that.”
“Why me though?” the gravelly-voiced man said. “Bunch of guys in this new task force would kill for this assignment.”
“You’re the best shot.”
As if to emphasize the point, one of them chambered a round in what sounded like a pistol. The noise was very loud in the room. Phil let out a squeak and his entire body jerked suddenly as if he’d had a spasm. Their eyes met again for the briefest of moments, Phil issuing a silent apology. Then, the couch was yanked away from the wall and both boys were dragged to their feet.
The first thing Solo noticed was the fury on Mr. Prince’s face. He was turning purple with rage before their eyes, his mouth working to make words, but failing as he looked back and forth between the two boys.
The second thing: they both held guns.
“What is this?” the other man said, a series of tattoos flexing on his forearms as he pointed his gun in the vicinity of Solo’s midsection. A strange symbol of a sun with light radiating from it decorated the breast pocket of his shirt. Solo couldn’t stop staring at the business end of the pistol. He suddenly felt like he might vomit.
“Philip? Solo? What are you doing in here?”
“Wait,” Tattoo said. “You know these kids?”
“Mr. Prince,” Solo said, “I can explain.”
Phil’s dad ignored him and spoke to the other man. “This is my son. And this,” he pointed his gun in my direction, “was my son’s best friend.” He turned back to Phil. “Did he put you up to this?”
Phil didn’t look at me and hesitating for only a second, perhaps seeing a way out. “It was his idea! I didn’t want to come in here!”
A chasm opened in Solo’s stomach. He looked at his best friend. “Phil—”
“Shut your mouth,” Mr. Prince said, advancing on Solo.
“I won’t say anything!” Phil said. He sounded close to tears. It took Solo a moment to realize that he said I and not we.
The two men glanced at each other. Mr. Prince reluctantly nodded. “Phil, go to your room.” Finally, Phil looked at Solo, just a quick glance of panic and sorrow and then he was gone.
Phil shut the door softly, like an apology, but the click of the lock was a bomb going off in Solo’s chest. The rest of his life would always be defined by the closing of that door.
He stared after his former best friend and faced the men and their guns. Defiance and anger made him feel a recklessness he’d never possessed before.
“You going to kill me now to protect your little secret?”
“You think 20 years is far enough?” Mr. Prince said to the tattooed man. To Solo he sounded resigned, sad almost.
“That should do it. It’s worked so far with those cells in Texas and Oregon.” Tattoo, on the other hand, sounded eager, a dog yanking on his leash.
Mr. Prince holstered his gun like he’d come to a decision. He pulled a small device from his pocket. It resembled a TV remote, if those things still existed. “The only reason you’re not dead already is because you were friends with Phil.” Were.
“You can’t play God,” Solo said. “It’s not right.”
“We’re making the world a better place. I don’t expect you to understand.” He looked at Tattoo. “Ready?” He nodded and grabbed Solo’s upper arm with an iron grip. Mr. Prince punched some buttons on the small device and then grabbed onto Solo’s other arm.
Solo remembered with an odd detachment that he had math homework to do, tucked away in the backpack still strapped to his shoulders. He remembered that his mom had asked him to vaporize the garbage that morning, but he’d forgotten. His father had tickets for the two of them to see the basketball game that night. When will I see them again?
And then there was a sudden intense rush of air and a kaleidoscope of swirling colors. Solo felt dead and reborn at the same instant like he was caught in a rolling wave and had no idea which way was up.
After seconds or years, he felt solid ground beneath him again and his legs buckled. He landed in a field of tall grass. Solo blinked trying to catch his breath.
Tattoo and Mr. Prince stood over him. “What a rush!” Tattoo said. “I never get tired of that!”
Mr. Prince was more somber. He looked down at Solo and shook his head. “Why did you have to hide in there, son? I want you to know I hate doing this. I truly do.”
“Where are we?” Solo said, looking around. It still looked like Oklahoma, but Phil’s house, the road, most of the trees, the distant football stadium, the power lines were all gone.
Tattoo chuckled. “Not where, kid. When.”
Solo stood on shaky legs. So it was true. He had just traveled through time. “When…” Despite the fact that he’d just lost his best friend and was probably going to lose his life, he still felt a sense of awe, wonderment even. “When are we? I mean, what year?”
Mr. Prince looked at the device in his hand. “2006.”
2006. People still held phones to their ears and drove their own cars. “What now?”
“You’re going to live out a full, happy life in the past.” Mr. Prince said. “It’s the only way.”
“Consider yourself lucky, kid,” Tattoo said. “If it was up to me, you’d be dead already.” Again, Solo noticed the emblem on his shirt.
“What happens to Phil?”
“He’s my son.”
“So, you won’t kill or banish him, right? Not until he starts asking too many questions you don’t want to answer.”
Mr. Prince sighed and turned to Tattoo. “We’re done here.” He pushed buttons on the device and took a step closer to his partner as if to touch his arm or shake his hand. They have to be touching to travel through time. Solo took a quick look around. There was nothing out here. What was he going to do? Where was he going to sleep or get food? He had nothing but his math homework, a few snacks and a bottle of water in his backpack.
Along with the encroaching terror came the rage again, sudden and white-hot. As the two men reached for each other, Solo shoved Tattoo.
Even though the man was built like a tree trunk, Solo’s move was so sudden it caught him off-guard and Tattoo stumbled back. Solo then lunged for the device in Mr. Prince’s hand, swatting it into the grass. Before he could grab it though, Mr. Prince tackled him. They both tumbled to the ground and that’s when they heard the shot.
Tattoo’s trying to kill me. Solo buried his face in the rough grass and froze.
“Stop shooting, you idiot, you’re going to hit me!” Mr. Prince said.
“That wasn’t me!”
“What?” Mr. Prince dove into the grass beside Solo. Tattoo did the same. Their eyes raked the countryside for any sign of the shooter.
“Get the Flux and let’s go!” Tattoo said. Mr. Prince felt around for the fallen device “Hurry, hurry!”
“Got it!” Mr. Prince said.
Solo jumped to his knees and dove at Mr. Prince’s legs but was greeted with an elbow to the face. He fell away only to see the two men clasp hands and disappear before his eyes.
A moment later, two men clad in camouflage ran up holding shotguns. “You okay, kid?”
Solo stood. “I think so.” He touched his eye and could feel it starting to swell.
“We saw their guns. Did we scare them off? Where’d they go?”
Solo answered without thinking. “To the future. My time. 2029.” When he looked at their faces, he could see what a mistake he’d made. He realized then and there that he’d never be able to tell anyone the truth about where and when he’d come from or risk ending up in a nut house. “Bad joke. They ran off. Thanks for saving me.”
“What’d they want?”
“I don’t know.” Solo cinched up his pack and picked a direction, west by the look of the afternoon sun and took off walking leaving the two hunters perplexed. He pushed thoughts and memories of Phil and his parents out of his mind. He was done with people. He could count all he needed now on one hand: water, food, shelter. After he had those things, he would find Mr. Prince, somewher
e, somehow.
And, he would kill him.
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