Read Online Shift (ChronoShift Trilogy) by Zack Mason - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Zack Mason
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was it? It sure felt better having a little cash in his hand again.
All of a sudden, a memory came to him. A memory of a $100 missing from their checking account early that summer. $100 neither he nor Kelly could account for. She’d lost her debit card around that time too. They’d assumed she’d just lost it somewhere and somebody else had withdrawn the $100. The bank had sworn the correct PIN had been used though, and he vaguely remembered them thinking the withdrawal had been made before they’d lost the card.
Was he simply planting these memories in his mind after the fact? Was it some kind of effort on the part of his subconscious to reconcile conflicts between his past and his present, or was the memory real? Would he remember the missing $100 if he hadn’t taken it now? Maybe taking the money actually altered the reality of his own past, or maybe his withdrawal simply triggered a memory of a forgotten event. How could he know for sure? The idea that his own memory might not be reliable was a concept he couldn’t allow himself to entertain.
Those were impossible questions and they’d have to keep for another day. For now, he would stay the course as planned.
He returned to the seminary building and changed the watch setting to shift him back from 2010 to 1970. However, pushing the button this time did not produce the all-too-familiar-yet-still-unsettling queasiness in his stomach. Instead, the watch just beeped and flashed like it had back in the woods. It had shut down again.
There must be a limit on how many times he could shift in quick succession. Mentally, he counted back, recalling each shift. He'd shifted six or seven times in the past eight hours. He'd have to keep better track of that and figure out exactly what was going on.
So, for now he was stuck in 2010, which certainly felt a lot better than being stuck in 1890. He was going to need a place to bed down for at least 24 hours until the watch cooled off or did whatever it did to reset itself.
He crossed town to the Lawrenceville Motor Inn and spent $30 on a room for the night. Another $5 went to a meal at McDonald’s, which left him $65 for the next day. At least, he’d gotten some food and a good night’s sleep. That motel bed felt like heaven compared with Red’s bunkhouse. He was getting downright spoiled.
***
Mark let a full 36 hours pass before making his next move. If he was going to go around disappearing and reappearing on a dime, doing it at night would make things a lot easier. Less witnesses.
At 1:00 in the morning, he sat himself on the historic courthouse steps in downtown Lawrenceville and set the watch to 4:00 AM, Oct. 17, 1970. In the darkness, no immediate differences jumped out at him after he pushed the button, but then he noticed all the old, ugly storefront facades around the square were back. The brick sidewalks were gone. Fowler's Jewelers was in business again. The building next to it which had burned down years ago stood once more without a lick of soot on it. The City of Lawrenceville had done a lot of restoration work to the downtown area in the 1990's, but for him, it was all undone now. Behind him, the brick courthouse walls were no longer their natural, rusty color, but were painted white, as they had been in 1970.
He bode his time for a few hours waiting for the town to wake up and then strolled to Edge's Café. He bought himself a hot breakfast for $2.00 and ate it slowly, thoroughly enjoying the southern flavors and giving the business world a chance to crank up for the day. Then, he walked to the small office building he’d been eyeing all morning.
Brett Harrington ran the investment office and served as the town’s main stock broker and financial advisor. His eyes met Mark with wary appraisal. Once again, Mark had forgotten to pay attention to the differing styles of dress. His 2010 clothing might seem very futuristic, or
All of a sudden, a memory came to him. A memory of a $100 missing from their checking account early that summer. $100 neither he nor Kelly could account for. She’d lost her debit card around that time too. They’d assumed she’d just lost it somewhere and somebody else had withdrawn the $100. The bank had sworn the correct PIN had been used though, and he vaguely remembered them thinking the withdrawal had been made before they’d lost the card.
Was he simply planting these memories in his mind after the fact? Was it some kind of effort on the part of his subconscious to reconcile conflicts between his past and his present, or was the memory real? Would he remember the missing $100 if he hadn’t taken it now? Maybe taking the money actually altered the reality of his own past, or maybe his withdrawal simply triggered a memory of a forgotten event. How could he know for sure? The idea that his own memory might not be reliable was a concept he couldn’t allow himself to entertain.
Those were impossible questions and they’d have to keep for another day. For now, he would stay the course as planned.
He returned to the seminary building and changed the watch setting to shift him back from 2010 to 1970. However, pushing the button this time did not produce the all-too-familiar-yet-still-unsettling queasiness in his stomach. Instead, the watch just beeped and flashed like it had back in the woods. It had shut down again.
There must be a limit on how many times he could shift in quick succession. Mentally, he counted back, recalling each shift. He'd shifted six or seven times in the past eight hours. He'd have to keep better track of that and figure out exactly what was going on.
So, for now he was stuck in 2010, which certainly felt a lot better than being stuck in 1890. He was going to need a place to bed down for at least 24 hours until the watch cooled off or did whatever it did to reset itself.
He crossed town to the Lawrenceville Motor Inn and spent $30 on a room for the night. Another $5 went to a meal at McDonald’s, which left him $65 for the next day. At least, he’d gotten some food and a good night’s sleep. That motel bed felt like heaven compared with Red’s bunkhouse. He was getting downright spoiled.
***
Mark let a full 36 hours pass before making his next move. If he was going to go around disappearing and reappearing on a dime, doing it at night would make things a lot easier. Less witnesses.
At 1:00 in the morning, he sat himself on the historic courthouse steps in downtown Lawrenceville and set the watch to 4:00 AM, Oct. 17, 1970. In the darkness, no immediate differences jumped out at him after he pushed the button, but then he noticed all the old, ugly storefront facades around the square were back. The brick sidewalks were gone. Fowler's Jewelers was in business again. The building next to it which had burned down years ago stood once more without a lick of soot on it. The City of Lawrenceville had done a lot of restoration work to the downtown area in the 1990's, but for him, it was all undone now. Behind him, the brick courthouse walls were no longer their natural, rusty color, but were painted white, as they had been in 1970.
He bode his time for a few hours waiting for the town to wake up and then strolled to Edge's Café. He bought himself a hot breakfast for $2.00 and ate it slowly, thoroughly enjoying the southern flavors and giving the business world a chance to crank up for the day. Then, he walked to the small office building he’d been eyeing all morning.
Brett Harrington ran the investment office and served as the town’s main stock broker and financial advisor. His eyes met Mark with wary appraisal. Once again, Mark had forgotten to pay attention to the differing styles of dress. His 2010 clothing might seem very futuristic, or
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