Atemporals [Part Three]

Previous parts: Part 1 ; Part 2

---

My thoughts had reassembled themselves like a jigsaw puzzle. I blinked little grains of white from my eyes, but they hung around as stubborn as glitter. Darwin and the gang had hastily begun to gather their equipment. Crick tore off strips of wiring and broke down the metal chair while Nick packaged up the laptop.

Several car doors slammed. Without really realizing it, I was at the window.

Several men--ten, maybe fifteen?--spread out from vehicles parked at the end of a picturesque cul-de-sac. They wore these long, black robes that just barely grazed the lawns. Something about the way they walked twisted my stomach in knots. It was like watching a flock of birds. The men fanned out further and further. Clearly, they were looking for something, and it didn't take many brain cells to deduce what it might be.

"What. The. Fuck," I whispered.

"Get him back from there!" Darwin ordered.

The blinds snapped back into place as I was jerked away. Darwin stood straight-backed: all business. He had his briefcase hiked under his arm.

"We knew this'd happen. Things have just been..."

He paused to shoot me a glance.

"...complicated. They're adaptable, but so are we. Remember that. Goes without saying, but our priorities have shifted: we keep Scott alive above all else. His Thread takes priority over even your own."

The look on his face was almost proud.

"If anything goes wrong, well...I'll see you in the next life."

He started to walk off, but then stopped and added:

"Oh, and Nick, deal with the residents please? No sense in unnecessary casualties."

Nick, nodded, popping his knuckles. Then he sauntered towards the kitchen. For the first time, I noticed two pairs of sneakers sticking out from behind a marble topped kitchen island. Nick closed his eyes, breathed in deep, and static electricity stood my hair on end. The sneakers shuddered. Then they moved. The kitchen floor was suddenly a squeaking basketball court. The soles scraped along the length of the floor, not a soul nearby to do the dragging. To the left, a closet door swung open. After the bodies were inside, it swung closed with a soft click.

Nick turned to me with an all-consuming smile and bowed. His bulbous belly caved in on itself. It was hard not to think of the Blob, or Flubber, or a giant fucking beanbag stuffed with jello. Literally anything other than what was just laid bare before me. I wrenched my eyes closed; pinched my forearm hard.

This is not happening. This is not possible.

When Nick stood back up, something flickered over his face.

"Skip..."

A flowing shadow of a man blotted out the light from the other side of the living room window.

"Fuck, let's move."

The shadow was joined by another. And another. Then two more after that. Crick grabbed me by the wrist and marched me towards the kitchen. Darwin followed at our heels. Behind us rang the metallic jangle of a jostled doorknob. The shattering of glass.

When we stepped through the back door, Crick turned to me.

"Listen, this will be terrifying. You won't really see what's happening. Let your somatics and viserals do the dirty work."

"P-pardon?"

"Your sensory neurons," she frowned.

"R-right. Of course."

"Six o'clock!" yelled Darwin.

The robed men had circled round the house. They moved without saying a word, loping in these terrible, almost uniform strides. We turned tail and ran. My heart pounded away in a shrill staccato. We leaped through hedgerows, jumping clear over fences, but the robed men kept our pace and then some.

Faster and faster my feet ran. Until, suddenly, they no longer struck the earth. I dangled in the air like I'd been hoisted up on strings. I was marionette puppet, a plaything. My limbs hung useless by my side. The air around me compressed. I felt my throat closing up. My lungs began to scream.

"Help," my voice croaked.

Crick twitched her neck and severed the unseen connection. I toppled to the ground. She moved in on the group. Darwin and Nick flanked her. She advanced until she nearly stood right over me.

"Let."

She breathed sharply through her nose. Two of the robed men screamed, just briefly. A sickening crack twisted their necks nearly 180 degrees before they fell crashing to the ground.

"Your."

Crick whirled to the right, clenching her jaw. The three men she found were prepared this time though: their muscles tensed, the corners of their mouths twitched. Crick's nostrils flared. They were in some sort of imperceptible Mexican standoff. Meanwhile, Nick hiccuped from somewhere on the right. The robed men's eyes crossed. Trickles of blood trailed down from their noses and they, too, fell away lifeless.

"Sensors."

Off to the left, Darwin held a handful of men at bay. Nick and Crick moved in to help him. Beams of light, the very same from back in Keane unraveled before my eyes. Colors, more beautiful than can be described, flowed everywhere. I mean really flowed. A thread came forth from my chest. A cool shade of blue. I reached out and wet my finger. Its warmth surprised me.

"Do. The work."

When I looked up, a single robed man remained. A bald monk-like figure, with a deep set scowl. His thread hurled prickly red burs down the line towards all three. Crick twirled and laughed. It was beautiful really, like watching a cirque de solei acrobat. Or a juggler. Her thread swallowed his burs whole. Then she stood and unleashed. A purple ripple raced down the length of her thread, straight towards her bald adversary. When it reached him, the wave coiled into tendrils. They groped up, wrapped over his face, entered his nostrils. The man crumpled, lifeless, and my three saviors stood panting.

Saviors? Just earlier I'd called them kidnappers.

Crick helped me to my feet. I brushed off my knees.

"I saw the auroras," I said, my voice all raspy. "I've seen them before, actually. Back at the elevator."

"You're kidding," Crick said. Her eyebrows disappeared into her ink black bangs. She checked her watch.

"Well then, watch this."

She puffed her chest out one last time. The air shimmered around her. Her aurora shivered down its length until little pink tributaries split off. One by one the dead bodies disappeared.

I shook my head.

The lawn was pristine, not a drop of blood--as if none of this had ever happened.

---

Part 4

Hope you're enjoying it so far :) Would love to hear some feedback below. Trying my best to make each part at least 800 words. I'm a slow writer & terrible at finishing projects, but by golly I'm determined to do this one justice.