Twisted Time

19 - Preparation

La Rose rest area, 01:39

Dan blinks several times and stares up at the non-flickering lamp in front of her car, one of many bathing the parking lot in a flood of yellow light. As usual, it takes a moment to shake the dizziness of transfer and to find her bearings. Her car is as cold as before and parked in the once again empty rest area. The police patrol is gone, and so is her four-legged visitor. While she regrets the loss of the latter's company, she is glad the officers are gone. Relieved they didn't notice anything suspicious, she leans back and lets her thoughts drift back to Ric.

Before her head touches the headrest, the last picture of her accidental partner hits home, and she jerks up with a deft curse. He is alone over there, now, in the custody of the enemy. For a second, she regrets not holding onto his hand. Though it would hardly help him if I was caught too. He knew he would be detected first. That's why he urged me to take his spy thingy.

She pries the flat box from its hiding place to study it in the dim light. So far, Ric used it as a recorder, an amplifier, and as a measuring device. It seems to have a lot of unexpected capabilities for an unspectacular, sturdy plastic square the size of her palm, far less fancy than a Star Trek tricorder.

Dan smiles, reminded of Claire's annoyed reaction to her frequent science fiction references. If her friend knew... Unlike a movie prop, Ric's futuristic box has real power. Unfortunately, she has no idea how to activate the thing. So it is out of the question to use it to help her new-found partner. But why did he push it at me, then? Was he counting on the transfer and my disappearance?

She turns the box in her hands. Before she finds an answer to her question, a dry bark calls for her attention. A few steps beside the car, the black and white dog sits, head tilted, the tip of one black ear folded down, the other perked up. Dan lowers the window.

"Hey, you're back. I didn't see you sneak up, where have you been hiding, buddy?"

The dog stares at her with a lolling tongue, the gaze of the dark eyes inscrutable.

"Ah, I wish I had another treat for you, but the place I come from offers nothing edible. Just a lot of complicated tech stuff. Like this here." She lifts the grey box to allow the animal a good view. "And if you have an idea what I'm supposed to do with it, I'm all ears."

The dog rises off its haunches and approaches the box in her hand. After sniffing it, the animal sits again, it's gaze never leaving her.

"Yeah, I thought so. You don't have a clue about future stuff either. Perhaps Ric wanted me to hide the thing, prevent the bad guys from laying hands on it—" Dan interrupts herself. This might well have been his intention. She has to get rid of the box before the next transfer brings her back into the enemy's den still holding it in her hand. If it could be used as a weapon, Ric would have kept it for sure. She smiles at the dog. "Sorry, buddy, I have to stow this in a secure place. Be right back."

She leans over to open the glove compartment but hesitates. As a hiding place, it's too obvious. In search of other options, she scans the dashboard and the other stowing options the car offers. Finally, she drops the box into a crumpled bag of cough drops and squeezes it into the tray for sunglasses. Not a perfect spot, but ten times better than to appear with it, helpless like a deer in the headlights, after the next shift. This would play right into the dirty hands of Steff, Ken, and their hostile cronies.

The dog acknowledges her choice with a bark. "Thanks, buddy. I guess it's safe enough there. And if it comes to the worst, Ric can always drop by to pick it up. He's the well-versed time-traveller in our relationship, after all."

A grin tugs at her lips. Ric visiting would be quite a thing. Though the chances she'll be thrown back into his world every moment are far higher. And there, she will face his captors—her wannabe kidnappers. Dan's smile fades, and she opens the car's door. The dog scurries back a few steps.
"Hey, no worries, I just want to look for something to defend myself. You know, I'm in a pickle right now with these guys in that future place. I won't hurt you, promise."

The dog eyes her but holds its place. Dan swallows her fear of canines and leaves the car, wary of letting her new acquaintance out of her sight. "Just stay there, that's fine for me. I already told you I'm not a dog person."

When she opens the boot, a flurry of movement makes her whirl around, ready to defend herself. "Gee, you scared me. Don't do that, please, or my heart is going to give out. My nerves are coiled tighter than a spring."

The dog only trots to her side, sniffs her jeans and gives her one of these heartbreaking glances while it sits down.

"Aw, buddy, I'd love to feed you, but I doubt there is anything edible left. I also doubt I'll find a useful weapon, but it can't hurt to check." She rummages through her discarded clothes, throwing aside a half-full bottle of engine oil. It won't serve as a weapon. Dan briefly wishes for the policemen to come back. In a movie, I could trick one of them and nick his gun.

"Unfortunately, this isn't a movie. In real life, I'd end up in prison and you in a dog shelter if I tried this stunt. Out of the two of us, you might be the one better off. At least they'd feed you and give you a warm place to sleep, and you're cute enough to get adopted by a nice family." Talking to the dog keeps her hands from shaking while she lifts the fold-back bottom of the boot.

Underneath, Dan finds the spare wheel, a warning triangle, a jack, and some tools. Most of them are useless. Only the wheel brace looks promising. She bought it after a failed attempt at changing a flat tyre with the tool supplied with the car. Her friend Claire called her a fool for not carrying a tyre repair kit. Dan bought a long-shafted brace in addition to be on the safe side.

She hefts the quality tool in her hand. "What do you think, buddy, am I old-fashioned? Well, I might be. But the thing weighs two or three kilos at least, enough to leave a solid impression. A tyre-repair spray wouldn't."

The answering bark is short and makes her grin. "Glad you agree. Now, I just have to ensure the thing stays with me during the time shift."

Dan closes the boot and walks back to the driver's door. The dog follows her, eager eyes on the wrench. "Wait, you hope I'm going to play fetch-the-stick with you, right? Sorry, that's a bad idea. You'd hurt your teeth, and besides, I have to maintain contact with the thing. Otherwise, it won't follow me to the future." She runs a hand through her hair. "Sorry for the nonstop blabbering. I'm nervous and frightened, I guess it helps to cool down. I hope you can forgive me."

With a pleading whine, the dog sits down. "Oh, stop it, you break my heart. I can't play with you. And I'd better hide the wrench, or Steff will take it from me as soon as I appear over there."

The tool is too big to fit up Dan's sleeve, and after a few trials, she reaches behind her and stows  it under the waistband of her jeans. For a moment, she attempts to cover the unwieldy, cold piece of metal with her pullover but gives up. "If I put it underneath, I won't be able to retrieve it in a hurry. Let's hope I'll be facing the guys when I reappear. I wish you could come with me, buddy, and scare the shit out of those gangsters."

She wriggles, trying to get used to the coldness of her improvised weapon when the lighting of the rest area flickers. The dog's mad barks are the last thing Dan hears, her body already caught in another transfer.