Time Raiders: The Avenger

“Sweetheart, you’ve been out like a light for the better part of two hours!” boomed Mr. Meyers, a retired butcher from Tulsa.

“Oh, Frank, leave the girl alone. I was just thinkin’ how tired she looked while we was hiking up here.” Mrs. Meyers, who insisted Alex call her Trixi, patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We all need our beauty sleep.”

“Okay, well, are we ready to head back?” Alex said, wishing she could crawl under the nearest rock.

“Yep, sure are! And I’ll bet you can set a quicker pace than you did on the way here, after that nap you took!” Mr. Meyers chuckled and slapped Alex on the back.

Thankfully, none of the tourists were staying the night, so Alex’s duties were done after she deposited the group in the prairie gift shop. Still feeling out of sorts after the weird repeated dream, she decided to indulge herself in one of her favorite pastimes—watching old BBC Masterpiece Theatre specials on her widescreen iMac. She’d popped some extra-buttery popcorn, poured a huge glass of iced tea—no wine today!—opened her new Netflix envelope and was just getting ready to pop disc one of The House of Elliott into her computer when the screen bleeped, telling her she had a new e-mail. Without really thinking about it, Alex clicked on the logo and saw that the new mail was from ACarswell@flagstaff.net.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding,” she muttered at the screen. With an annoyed jab, she clicked on the e-mail.

There was one line, which read: If you want to find out more about this, come to Flagstaff. It was signed A. C.

Alex glanced up at the address block and saw that there was an attachment. She almost didn’t click into it. What could Carswell possibly send her that she’d want to learn more about? But, grudgingly, Alex had to admit she was curious. She clinked into the attachment.

The symbol that filled the screen had her breath catching in her throat.

It was the sapphire S design from her dream.

Chapter 4

It took her too damn long to dig around in her address book and find the number to the Project Anasazi headquarters Tessa had given her months ago, when she’d first tried to talk her into joining Carswell’s team. Alex wasn’t at all surprised when the professor answered the phone herself.

“Where did you get that design?” Alex asked without any preamble.

“Alex, it’s good of you to call,” said the professor smoothly.

“Where did you get that design?” she stubbornly repeated.

“As I explained in the e-mail, if you want to know more about the symbol you’ll have to come to Flagstaff.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“Nevertheless, that is the deal.”

Alex drew a deep breath and got a handle on her temper before she spoke again. Then, in short clipped sentences, she said, “I do not know why you’re doing this. I will not join the project. My answer there will be the same as my answer here.”

“I’m doing this because we need you. The world needs you, Alex.”

“That’s just more bullshit! The world? I can’t save the world. Find someone else—someone who’s more like Tessa.”

“It’s you we need for this particular mission.” When Alex didn’t respond, Professor Carswell continued softly, “The symbol is important to you. I can tell you that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Alex could hear the smile in her voice. “Because you’re not the only freak around.”

Alex snorted.

“Come to Flagstaff. It’ll change your life,” said Professor Carswell.

“I don’t want my life changed,” Alex insisted.

“Don’t you?”

There was a long silence on the line and then Alex heard herself saying, “Is that ticket still at Tulsa International?”

“What’s woad?” Alex asked Professor Carswell. She was sitting across from the professor in her office at the Time Raiders headquarters in Flagstaff, staring at a beautiful sketch of the S design the professor had scanned into the computer and sent to her. Only this original had been drawn on the outline of a human face. The face didn’t have any detail—it was just a frame for the swirling S pattern that spread from the man’s forehead and cheekbones, down to the side of his neck and even onto his torso.

Alex thought she’d never seen anything so exotic, beautiful or compelling.

“Woad is a powerful tattoo that ancient Celtic warriors used to adorn their bodies.”

“That’s an ancient tattoo?” Alex continued to stare at the design as if she was trying to see the man behind it.

“Well, there is a rather boring academic debate about whether the Celts actually tattooed the images on their bodies, or whether they were painted on. This particular image once adorned the body of a Celt who was a druid and a warrior. He lived about AD 60 in Briton. I’m sure about all of that, but I’m not certain if these designs were painted or tattooed on his body.”

“I don’t understand. How do you know all of this, and what does it have to do with me?”

“What does this have to do with you?” asked General Ashton, who’d chosen that moment to join them in Carswell’s office.

“You tell me. I thought that’s why I flew down here.”

“Why does this particular carrot dangle so enticingly for you that it did get you down here?” the general asked.

“Alex, I know this design is connected to you,” Professor Carswell said gently.

Ignoring the general, Alex spoke to the professor. “I’ve seen it in my dreams. I think the man who’s wearing this design is calling to me.”

“He’s asking you to come to him?” Professor Carswell leaned forward, literally on the edge of her seat, waiting for Alex’s answer.

“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly.

The professor nodded slowly. “Then it is you who must go on this mission. Alex, I’ve located the next piece of the medallion. I can tell that it is hidden in AD 60 Briton. I can also tell that it is tied to the Celtic warrior queen Boudica. The only other detail I know for sure about the placement of the medallion is that this particular piece in our puzzle is surrounded by death. It’s almost as if the dead have paved a path to the hidden piece. They know where it is. I do not.”

“So you see, Alex, we need someone on this mission who can speak to the dead,” General Ashton finished for her.

“Oh, no!” Alex was shaking her head. “Look, I haven’t even been away from the tallgrass prairie for a full day and already I’m sick and tired of seeing ghost after ghost swarming everywhere.” It gave her a twisted sense of pleasure that the professor and the general both glanced nervously around in response to her words. “Don’t worry about it—you can’t see them. Anyway, they don’t seem to like this building. There aren’t any in here. But here’s the deal—I know Tessa told you about my thing, and I understand why she did. Tessa’s all about being a team player. I’m not. I’m out of the air force. The whole thing…” she paused and gestured vaguely around her “…this whole thing is just too much for me. Yeah, I’m curious about the man in my dreams, but you guys are telling me he lived a zillion years ago, so that really doesn’t have anything to do with me today. I just want to go back home—to my quiet job—to a world where I can actually get some damn rest and not be driven out of my mind. Besides all that—in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not particularly into the military mind-set of do-what-you’re-told-and-shut-up anymore. Sorry I’ve wasted your time and mine.” Alex started to stand up.

“Sit down, Sergeant.” General Ashton didn’t raise her voice, but the tone of command in it had Alex sitting back down before she even registered the fact that she’d complied.

“You’re a blunt woman, so I’m going to be equally as blunt with you. This isn’t about some dream man. This isn’t about you getting your rest. This is about finding the twelve pieces of the medallion, which once reassembled, will stop a race of creatures who have been subjugating women for thousands of years. We are their only challengers, and they will unmake us in order to keep their power. This is about saving your daughters’ daughters and all those women who come after them. Suck it up, Sergeant. Stop whining. You can sleep when you’re dead.”

Alex met the general’s sharp gaze. The officer was obviously pissed at her, but that didn’t bother Alex at all. Actually, it was like a sweet walk down memory lane—she’d kinda liked pissing off officers. The truth was Alex respected that the general had finally given her the bottom line and stopped dancing around the damn bush. “These creatures, they’re really as bad as all that?”

“The Centauri will wipe out human females before they allow us to join the free galactic community.”

“I’m not a hero, General. I’m just a woman who hears the dead. And if I’m not buffered by the tallgrass prairie, that usually stresses me out so badly I can barely think.”