chapter 4

Darcy Freeman gasped as air rushed into her lungs. Her throat hurt, her eyes were stinging, and she had trouble standing up. Trying to regain her balance, she grabbed hold of a nearby bench, rubbed her head hoping these sensations would pass and blinked twice. It was coming back to her. She looked around; nothing had changed. Standing on the corner, she heard the noise of cars and sirens in the distance. Everything was the same as when she had first arrived. December 7^th, 1980.

The words from Alice came to her mind again.

“Begin at the beginning," the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop.”

Begin at the beginning again and go on till the end. That is what she would do. The newspaper vendor was there, the girl in the roller-skates went passed, weaving in and out of the crowd. She had done it.

  One of the things she had learned about the Time Clock, was that it had a reset button. She had seen the designs. If things went badly, you had the ability to go back to the original destination. She did not understand how it worked, but she did know it was limited. Sometimes it worked and other times it failed. When she hacked into the lab’s computers, she noticed how the virtual simulations showed the number of failures. No one had attempted real-life tests, fearing that whoever did would be trapped forever. This had not worried Darcy. She lived in the past anyway. Music, literature, culture. She was born in the wrong era.

Darcy had never intended to steal the device from New Research but stumbled upon the plans for it. She had been working late and went to stretch her legs and to clear her mind. It was the middle of the night and very few people were around. As she walked past closed offices, she overheard two engineers talking. The conversation was mundane. Physics had never been her favorite subject. But as she was about to walk on, they mentioned time travel. Specifically, time manipulation and how the device would work. They had not realized she was there, and her curiosity got the better of her and she lingered longer than she should have.

Darcy Freeman was now back where she had started. But this time it was different. Knowing that people were after her, she would have to be ready to carry on with her plan. Save John Lennon. However, to do that, she had to stop New Research Security. Darcy realized they could track her. More specifically, track the device, pinpoint her exact location and that was going to be a problem. She could not carry it with her, but she could not be without the device either. Darcy knew not to mess with the past. If you drew too much attention to yourself or caused so many changes it could affect the future. Blowing up buildings, killing hundreds of people would affect the future. If she knew that, so did the goons sent to find her. But she did not know where they were or where they would appear. Her only chance was to be ready, and then she might be able to stop them. If Darcy could set the bait, she could get rid of them and send them back to her own time.

Walking around Manhattan, Darcy surveyed the area. People went about their day, wrapped up in winter coats and producing small misty clouds as they exhaled air. She loved the fresh breeze and sucked in a deep breath. It was so refreshing to feel the wind and even though it was cold, she loved the sensation as it blew through her hair. But it sent a shiver throughout her body.   She was wearing her original clothes, futuristic reflective clothing, practical, but not stylish, especially in 1980.  This time she would steal standard denim jeans and a warm coat, more comfortable than the last set of clothes she stole and perhaps warmer.
  Darcy had spent a great deal of time studying the layout of New York at various times during history. She remembered roads, the location of buildings and landmarks.  On the north-west corner of 116th Street & Madison Avenue in Manhattan was the Public National Bank. It was no longer here in the future, but in the past, it was still an active Bank. Darcy had remembered the formidable building from pictures she had looked at and wondered if the Bank would be useful.
  Strolling down 5^th Avenue, Darcy thought about hiding the device in one of the banks safety deposit boxes. It might give her the chance she needed to set the bait but it was not going to be an easy task.

In vaults below ordinary streets are rows of locked containers filled with secrets and treasure. The contents of each is precious to someone. Valuable jewellery or important documents are hiding those secrets. Or papers and photographs with a sentimental value. Darcy had read old stories of the occasional spy stashing a false passport for an emergency getaway.

She turned the corner onto 116^th street and saw the lonely structure housing the bank. It looked old and tired, having attracted dirt to the exterior brickwork and in need of a clean. The Bank was alive and full of people coming and going, some dressed smartly, wearing full jacket and tie, carrying briefcases of varying sizes. Others were dressed casually, like Darcy or more relaxed, in shocking colours and similarly shocking hair.
  She was now dressed in black denim, her journal and the device tucked neatly into the back pockets and a warm wooly overcoat. A small market stall displayed the items and Darcy had expertly taking the clothing off the stall without anyone noticing.
  She now stood outside and thought about what to do. An uneasy feeling came over her. She realized she was not equipped to take on two men from the future. What did Darcy Freeman know about fighting? Her days were spent sitting at a desk, staring at monitors. The only thing on her side were her brains. Her job called for accuracy, noticing the details, remembering facts and being able to process lots of information quickly. She had been perfect at it, spending hours each day, virtually manipulating time, remembering every detail and processing facts. She never thought she would have to put those skills to the test.

Darcy walked up the stone steps and entered the Bank to be greeted by a security guard.
  ‘Afternoon, Miss,’ he said politely. ‘How can we help you today?’
There was not much he could help her with, unless he knew how to freeze time and blast two armed men into oblivion. She smiled to herself before replying.
  ‘Hi,’ was all she could say, before casually walking toward the information desk.

The man behind the desk was a big beefy man with hardly any hair, although he did have an exceptionally large mustache, which made Darcy smile. Her appearance was thin and she had nearly twice the amount of black hair growing down to her shoulders, which came in extremely useful for different hairstyles. He grinned at her and his thin mouth formed a smiled behind his mustache.
  ‘Howdy Miss,’ was all he said as he eyed her up and down. If Darcy had to guess, she would say he was in his fifties, although the lack of hair and greasy mustache made him look older. He stared at her, which creeped Darcy out. But she put on the charm.
  ‘Howdy to you,’ she replied with a giggle. ‘I’m interested in a safety deposit box, but I know absolutely nothing about it.’ She played the dumb girl very well and kept giggling all the way through as she sat down,
  ‘Well there Missy. You’ve come to the right place. Do you have an account here?’
She eyeballed the name on his desk as he spoke. Phill McIntosh. He had two ‘ll’s’ in his first name. Was he making a statement?
  ‘I don’t think so?’ She paused, hoping that her naivety would come across. ‘You see, I’m not very good with numbers and don’t really visit banks.’
Phill looked at her while stroking his mustache.
  ‘Ok. That’s no problem. I can help you.’ He leaned in close from across the desk and instantly the smell of tuna hit Darcy in the face. This guy must like it a lot.
  ‘Oh! That’s so kind of you,’ was all she could think to say.
  ‘First thing. Do you have any I.D?’
This was going to be a problem. Even if she did, Darcy Freeman did not exist yet. She smiled cheekily at him.
  ‘Silly me. I’ve left everything at home. I didn’t think it was important.’ She giggled again, trying to stop herself from being physically sick.
  He smiled.
  She smiled back. Phill looked at her for what seemed like an eternity. Her instinct told her to get up and leave, but Darcy held her cool.
  ‘Well, well. There’s not much I can do without I.D. I need to set up an account before giving you a box.’
  ‘I’m so stupid.’ Darcy buried her hands in her face, trying to act all sad, as if she would burst into tears at any moment.
  ‘Now!’ Phill stretched over and placed a clammy hand on top of hers. ‘No need to think that. Let me see what I can do.’ He stood up sliding his damp fingers across hers. She was going to be sick.

Phill had left, leaving Darcy feeling slightly nauseated, but he was off to see what he could do. She looked around the bank, watching the tellers from behind the glass and people coming and going. Benjamin Franklin had once said, ‘Remember that time is money’. Watching the activity around the bank, it seemed money was all that mattered and not a moment should be wasted.   Her thoughts quickly came back to the plan. More importantly, had the security thugs arrived to stop her. She hoped Phill could help. Darcy could hide the device in the safety deposit box and wait. ‘Was that It? Doesn’t seem a particularly good plan’.

Phill had returned with his grimy mustache and moist hands. He was holding papers in his hand.
  ‘You’re in luck Missy.’ He slid the papers across the desk toward her.
  ‘I spoke to the bosses and they agreed to let you have one, but you are gonna have to provide some details about yourself.’
Darcy picked up the paperwork and scanned down the form. Name, address. Profession. Reasons for use.  She looked at Phill, with a big smile. He had no idea.
  ‘That’s so nice of you Phill.’ As she said his name his mustache lifted as he formed a creepy smile. He passed her the pen.
Of course, Darcy lied when filling out the form. She had always seen herself as Paige, Paige Wilde. This was a wild plan. At present she lied about living at Harry’s place and used that address as her own. Hopefully, he had never been there. Profession? She hesitated for a moment and Phill noticed.
  ‘Don’t worry if you’re unemployed, just put that down,’ he said to her.
Darcy did not look up, she put down Nurse. Why Nurse, she was not sure? But Paige Wilde was a great nurse. Her reasons? Catch guys from the future who wanted to kill her as she was a time travelling thief. But Phill did not look like he could handle that. So, she put, ‘store family heirloom.’
She slid the paperwork back after signing her name. Phill looked it over and stood up.

‘Ok, Miss Wilde. Follow me.’

Darcy obediently got up, following Phill as he walked towards the stairs. She had better come up with a better plan than just wait.

Four blocks away, a light appeared down an alley like the one Darcy created when she arrived in 1980. A blinding light struck the ground, generating an orange energy field. For two seconds, bins rattled, rubbish flew away in the gust and as quickly as it arrived, the light and energy field were gone. The two security men were back, also starting at the beginning and tracking Darcy.