Timelines Collide

Chapter 18: Unexcepted Bond

Why can't I figure out how this damn thing works, even with Lisa's blueprints?

That's what I continue to yell at myself. The controls are not responsive, gears are smashing into one another towards the bottom exhaust, and the missile's insides look like I shot through them with a couple of plasma rifles. Even I wouldn't be that cruel. Then to top it all off, the part that my Lincoln died for which controls this hunk of metal fuel line, lies in its tank without its glow.

How can I only half-fix an engine and place tiles back on a frame? Lola's art piece somehow shines even more than my frames do. I continue gluing frames and fragments back to the engine, with half of them actually staying on while others just fall in pools of my sweat.

Even Lincoln can't bear to see anymore, especially since I stopped answering his questions ten minutes into my repairs. He tells me how he needs to get ready for a date. Before he can tell me my mouth already says the words

"With the lovely Ronnie Ann, right?"

Lincoln's face spreads over a fire that was once a spark. I shake my head as he smirks and tells me to explain more of it later. His body flies through gravity to the front gate. Before going he gave me one grace of wisdom.

"I would give the wind a break from carrying your sweat. Let it take the pollen and send it up inside your nose."

I smirk at the thought and then watch him leave because I know my Lincoln would have told me something similar. However, my Lincoln might have stayed and forced me to do so. To my sad reminder, he isn't here, so I keep cranking away.

I only last another fifteen minutes before my body pleads to release the fluids I gulped much earlier. With hesitation I inch my way toward the glass knowing without the protection of my white-haired bodyguard; any of them could pounce.

None of them are in the kitchen to my surprise, which makes walking in a bit less heavy on my knees. My ears once both feet are inside get hit with the blaring of the numerous noises bouncing around the house. The sound almost compares to the many circuses battles me and my brothers participated in.

Admittingly with so much noise processing through my brain, I'm quite curious to see who or if anyone is quiet. Peeking into the living room to my surprise, it's the Folium's jokester.

She sits on the couch littered with school supplies. From her body arching the way it does I bet she's half-awake watching the valley governors talk about stuff that only mattered in my eyes almost two years ago. I pause a few inches behind her to listen.

Four governors, one each represents the four quadrants of this valley after The Great Terror destroyed it. The aftermath left their stomachs with such hunger, that they would do anything to gain to try, to salvage, to rebuild, to enforce, to then just give it all to Devastator. What does it matter?

Devastator's opinions and his legion out way anything they could do, besides, be on his best side. At least one of them supports us turning a blind eye to our doings within their quadrant. Sadly, another one of the four is like that to Devastator, while the other two fall along with whoever can threaten or bribe them first.

Watching them finger wag and shout at one another now in this time with their fancy skinned garments and their opulent mannerisms; no wonder Devastator was able to gain the support of the people so easily after killing a few ghouls.

"You know it's rude to not announce your presents to us you boob."

At first, the voice sounds wooden like she's trying to do a deep male voice. I look to the side of her only to have my eyes gawk, almost making me jump back and hit the floor. Her right hand is consumed by a wooden puppet with hair of gold and a suit of black and white. Its hollow-painted eyes glare into my soul while I try looking for his. Nothing but wood for miles.