous address in Peelerville. I also confirmed you have no warrants or criminal record.”

  The second officer joined them and gave a nod to his partner. “The victim still insists he doesn’t want to press charges. He claims it was a case of mistaken identity, and he had no idea she’d arrived. He thought she was a burglar.”

  “In that case, we can’t hold you. Awright, Miss Dow. If you’ll turn around, I’ll remove the cuffs from you.”

  She obeyed, glancing over her shoulder at the two men. “How’s he doing? Is he going to be okay?”

  “The medics are running an evaluation on him now, but it looks like they’re going to transport him to the hospital,” the second cop informed her. A check of his nametag showed his name as D. RAMPART.

  “Is there any way I can get a ride to the hospital if they do take him?” she asked.

  “You’ll have to order you a taxi, or get a neighbor to take you,” Rampart advised. “They won’t let you ride with them, and we can’t drive you over there.”

  Emlee nodded to show she understood, when she noticed the medics bringing the man she’d assaulted out of the house. The man had his eyes closed as they loaded him and the gurney into the back of the EMS van. “What hospital are they taking him to?”

  “St. David’s,” Nim answered. He noticed her rubbing her wrists where the cuffs had been. “Are you sure you don’t want a medic to look at those wounds?”

  “Thanks, but no, thanks. I’m fine. They’re healing okay. Thanks, Officer Nim. I’ll go call for a ride, like you suggested.”

  The two cops departed, as did the ambulance and firetruck. After they’d disappeared down the road, Emlee went back inside the house, locking the door behind her.

  She had no idea how long the man would have to stay at the hospital, but if St. David’s was downtown, chances were good it would be targeted by the aliens the day after tomorrow.

  Emlee bit her lower lip as she considered her options. She already knew the house would survive. At least the basement bedroom would. As for the guy…

  I don’t even know his name. By not pressing charges, he’d saved her life. That would be twice in my lifetime I’ll survive the inevitable.

  “I don’t know if he lived through the first attack. But after this, the least I can do is save his this time.”

  Out the front window she saw a bright red Vayva sitting in the driveway. That had to be his car.

  Straightening, she marched back downstairs to find the spare key fob.

  Chapter Six

  Mykail

  What have I gott
en myself into?

  Mykail lay on the examination bed and stared at the ceiling as he waited to be taken to be x-rayed. Closing his eyes, he dwelled on the reason why he was here. On the young woman who’d attacked him, then ran.

  But she didn’t run. Instead of bugging out, she’d stopped in the kitchen and opened the damn fridge. She hadn’t tried to escape. She’d opened the damn fridge!

  He couldn’t forget discovering her in there, or the way she’d stood staring into the refrigerator, looking into it as if she’d never seen such a thing before in her life.

  Or that haunted look in her eyes when she’d glanced up at him.

  He’d read about people having that look in their eyes. Hungry people. Haunted people. Tormented people. People who struggled daily to survive.

  Those sad, puppy dog eyes, as if they were on the verge of giving up.

  “I thought you were one of those men.”

  “The world is going to end.”

  She’d told him the truth, or the truth as she saw it, and it terrified her.

  “The world is going to end.”

  And then the police had arrived.

  That’s why I lied to the police, he silently admitted to himself. Not so much because I believe her, but I almost believe her.

  He’d never been one of those who accepted stories of haunted objects, ghosts, and curses as being true. Same for time travel and aliens from outer space. But something about Emlee pushed his curiosity button. It was like…

  “If I don’t believe her, then in two days, I’m doomed.”

  Mykail winced. Geesh, he sounded psychotic. But what if, by some weird twist of fate, or science, or whatever cosmic skullduggery was going on, what if what she told him was the truth?

  “Yeah, and what if Bigfoot was part of the Russian mafia?”

  The curtain slid back, and a male nurse walked in. “We’re taking you to get x-rayed, Mr. Sinth. You ready?”

  “Fire away.”

  The EMS guys had checked him for bruises and cuts, but found nothing other than the welt on his side and the one on the back of his shoulders. That woman had put him down with a broom handle like a professional.

  Or a woman terrified of being brutalized. Her adrenaline must’ve been hyped up to the max.