how long do you think you'd survive in a zombie apocalypse?
November 22, 1963
Emery Lamont was in trouble. Well, 'trouble' wasn't necessarily the right word. It was more like a small mishap in the plan in which he had fumbled over a small rock and landed it in the bottom of the ocean. Only he was the rock and the ocean was the Handlers office.
Said woman tented the tips of her fingers together and gave a mighty sigh. They had been at this for twenty minutes already and had gotten nowhere. Emery didn't even know the woman; hadn't even known she existed up until this afternoon but already he wanted never to see her again.
"Emery," She began. "You cannot be messing with the space-time continuum. But if you keep doing so," She brought her hands down and delicately folded them on her lap out of sight. "-i'd have no choice but to... eliminate you." She shrugged as if his death would evoke sorrow and smile.
Emery smiled right back though it was created from nothing but loathing distaste. "I'm sure." He said sarcastically. "And because I know just how much you would love to do so, I have places to be." He stood, pushing the chair away. "This was a lovely meeting, Ma'am, thank you so very much for taking precious time out of your day to talk to me about my civic responsibilities and the obligations I have to this cherished world." His smile dropped and the humor seeped out of his words in an instant. "I'll see myself out now."
"Emery, Emery, Emery." The Handler tsked as Emery tried the doorhandle, rattling the thing when it only budged a hair's breadth. Locked. "We can't just let you leave after you disrupted the timeline." The woman said, coming up behind him. Emergy did not turn around. "No, what you have done has to be fixed for the sake of the better world. And in order to do that, your death must take place so everything can go back to normal. You are an anamoly, Emery. I hope you can understand-" The Handler placed a bony cold hand on his shoulder. "-it's nothing personal." She breathed.
"Oh, it's personal." Emery muttered under his breath as he twisted around and ducked under the womans arm, jumping over the ladies desk when she tried lunging after him. Papers flew from beneath him as he kicked off the desk and flew to the other side of the room, using the walls as leverage as he nearly collided with them, using them to push off again and avoid the Handlers advances.
"Emery." The Handler said though it lacked the severiarity of poisonous kindness when she had spoken his name all those other times. "It's useless." She jutted her head and spread her arms wide. "Give up. Trust me, you'll be in better hands if you go willingly. If not, I'll have no choice but to bring in backup."
"What?" Emery panted as he took the moment to survey the room. "Too scared to come after me yourself? Or was that the best you got? Come on, don't say you're holding out on me." He said, jumping on the balls of his feet as his mind went into overdrive. Truth be told, he didn't know the full extent of what the Handler was capable of but that didn't mean he wanted to find out.
He jumped into action then, dancing around the Handler and hiking his foot up on the desk as he pushed himself up towards the ceiling. Here, he managed to get the edges of the vent covering under his finger. One screw fell loose immediately and Emery grunted as his weight shifted. His fingertips strained and he grit his teeth as he fought to keep a hold.
"Come on down, Emery." The Handler said in a bored tone. One look down and Emery could see the woman had given up playing games and was now reaching into her coat. Drawing out a Colt pistol and levelling it at his head. A shot rang out and Emery almost lot his gripping as he struggled to hold on and wedge the rest of the corners from their screws. "That was a warning. Next time, I won't be so reasonable." He heard the Handler say.
"Reasonable my ass." Emergy grumbled out as he kicked her square in the chest when she advanced. Using the momentum, Emery swung up and held on to the vent covering with one hand while the other worked to unscrew one of the other screws. He worked quickly, knowing full well that his other hand was getting sweaty and could slip at any time. "Come on, come on." He said, working double-time as the Handler advanced once more, sauntering but determined. Out of his peripheral, Emergy could see her raise the pistol one more time. He cursed in his head and gave one last twist of the screw before he dropped down into a crouch and covered his head. A shot rang out and then another followed by the sound of metal clanging to the ground.
Emery peeked his head up. "Thanks." He said when he noticed the vent covering had been blown away. He jumped up one more time and muscled himself up into the vent in record time, narrowly avoiding the vice grip the Handler had coming for him and only just missing the promise of death when bullets started ringing out from behind him. He hissed when one lucky bullet snagged his pant leg and ripped through skin but forced himself to keep moving as more shots followed.
It was only when he was safely in the walls of the building did he stop and wait. Twisting around and pressing an ear to the metal, he craned his mind to listen in for any sounds telling him where the woman had gone. A door slammed and then the sound of heels clamping onto the ground and then Emery was inching forward until he reached one of the holes in the vent created courtesy of the Handler.
The office below him was empty.
The sound of him landing was silent.
The sound of the window opening and closing was comparable to that of the rustling of sheets.
And the blades of dying grass beneath Emery's feet were more welcoming than the cool metal of the vent.
And then he was sprinting, pumping his legs beneath him as he moved towards civilization.
Two burnt orange buildings with curved multitudes of windows greeted him as he got closer, ducking behind an abandoned ledge that concealed him.
Doing his best to regain his breath and quieten his painting, Emery looked around, trying to figure out the next course of action. He wasn't supposed to be here, that much he knew. And because of that, he also didn't know the ins and outs of this place which served as a clear disadvantage.
Just then he noticed an entourage of vehicles pull around the bend in a motorcade. JFK's motorcade. And then some people started showing up, pulling along their family members to wave on the president, oblivious to the fact that he was going to get assassinated any minute now. Emery cursed, he hadn't been 100% sure what year he had ended up in nor the exact date but he sure as hell knew now.
His eyes searched around for the infamous Lee Harvey Oswald along the perimeter, nearly giving up hope until he spotted the barest glimpse of a rifle head. He started to move forward and then stilled. What was he doing? He knew he couldn't alter the events of the past, especially something so trivial but there was a small voice in the back of his head urging him onwards to see if it really was Oswald behind the gun. Besides, what else was he going to do?
Creeping forward, Emery kept out of sight and moved inconspicuously until he was safely tucked away behind the wall of an adjacent building. Peeking his head around, he was surprised to find an older fellow crouched down behind a table haphazardly balancing the weapon on his shoulder while his unoccupied hand wrote out letters and numbers in a long string of equations. The man's hand moved quickly as he muttered under his breath, crossing things out here and there and urging himself to think, think, think! And then he dropped the rifle and pumped a fist in the air with excitement.
Emery's eyebrows drew together as he cautiously stepped forward.
"Hey." He said. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. "Who are you?" He asked, steps getting faster when he saw the old man curse and start fumbling through last-minute touches on the equation. "Hey!" Emery raised his voice when he caught a glimpse of the Handlers minions rounding the bend. He stepped forward as a dull vibration spread through the ground and blue light started to form around the man, almost sucking him in. "What are you-" he stepped forward, grabbing onto the man's forearm at the last second. And then in the next, he was both everywhere and nowhere. The feeling was a familiar one but completely unfamiliar at the same time it was almost eerie. But before he could even think about what was going on or how it was happening, there was ground beneath his feet and he was stumbling forward.
"What did you do." Someone growled out.
There, before him, was a boy donning a glare, an accusing finger, and dressed in overly sized clothes— the same clothes the old man was wearing just moments ago.
'Moments', Emery would later find out, was not in fact the right word for it. 'Years' would be better suited for the trouble he had ended up in where he was the rock and the ocean was a completely different era that may only be alive for the next few days.
Shit.
Short first chapter. Considered making this a prologue but then decided that chapter lengths are going to fluctuate based on the occurring events. Anyways, first thoughts?