Read Online Shift (ChronoShift Trilogy) by Zack Mason - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Zack Mason
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how could he? Impossible.
He kept moving, circling back to the approximate place he'd left his horse in 1890. When Kelly came out of the bathroom, she’d just think he’d gone on to work.
***
September 16 th , 1890 – Lawrenceville, GA
The next step would be tricky to accurately guess. He needed to gauge the distance well so he wouldn’t pop up in the wrong place. He walked southeast, away from the county courthouse in the town square, down Clayton Street until he reached the old female seminary building, though it wasn’t so old right now. That was one landmark he knew wouldn't change over the next century and it was right across the street from his target in the future. Now, he had to imagine the modern scene in his mind to see how far he needed to walk
Doing some major guesstimations in his head, Mark decided to walk another four hundred paces angled 30 degrees to the left of the Seminary building. The father and mother of a family passing by shot him a funny look as he wandered across the street into the yards of some homes there. He knew he looked suspicious, yet it couldn’t be helped.
The surrounding field looked nothing like it would in the future, but it had to be the same place. It was the right orientation from the seminary. When he felt like he was at the right distance, he stopped and set his watch to:
010000P - 05312010
May 31, 2010 was a date after his children had been killed, but before he’d really been embroiled in the lawsuits that ended up costing him everything.
He pushed the button and felt his body forced to one side as he shifted. He must have tried to materialize in the middle of some object again.
“Hijo de mi alma!”
Mark found himself in what appeared to be the back stockroom of some business, apparently a music CD store. A young Hispanic woman screamed at the top of her lungs, eyes wide with fear. She fled the storeroom in a panic, yelling for help.
“Manuel! Manuel! Venga rapido! Apareció un tipo ahi atras! Socale, socale!”
Crap. He needed to get out of here.
He shifted back to 1890. That must have been Discolandia , which was an Hispanic music store located in the shopping center next to his target.
Mark retreated about a hundred feet toward the seminary and set the dial for a day earlier, May 30. No sense in trying the same day. Who knew if the girl would call the cops or not? This time when he shifted, his body slid upwards, and he was forced into a sitting position. Awkwardly, he fell back into a seat and realized he was now sitting in the passenger side of a vehicle in the shopping center’s parking lot.
Man alive. Why did this have to be so difficult? Hunkering down, he slipped out of the car and moved away as fast as possible. Ever his luck though, the car’s owner just happened to be returning to their vehicle at that very moment and they let out a yell, as any sane person would who’d just seen a stranger slip out of their car.
Great. Again, Mark shifted back to the empty field in 1890. Nausea came on strong and he vomited up what little food had been in his system. This was becoming entirely more difficult than it should be.
All right. Two strikes. This time he wouldn’t take any chances. He walked back to the seminary building and, laying his hand on its bricks, shifted to May 29, 2010, another day earlier. The seminary was one building which would stay right where it was for the entire century, a safe reference point.
He was now safely in 2010, in the right clothing, and all he had to do was walk across the street to the shopping center and to his goal. Why hadn’t he just done it this way this first time?
There it was, his objective in all its glory. The Bank of America ATM machine.
Using Kelly's ATM card, Mark withdrew $100 from his old checking account. He was glad he remembered her PIN number. It wasn’t stealing if you took it from yourself,
He kept moving, circling back to the approximate place he'd left his horse in 1890. When Kelly came out of the bathroom, she’d just think he’d gone on to work.
***
September 16 th , 1890 – Lawrenceville, GA
The next step would be tricky to accurately guess. He needed to gauge the distance well so he wouldn’t pop up in the wrong place. He walked southeast, away from the county courthouse in the town square, down Clayton Street until he reached the old female seminary building, though it wasn’t so old right now. That was one landmark he knew wouldn't change over the next century and it was right across the street from his target in the future. Now, he had to imagine the modern scene in his mind to see how far he needed to walk
Doing some major guesstimations in his head, Mark decided to walk another four hundred paces angled 30 degrees to the left of the Seminary building. The father and mother of a family passing by shot him a funny look as he wandered across the street into the yards of some homes there. He knew he looked suspicious, yet it couldn’t be helped.
The surrounding field looked nothing like it would in the future, but it had to be the same place. It was the right orientation from the seminary. When he felt like he was at the right distance, he stopped and set his watch to:
010000P - 05312010
May 31, 2010 was a date after his children had been killed, but before he’d really been embroiled in the lawsuits that ended up costing him everything.
He pushed the button and felt his body forced to one side as he shifted. He must have tried to materialize in the middle of some object again.
“Hijo de mi alma!”
Mark found himself in what appeared to be the back stockroom of some business, apparently a music CD store. A young Hispanic woman screamed at the top of her lungs, eyes wide with fear. She fled the storeroom in a panic, yelling for help.
“Manuel! Manuel! Venga rapido! Apareció un tipo ahi atras! Socale, socale!”
Crap. He needed to get out of here.
He shifted back to 1890. That must have been Discolandia , which was an Hispanic music store located in the shopping center next to his target.
Mark retreated about a hundred feet toward the seminary and set the dial for a day earlier, May 30. No sense in trying the same day. Who knew if the girl would call the cops or not? This time when he shifted, his body slid upwards, and he was forced into a sitting position. Awkwardly, he fell back into a seat and realized he was now sitting in the passenger side of a vehicle in the shopping center’s parking lot.
Man alive. Why did this have to be so difficult? Hunkering down, he slipped out of the car and moved away as fast as possible. Ever his luck though, the car’s owner just happened to be returning to their vehicle at that very moment and they let out a yell, as any sane person would who’d just seen a stranger slip out of their car.
Great. Again, Mark shifted back to the empty field in 1890. Nausea came on strong and he vomited up what little food had been in his system. This was becoming entirely more difficult than it should be.
All right. Two strikes. This time he wouldn’t take any chances. He walked back to the seminary building and, laying his hand on its bricks, shifted to May 29, 2010, another day earlier. The seminary was one building which would stay right where it was for the entire century, a safe reference point.
He was now safely in 2010, in the right clothing, and all he had to do was walk across the street to the shopping center and to his goal. Why hadn’t he just done it this way this first time?
There it was, his objective in all its glory. The Bank of America ATM machine.
Using Kelly's ATM card, Mark withdrew $100 from his old checking account. He was glad he remembered her PIN number. It wasn’t stealing if you took it from yourself,
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