The Watchtower Read online

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  Barb never thought the sensation of traveling through time was as nauseating as people were led to believe. Sure, maybe a little disorientating. She threw up all over her brand new Gucci boots the first time she shunted down someone’s timeline, but that was more from fear than anything else. It was definitely something you got used too.

  She opened her eyes, but kept her hand on the scanner. All around her, people raced past at an unnatural speed. Walking backward and talking like a record in reverse. Rewind in real life. Passengers passed through her like a summer breeze. She could feel their presence as they came in contact with her body. She knew their hopes, their fears, even the darker parts of their soul. All the secrets they kept to themselves. It was intoxicating to have such intimate knowledge of a person with just a touch, and was too easy to lose herself in someone else’s life. She became disheartened. Maybe that’s why she would steal it. Living as someone else was always easier than being herself.

  She focused her mind and the movement around her sped up. Day turned into night, then back into day. The weather changed. A storm rolled over the airport, but nothing about any of the people coming through this terminal looked suspicious. Until a tall, very pale man stepped out of the gate.

  He was holding a large suitcase, but it was the way he was dressed that caught her attention. The designer suit, shoes, even the stylish sunglasses all screamed money, and the more she focused on his attire, the more the world around her began to slow down. With his balding hairline and aging features, he would have been an easy mark for her years ago. Men like that always jumped at the chance to have a beautiful woman on their arm, and she was only too happy to lighten their mood. Not to mention their bank accounts.

  Yet there was something about this one that caused a tingle to race up her spine.

  I don’t like this.

  She shivered. The world around her slowed down to a dead stop. Keeping her hand on the scanner, she stepped closer. Odd he would be wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night. Who did that? She peeked behind them. His eyes were partially closed, but what little she could see were glassy and milk white with a faint hint of colour where the iris should be.

  Crap! This isn’t good.

  She examined him more carefully. Her eyes drifted to the exposed flesh of his chest. There was some discoloration partially hidden by the material. She gently pulled the shirt to one side, and saw the tip of a red scar trail off under his shirt. She took a sniff. There was the slight smell of sulphur as well.

  Definitely not a good sign.

  She looked down at his right hand, extended toward the ticket agent. The passport was open. He was Russian, and definitely connected to the Embassy. If anything, this was enough creepy to warrant checking the building out.

  Running her hand along the metal surface, Barb walked over to the front of the scanner. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Everything began to move forward…