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I sat there, staring at my three friends for what seemed like forever. My stomach, which hadn't recovered from the conversation with the President, sank even further into my shoes. How much did they hear? What exactly did they hear? I tried to play the conversation back in my mind, figure out what I'd said aloud, but my mind was spinning too fast for that. Wait, David had thought it was a joke this morning. Maybe he'd think it was a joke now if I played this right. That thought brought a sm
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"Ibn dad la drk?" Sam whispered to me at the table, causing me to choke as the Dr. Pepper I was drinking went down the wrong pipe. He broke up laughing, as did David while the others at the tables around us just gave us dirty looks. In the month since Thanksgiving, most of our schoolmates had gotten use to us laughing at something no one else understood. The fact that we were in a Burger King in Fallon only meant that we were sharing a table with Derek, who was giving us a dirty look. "I kn
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"That pie was excellent, Susan." Nanny said with a satisfied pat of her stomach as she put her fork down on the table. Mom's parents had come all the way from California to visit us for Thanksgiving, forgoing their normal huge family dinner back in Modesto to spend it with us. "Thanks, mom." My mother said with a wide smile. Her brown hair looked especially nice since she'd had it done in town a few days ago, and she was smiling broadly at the praise from her mother. "That storm looks
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Third period had gone relatively easy after the morning with the Principal. Derek reminded me of why exactly I'd liked him so much in the first lifetime with his antics whenever Mr. Taysom, the World History teacher, turned his back to us. Between the facial expressions, and the cartoon drawings he made in his notebook, I was hard-pressed to not bust out laughing. Besides being the class-clown, Derek was also the brightest of my classmates, and I knew he'd be getting an 'A' in this course even t
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Life in rural Nevada had an almost idyllic quality to it that rivaled my fond memories of being at sea. There was always a lot of work to be done, but the rural settings, fields of green alfalfa interspersed with wide ranges of sage brush, and majestic mountains in the background lent a feeling of peace akin to that of the deep blue ocean. Not a day went by that I did not miss Brian, and my other friends from my past lifetime, but the ache was dulled by new friends - and lots of work. While
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"I want to go up there and beat the crap out of him." Dad murmured as he nodded his head in the direction of the forward cabin of the Air Force VC-20. It was a big plane, and we were in the large rear compartment that was arranged more like a conference room than a typical airliner. In the forward compartment, Dr. Grimes was handcuffed to a comfortable armchair with four armed sailors guarding him. "Leave him be, Dad." I said with an exasperated sigh. This wasn't the first time Dad had sugg
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The sun had just set when the two guards came back to my cell to escort me back to the central building. A very irate Dr. Grimes had informed me that my father was demanding to speak to me immediately. It seemed that Dad had remembered how I'd told him I'd always tell him myself if I was going to be late in getting home, and Dad had threatened to call the Sheriff if he wasn't allowed to speak to me on the phone. That had entailed a two-hour stand-off between Dr. Grimes and me. I was escorted bac
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"This place is like totally boring." Jenny moaned petulantly, crossing her arms and staring out from the back patio at the adjacent alfalfa field. Her blond hair flowed back in one ponytail today, halfway down her back and her entire body was rigid. "What the heck am I supposed to do all day? Stare at that stupid watering thingie?" "Well, we're going to town tomorrow with Mom." I pointed out to her and she gave me another dirty look. She was still wearing her Sunday dress. She'd arrived las
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The next morning we were up shortly after sunrise. It felt strange waking up in the new house, once more without Brian at my side, and it suddenly hit me that the chances of having him at my side again were less because of the move. Dad's cheerfulness was in stark contrast to mine as I set about making some breakfast. Luckily for us, the Deacons had given us some food for breakfast so we had food to cook that morning. After breakfast, Dad had me unpacking the kitchen boxes while he hopped i
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The government works in interesting ways, and while I did go home to Modesto to finish my sixth grade year, the government decided it did not want me to live life with the Rush family this time around. They wanted better control of me than they could manage with me in Modesto, and so they took their own steps. Part of their decision was my own doing, but in July of 1981, we were packing our house up for a big move. I had cried myself to sleep for a week when I heard the news. Since returnin
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"This is my second Do Over, gentlemen, so please excuse me if I sound a little bored about some things." I said to the six gentlemen arrayed around the table. We were at a CIA safe house in rural Virginia, actually sitting in the house's dining room around a regular table. Four of them were in uniform: three two-star generals and a two-star Admiral representing each branch of the military. Another man wearing a suit was an Assistant Secretary of Defense while the last man was William Blakely, a
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"Davey, wake up." The voice floated on the outer edge of awareness, but I did my best to ignore it completely. It was hopeless, I knew. I'd have to open my eyes and face reality again, but I didn't want to do that. "Davey, I'm not going to say it again, get your butt out of bed!" The deep voice was filled with a dangerous tone now, but I still wanted to pretend it didn't exist. By the end of the year two-thousand and four, I was physically thirty-six years old. Thanks to my participati
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Davey Jones thought changing the past would fix everything. He was wrong. His second leap through time drops him into danger with no clear way out—hunted by someone who knows his secret and faced with a future he barely recognizes. Friends turn into strangers. Strangers turn into threats. And every choice could erase him forever. The clock is ticking. The ripples are coming. This time, surviving the do-over might be the hardest part. The past can be rewritten—if it doesn’t erase you first.
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Registration with the Mage’s Council of the Valley of the Sun is mandatory if you are hearing this message. The message kept repeating over and over again, and Corey tried to block it out the way the woman, Linda, had showed him. It became faint, almost impossible to hear, but it was still there. That was when the short man with the jet black hair stepped in front of him, looking eye to eye with him. “Jesus, you look like a little kid!” The man said, and his voice held just enough o
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“That is one hunk of a man.” Emilio Sharpe stated as he looked out of the plane’s window. The wings had rotated to their vertical position, and the propellers were now glorified rotors as the Osprey descended onto Clairville’s extended set of landing pads just outside the city gates. Worthington looked out the same window and smiled before turning to give Emilio a stern stare. “That man is off-limits, Emilio.” He warned his squad leader as the plane jostled slightly with touchdown. Worthi
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“Fine.” Randall Smythe said, and Worthington felt the thrill of victory yet again. Actually, it was the first time in four years that he’d felt the thrill quite this strong, two long years of half-victories and half-measures. “You are correct, Worthington. All of these plans meet the conditions of your father’s will. The question I have is this: will he say yes?” “I think so,” Worthington answered as the thrill of victory faded away. It had been four years ago, just after their graduation
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This is the uncompleted third part of the Worthington Sinclair story. Only 3 chapters are available to be posted.
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Worthington sighed as he looked at his computer monitor and closed his eyes before continuing typing the conclusion of the after-action report. He was back in Clairville, after spending Christmas and the next few days conducting ‘clean-up' operations on the island off the coast of California. Typing this report was one of the most difficult things he'd ever done and put it off as long as he could, trying to deal with the emotions and swirling thoughts that were running through him. The cl
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"What a way to spend Christmas." Carlos Rodriguez said over the noise of the plane's tilt-rotor engine. The flight so far was bumpy, especially since they'd descended to skimming just above the waves as they approached the small island. "Can the talk, Rodriguez," Weatherby said in a stern voice as he looked out the small porthole-like window of the aircraft at the dark water below them. Brandon was curled up, still half-asleep next to Worthington, who leaned back against the bulkhead of th
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"I feel overwhelmed," Worthington admitted the Saturday after he had met the President at the site of the demon-controlled mage attack. He was back home in Clairville for the first time since he’d left more than nine days ago. Now he had a week’s worth of schoolwork to catch up, finals to study for, a Demon Lord to hunt down, and a mound of paperwork waiting for him in the office on the second floor of the Keep. That wasn’t even mentioning the meetings that were scheduled or the training session
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"The President wants to know why a seventeen-year-old kid is at the center of another one of these incidents." Ms. Huntington's voice was nearly shrill in his ear as Worthington walked outside the mobile command trailer the local police had set up. He stayed underneath the tent awning though, so the helicopters flying overhead would not be able to get a picture of him. They were next to the Tower of Terror attraction, just between it and the Aladdin stage building. The park was empty of a
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"No," Worthington said flatly, although the corners of his lips threatened to break out into an uncontrolled grin. He was wearing the tight, dark gray Pirates t-shirt he’d bought the other day, with the skull on the left side and other black designs that he thought had looked cool. On his head sat a black ball cap that Kyle had ‘worked’ so that the edges of the hat’s bill curled inwards, and he had on a pair of brown cargo shorts with flip-flops. "The picture is right there!" Kyle asserted,
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"Slow down, Mark," Worthington said carefully as the man began to ramble on again. He'd just shown up and started going on about Worthington having come so quickly, but hadn't said what was wrong yet. Was he even a Disney employee? Sure, he had a uniform and a nametag, but a mage would find that easy to get, even one as weak as this man. "Oh, I'm so sorry Mr. Sinclair." The man said as he blinked and took a deep breath. "I am just standing here rambling on and haven't even introduced myself
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"A guy could get spoiled traveling like this," Kyle said with an appreciative smile at the insides of the limousine as Worthington climbed in after him. They sat next to each other in the back seat while a flight attendant from the business jet put their luggage away in the vehicle's trunk. "Do you own that jet?" "Not directly," Worthington answered with a smile of his own. He did enjoy traveling on the smaller business jets like that one. They were so much nicer than even first class on
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"Ah knew Ah'd find you up here." Kyle drawled as he entered Worthington's bedroom on the fifth floor of Clairville Keep. The drapes were drawn back from the southern facing windows and showed the reddening of the sky as sunset approached. It had been raining off and on all day, and the skies were still partly cloudy. "What are you wearing?" Worthington asked him with a frown as he turned around from his desk area and looked towards the brown-haired young man that had been so frustrating
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