BEYOND TIME

Found You Again

Shannon

The smell of acrid smoke and things burning all around her. The sound of hungry flames destroying her whole world.

She drew in rasping breaths, fighting to live.

With an effort, she opened her eyes as wide as she could. She was lying on the floor, pinned under a log of wood. She tried pushing it away; it didn’t budge. She eased herself out sideways and pushed again. This time the log moved. With all of her strength, she gave one heave and pushed the log, rolling away in the opposite direction simultaneously.

Just in time.

The beams supporting the ceiling had succumbed to the fire. She was right in the path of the falling beams. Rolling away bought her the few feet that saved her life that day. She scrambled out through the doorway on her knees.

She found herself kneeling on fresh white snow, breathing in the sweet scent of pines and cold air as she pulled herself up off the ground. As she stood, her feet faltering, her eyes took in the scene in front of her.

What she saw made her blink in surprise.

Ranges of snow-capped mountains spread out across the horizon, towering high above pine trees. The sky was a deep, mesmerizing blue. She was at the foothills of some mighty beautiful mountains. Behind her, a log cabin burned merrily away in the middle of a snow-covered clearing.

This was not her world.

Her tiny, but decent apartment in New York City was broken into when she was supposed to have been at work today. Except she had returned early. One of the burglars had hit her head with something hard. She had blacked out. The next thing she remembered was opening her eyes to fire and smoke; the sheer terror of realizing that her home was being burned to the ground, and she with it. Then she had felt the prick of a needle on her neck. The world went black again.

This wasn’t New York City.

She felt her head expecting to find a huge bump. There was nothing.

She turned to look at the cabin again.

The door of the burning cabin hung wide open.

“Strange,” she thought.

She half-walked, half-climbed up the gently rolling foothills, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the burning cabin.

When she had covered a mile, and still saw no sign of any life anywhere around her except a couple of birds chirping in the trees, she stopped. She leaned against the trunk of a tree and allowed herself to slowly collapse to the ground. She propped her back against the trunk and stared up into the towering pines all around her; at the snow-covered mountains. She looked at her boots. She didn’t recognize them. She had never owned hiking boots. These were new. She looked at her clothes. Undamaged and comfortable. Trendy. Nice bomber jacket, she thought, "Just what I like." Her clothes didn’t look like she had just survived a near-fatal fire, except for some smudges of soot and mud.

As she tried to remember, she realized that there was only one thing her mind kept going back to. Her apartment at New York City. The burglary. The fire. And then this cabin. She remembered nothing else.

Not even her name!

Terror gripped her as she realized that she didn't know who she was. Frantically, she started checking her clothes for pockets and emptying everything she found in them. A sheathed knife, a key, a red bandana, a stone. And nothing else. No purse or wallet, no phone. No identification at all.

Her pulse accelerated, her breaths came faster. Tears formed in her eyes as she realized that she knew nothing about who she was, where she was, or why she was here. She rubbed them off fiercely and scanned her surroundings purposefully.

“Shannon!” said a voice. Firm, deep, calm. A male voice.

Startled, she turned, her eyes frantically trying to locate the source of the voice.

There was no one.

“Shannon!” said the voice again. “I can communicate with you. Through your mind. I will help you through this. You need to trust me.”

Now convinced that she was having a particularly horrifying nightmare; she drew in several deep, calming breaths.

Then she focused her mind on the questions she needed answers to.

“Who are you? Who am I? Where am I? Tell me. Now.”

“Easy there, Shannon,” said the voice. “You have just been through a shock. You’ll remember everything soon; don’t worry. Find Leah.”

“Who the hell is Leah?”

Derek

The lights of the hospital corridor sped by over him as he wheezed, coughing up more blood. He probably wasn’t going to make it. He closed his eyes.

“Keep your eyes open!” a voice said urgently into his ears.

But it was way too much effort.

The voice kept speaking urgently into his ears. He couldn’t make out what it was saying. He didn’t feel like listening anymore.

The voice faded way. Everything else faded with it. Blissful darkness.

“Derek.”

“Ugh.”

“Derek,” said the voice again. A calm, firm, male voice.

He groggily opened his eyes. The ceiling was wooden. Sunlight streamed into the room from a window beside him. He propped himself up on an elbow, surprised by the ease with which he was able to do so. Testing his muscles, he sat up on the bed and dropped his feet to the floor. The floor was wooden and polished. Clean. He stood up and walked to the window easily, breathing in the fresh cold air.

The sight that greeted him took his breath away. Ranges of snow-capped mountains towered high above the pine trees; the sky a deep, lovely blue. He took in a deep breath, relishing the air as it filled his lungs.

“If this is heaven, it’s mighty good,” he thought to himself.

He turned, expecting to see the owner of the voice in the room with him. Instead, he saw the huge bed that he had recently occupied, a wardrobe, and two closed doors. He opened one and found that was a bathroom. He opened the other door. And stepped right out on to cold, fresh snow that crunched under his feet. Looking down, he saw he was wearing hiking boots.

From the outside, the cabin looked modest and tiny. A one-room affair.

Questions began whizzing through his mind. He looked at his clothes. They were clean and fresh. He liked the bomber jacket he was wearing. He was about to check his pockets when the voice spoke again.

“Derek."

Startled at feeling it so close, he turned, scanning his surroundings.

“Take it easy, Derek. You’ll remember everything soon. You’ve just been through a shock.”

“Who are you? Where are you hiding?”

A soft laugh. “In your mind.”

A chill went through his heart.

The voice continued, “I can communicate with you Derek. Through your mind.”

“Find Leah.”

“Who the hell is Leah?”

The Map

Cursing under her breath, Shannon trudged up the slope. In response to her question about Leah, she had received a series of fleeting images in her mind. A muddy path leading up the mountain slope. A clearing. A small wooden cottage with white curtains on the window. Smoke coming out of the chimney.

“No face? Great.”

“And no road either,” she muttered.

She had taken one last look at the path she had just covered, found a firm stick on the ground and used it as a support to climb up the slope. About a mile later, she came across the clearing she had seen in her vision. She stopped to catch her breath.

The cottage looked exactly as the one in her vision.

She saw the white curtains of the window rustle in the wind. The smoke rising from the chimney.

She stood rooted to the spot.

“Hey! Are you Leah?”

The voice was so close to her ear that she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Whoa, easy!” said the owner of the voice, “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Shannon stared up at him. He was a good foot taller than her, lean and well built. Sparkling gray eyes, dark hair; an easy charming smile lit up his eyes.

She relaxed her stance, only then noticing that she had her fists balled up ready to punch someone.

“Sorry,” she held up a placatory hand, “I’ve just been through a weird lot. Why are you looking for Leah? Who are you?”

Derek did not answer. She was beautiful. And intelligent. Drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes took in her slender form, the green eyes that looked wary under lovely, arched brows; her long, gleaming, straight, honey-colored hair.

“Who are you?” his voice came out strangled between a sigh and a groan.

“I’m Shannon,” she said, after a beat. “And you are?”

“Derek.”

She waited expectantly.

“That is all I remember.” He smiled.

He got the satisfaction of seeing her jaw drop. Just a little. Before she recovered herself, and carefully admitted, “I can’t remember anything either. What is all this?”

“Let’s find out.” Derek purposefully began walking toward the cabin.

When she didn’t follow, he turned and c****d his head at her, “Not coming?”

Shannon shook her head as if to clear it. “What do you expect to find in there?” she asked.

“Leah.”

“And how do you know she is gonna be in there?” she said this so slowly that Derek frowned.

“Because I saw you in my vision. And I saw this whole setting. If you’re not Leah, you’re important in some way, and Leah must be in that cottage.”

Fascinated, Derek gazed as her mouth formed a round O but no words came out.

“Vision,” said Shannon finally.

“Why do you trust your vision?” she asked.

“Because I don’t have anything else to go on right now. I don’t have any memories except of being on a hospital bed and then I woke up in a wooden cabin further along that way,” he pointed East.

“A voice spoke in my head, showed me this place and you; and since you don’t seem to have met Leah yet and you seem so wary and guarded, it’s a safe bet that the voice sent you here. Now, I’d love to stop and get to know everything about how you got here but I think we should find Leah first and catch up on the way. So, shall we?”

Shannon didn’t move, “Honestly, I’d feel much better if we first exchanged stories and understood who we are in this whole scenario...Is that all you have to tell me?”

“Well…yes. That’s about it. I’ve given you my story. So now you tell me yours.”

“It’s almost the same as yours, except, I was in a burning cabin. The door was conveniently open. So I rolled out. Someone must have been monitoring me. I wasn’t as close to death as I was made to believe. I remember being in New York City, a tiny but decent apartment. It was mine. And then there were burglars. I got hit on my head, but there’s no bump. And…”

“And?” asked Derek.

“And…I just realized that someone must have done a memory wipe on me. That’s why I don’t remember anything except that last burglary attempt. Someone pricked my neck with a needle. My apartment was burnt down and I was brought here. Into this burning log cabin. I woke up here. Someone didn’t intend for me to die; that’s why I am still alive.”

“But why is there no bump on my head?” she said aloud fingering her head again, looking for any sign of a wound. There was none. Not even a residual ache.

“This is not a dream,” she continued. “How do you know your name? I didn’t remember mine.”

“Well,” said Derek, “I don’t know what is real and what is not. That voice said my name is Derek, so I went with it. This just feels like some sort of weird game show to me…except for the memory wipe. I wonder what that was for. Someone badly wanted our memories out of the way, Shannon.”

“Well, Derek, no one would need to wipe our memories clean unless they wanted to achieve a very specific purpose by doing so.”

“True. In which case, we need to find out the reason.”

Derek turned and took a step toward the cottage, and then slowly turned to face Shannon.

“What is the date today?”

“No way of knowing Derek,” she confirmed his worst suspicion.

“Memory wipes should take time, logically,” she went on, “So I think, there’s a significant gap between the last memories we have and today. Days…maybe months even.”

“That would explain why I was coughing up blood and thinking I wouldn’t make it; but eventually did,” said Derek. “Besides, whoever is in our heads is likely listening to every word we say, every thought we think. Someone felt that was necessary. It is spooky to have someone inside your head. For now, our best bet is to find Leah. I had this strange, weird feeling of urgency, I don't know why. I've been on my feet ever since I woke up this morning. That is easing away now. A bit."

“We need to watch our thoughts, don’t we?” smiled Derek.

“Of course we do,” Shannon smiled right back.

“Let’s find Leah. Whoever she is.”

They walked softly together to the cottage, each taking care to make as little noise as possible. Shannon peered in through the window as Derek knocked. Nothing stirred inside the cottage.

“Shannon?" said Derek in a low voice, "The door is open.” 

Derek gestured at her to follow him.

They entered a comfortable drawing room.

The décor was cozy; all the emphasis seemed to be on comfort and tidiness. Sunlight spilled in through the windows of a kitchen that lay straight ahead. A door on the right opened into a bedroom. It looked exactly the same as the bed Derek had woken up in. Surprised, Derek looked at the rest of the bedroom. It looked similar to the cabin he had so recently occupied, with minor differences. Someone was going to a lot of bother with tiny details, he thought.

He left the door open and went back to the kitchen. Shannon was examining closely what looked like a coffee jar. There was a pot of water on a gas stove; both looked distinctly unwestern.

Shannon held the coffee jar out for Derek to see. “Bru Instant Coffee.”

“I think this is India. We are somewhere in the Himalayas, Derek. Just when I think nothing can surprise me anymore, I realize this…and I have never been here; or maybe I have, I don’t know.”

Derek moved to place a hand on her shoulder, “Don’t worry Shannon. We will get through this and it will all be alright soon.”

“You find anything in the bedroom?” she asked.

“It looked eerily similar to the one I woke up in a couple of hours ago. The rest of the house looks squeaky clean. No photos anywhere, no trophies. I will just nip back in to see if I can find anything under the bed.” He smiled a reassuring smile.

“I’m making some instant coffee. No promises on how this will turn out. I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Cool.”

Derek began a methodical inspection of the bedroom. He opened the drawers. There was nothing there except a few towels. No diaries. No memorabilia. No cosmetics, no wallet, no watches. Nothing. He next turned his attention to the wardrobe. He tried opening the door but it appeared to be locked.

“Anything?” asked Shannon, as she came in and handed him a cup of black coffee.

“Drawers are empty. Nothing under the bed or the mattress. Squeaky clean like it has all just been brought and arranged here. Like some sort of a set. The wardrobe is locked though, and I can’t find a key.”

Shannon frowned and patted her trousers. She pulled out a key from her pocket and held it up.

“Let me see if this fits.”

Shannon placed her coffee mug on the bed side drawer and inserted the key into the lock. The door unlocked with one twist of the key.

“This was very convenient,” she frowned.

She pulled the door open, gingerly expecting a skeleton to pop out and fall on her. Instead, she saw stacks of neatly arranged clothes. Hiking gear, packed food cans, water bottles, everything she would ever need to go on a long, cold trek. She pulled out a wind cheater. It looked to be about her size. Surprised, she held it up for Derek.

"My size."

“This wardrobe has two doors, and the other one is locked as well.” Shannon tried to unlock the other door with her key, unsuccessfully.

“Derek, do you have a key in any of your pockets?”

Derek patted his bomber jacket. His face creased with surprise as he felt something in the inner pocket of his bomber jacket. He pulled out a key. And photographs.

One was of him and Shannon posing for the camera, their heads touching; huge smiles on both their faces. They were dressed in the same bomber jackets they now wore. The other was the photograph of a painting, showing a beautiful young native American woman smiling. Her hair was lit up by sunshine, she wore exotic beads over her clothes. Her eyes were gray and twinkling, and seemed so lifelike that Derek couldn't take his eyes away from them. The artist had done an excellent job in capturing her beauty and verve. He felt his head spin a little. Derek turned the photo over. There was just one word inked in elegant writing. 

Leah.

Quietly, Derek handed over both photographs to Shannon, who gaped at the photo of her with Derek. 

"We were together before..."

He turned his key in the lock. The door opened effortlessly. There was more hiking gear, clothes his size and preference, and camping gear.

There was a small drawer on this side of the cupboard. He pulled it open to reveal a folded map. He took it out and spread it on the bed. It looked to be a map of the mountains. A route was highlighted with a red line across the mountains, with Xs marked at some points along the route. On the bottom of the map, there were three points in a triangle, close together. They were marked, S, D, and L.

“Shannon, Derek, and Leah,” said Shannon.

“Well, Shannon,” Derek said, his face betraying his nervousness, “looks like we are going on a hike across the Himalayas.”

“You think Leah knows who we are Derek?”

“Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. We don’t remember each other, but if this photograph is undoctored, we have been together before.”

“I don’t see any guns there, and I’ve got just this little knife,” said Shannon, pulling the knife out of her pocket, “so I guess, we can take a hike.”

"Anything else in your pockets Derek?" she asked mischieviously.

Her smile was infectious. Derek found himself smiling too.

He patted his pockets just to be sure, "Don't think so, Shannon."

Then she asked, “Derek, when we were standing outside, there was smoke coming out of the chimney. The fireplace was clean. Where was that smoke coming from?”

"Someone was here just before us."

Quietly, they both walked back into the kitchen, and began a methodical scan.

“Here,” said Shannon, pulling out a dustbin from a tiny closet under the set of drawers. The charred remains of thick paper lay in the dustbin. There was one half-burnt sheet of thick paper. Shannon dusted the soot off it and held it up.

It was part of a map of the Himalayan range showing a red line and one X. Derek took the piece of paper from her and examined it closely.

He smelled it, “This was burnt very recently. So…why would someone burn up these maps and then put them in a dustbin? Why not leave them in the fireplace?”

Shannon rummaged around in the dustbin to see if she could uncover anything else, but she came up only with soot and ashes.

“Maybe they didn’t mean for us to notice the smoke. Or if they did, maybe not this dustbin.”

Derek peered at the map thoughtfully, “If they really knew us, they probably expected us to find all of this, and this is part of the puzzle.”

“Who were we Derek?” Shannon’s voice was low, brooding.

“Spies?” said Derek, laughter in his voice.

Shannon smiled, “You might be right, Derek. I guess we will find out. So what’s our plan for tonight?”

As if on cue, her stomach rumbled.

“Food!” they both said together, laughing.

“Let’s fix the food first,” said Derek, “then let’s take a look at the map and see what the difference is between these two. Maybe that’ll clue us in to what we are dealing with here.”

“Good plan,” said Shannon.

In an hour, they were poring over the maps together as they finished off the remains of a delicious pizza and some salad.

“Anything ring a bell, Shannon?”

“No, none of this is familiar. I guess I would be a little nervous, but your presence makes all this feel manageable somehow.”

“Same here.”

Derek sighed.

"The routes on both maps are different," said Shannon, "I wonder how many maps and how many routes were burnt up before they left the last one for us to find."

"And why..."

“This route is not for the faint hearted, Shannon. This is deep in the Himalayas. I doubt we will encounter any fellow hikers. Judging by the time we ended up at this cottage, we are supposed to start this trek early tomorrow morning. It is a long trek. These Xs must be the resting points. I guess we have to hit at least one X each day.”

“There are 8 Xs, Derek. We are looking at a minimum of 8 days?”

“Or more. The Xs are not exactly equidistant.”

“Let’s pack up, so we can start early tomorrow. What time are we looking at?”

“First light. No oxygen tanks anywhere.”

“Then we likely won’t need them until we hit the first X.”

“Likely.”

“Take the bed, Derek. I’ll sleep out here on the couch.”

“Generous of you, thank you, Shannon. But I am a couch person. Beds don’t work for me.”

“Really?”

“Really!” said Derek, mimicking her tone.

Shannon laughed. “Alright.”

“So…we finish packing our things and get some shut eye…” said Shannon.

“Yes…”

“Thank you Derek,”

“You’re welcome Shannon.”

“Always.” Derek added under his breath.