Clock Breakers

Rule 10: Don't Try to Save People

"No, Freeze, nobody. That's why you're practically leashed to me on training runs."

"But what about the really bad guys? Like the ones with no redeeming qualities?"

"What, like Hitler?" Nash asked tiredly.

"Oh come on, what positivity did he bring to the world?"

"It's not about positivity, it's about keeping balance. What's your genetic code?" he asked, sipping his generic can from the canteen.

"My genetic code, what, are you suggesting I'm a descendent?"

"No, genius," he said smiling, "I'm saying you're non-indigenous. You're european-white, right? How'd your ancestors get to North America?"

"A boat," I said flatly. He nodded.

"And why did they take that boat?"

"We were here before World War Two, Nash."

"Yeah, but why'd they come over? You from the original Columbus Cult?"

"No," I answered snarkily, taking his can to drink from, "It was after the first war."

"You still exist because of a world war."

"Okay, but how does Hitler play into it?"

"Well he got his start from the first war," Nash said, kicking his feet up on the desk. "If you kill his mother before he's born-"

"Nazis wouldn't exist."

"No, they'd be led by someone else, who may have been worse, like actually persecuting the Polish people, rather than having them sign papers claiming to be German blood, or successfully integrating the Soviet Union under Molotov rather than starting another piss-fight with them at the same time they were killing Britain and anyone in the Atlantic."

"You actually know more about the war than I thought."

"Well, I don't like the trenches much, but I can run a city raid at midnight."

"Really?" I scoffed. "The man who wore the wrong shoes to my compound, running night raids in Britain?"

"Well I say "raids", they were more like... "emergency evacuations" without anyone in the government knowing."

"I thought we weren't supposed to touch anything."

"Just... don't try to save people, Freeze. It never ends well..." he looked away, twiddling his thumbs.

"They didn't make it out, did they?" I asked, handing him the can.

"Some did," he said, looking to the ceiling. "Others didn't. Welcome to Dunkirk."

I woke up on the carpet, my fingertips brushing the fibers. Goddamn it, Nash, why'd you have to seep into my dreams? I stood with a groan, taking time to pop, crack, twist, and snap everything back into place. I stretched my back, rolled my neck, did a few squats. Floor sleep felt great for the first few hours, but not so much after that.

"Don't try to save people, he says," I grumbled, "as I'm about to save everyone. But sure, Nash, no problem, not like anyone's hunting me or anything." I rubbed my face and pulled out my notebook.

"How many pieces are there?" I asked it mockingly, pulling out my pen. "How many are left? Will I ever find them? Nay, I say, let's just save everyone I just killed! Easy-peasy!" I stopped and looked around the silent closet, realizing I was probably showing symptoms of something.

"Eh, we've been worse," I whispered, shrugging it off. I looked down the list. Cooper, Juniper, Jaysk, Doc, Nash. I squinted at Jaysk's name. I'd traced Cooper and Juniper's lives, and one of them ended at a wall, I set Doc on his path to be... well, Doc, and I knew Nash was still alive and hunting so I wasn't about to risk a fabric collapse by tracing his life. Jaysk though, he was intriguing. He hadn't died, not that I knew of anyway, he just... disappeared. And it's not like he was killed by the Masked Nash, otherwise I wouldn't know he existed in the first place. That Nash was finally starting to figure out that he needed to go back further to prevent anything.