Quantum Leap: Mistaken Generation.

Chapter Six

Pain and suffering scream from her expression. She shakes her head, "No. Please, no. Let him die. Please."

Liz snatches back her arm and breathes in deeply, trying to figure out the nature of this situation. "Jo!" she yells as she runs to the other side of the car.

"I'm here, what can I do?" There's eagerness in his voice.

Her elbow breaks through the glass to open the totalled door, "He isn't a teen. ZIGGY was wrong. Run facial recognition on him." By now, Liz has successfully gotten the man out and it all finally comes together.

She begged for his death

She's too young.

he's too old.

"Wait, Jo."

"Yeah?"

"I think, uh, it's his baby."

"And according to ZIGGY, he's a convicted pedofile, rapist, human trafficker, and meth dealer. There's no doubt in my mind that he is the father."

"I need to get the girl to a hospital. Find my real mission. Make sure he doesn't leave and give me a name."

Liz gets the poor mother to be up, and walks quite a ways in silence until she asks, "What is your name, miss?"

"Mister 'Silver Bullet' gave me the name Anne." Her appearance and voice all were doused in shame and depression. "He said he would kill me and my baby if I spoke anything in my native tongue."

Liz had to be careful with her next question, "Is this his...child? How old are you?"

The girl looked up from the pavement they were walking and to Liz's face, "I am thirteen and from Shanghai. It is his." A tear rolls down her porcelain face, "I came as an immigrant with my family two years ago. We were about to be homeless when mister Silver Bullet found us and made me an offer." Liz had a good idea what that offer would have been coming from a gangster like that, "I haven't seen my family in a year. I tried running away and finding them, but he found me and-" She clutched onto Liz's frame broke out into sobs, "He beat me and starved me and drugged me. He has brought me shame and my family shame." Her sobs turned violent as she muttered into 'Liz's' fishing vest, "Let him die there. Please, just let him die!"

Anne stood there and cried relentlessly in Liz's arms as Jo found them, "His name is Alexander 'Silver Bullet' Smith and he's a gangster; or was. He just died on the pavement where you left him. He wasn't just intoxicated. He had O.D.'d on meth and had a stroke on the road. ZIGGY said that he was an intoxicated teen because the gang he lords over payed off investigators to write that story.  You have three miles until the next hospital but only forty three minutes until the fetus is miscarried. A car will pass by in five minutes belonging to the sheriff and I suggest you hitch a ride. You might just make it in time. Oh, and your name is Damon Innez. Yeah, you're a 57 year old male."

She rolled her eyes, "Do research on the sheriff." Liz adds as the two nod in unison.

"What?" Anne questions and looks up, detaching from the puddles she created on Liz's shirt.

"Nothing." The two sit on the dirt road in silence for a couple moments, "You'll be happy to know that Silver Bullet is dead."

Anne looks with a spark of hope in her eyes, "Really?"

"You're free from him. We just need to get you to safety and help your baby out. The nearest hospital is a few miles away-" Anne holds tight to her womb and shrieks as she falls to her knees in pain, "Anne, tell me what's going on. Where do you hurt?" She shrieks again, followed by a sharp breath and fainting. Luckily, Liz caught her before her head could hit the ground. An engine belonging to a car comes from around the bend with Jo in the passenger seat.

"He checks out. It's okay, he's a good cop." he yells, "Run out to the middle of the road! Stop him!"

Liz does just that and stops the grey-haired man in the Toyota, "What are you doing?!" he hollers from the front seat in frustration.

"Help!" she screams as she bangs on the hood of his car. He rolls his brown eyes and jumps out, not expecting Liz to grab a hold of his muscular arm and drag him to Anne, "Help my friend. I think her baby's dying." she pleads, even though she knows her baby's dying. "She fainted and needs to go to the hospital. Please, take us there." The sheriff nods as he takes Anne in his arms, placing her in the bed of the truck.

"You need to ride with her in the bed. I don't have any room in the cab." Liz nods obediently as he passes Anne off. "you're gonna need to cradle her. There are too many pot holes on this road." he yells from the front seat.

"Yes sir."

He begins the engine, "We'll be there in ten. Hold on tight."

The whole way was filed with Liz's mumbled prayers and tension so thick you could cut It with a knife. The ten minutes pass like an hour as poor Anne comes to.

'Twenty eight minutes of life for this baby. God, help us.' Liz prays as they pull up. The minutes tick by as the stretcher is brought by doctors and nurses and Liz passes off Anne. Running in with the doctors, she fills them in, "She screamed in pain and then became unconscious. She's about seven months pregnant and has been missing for a year."

The sheriff stopped her dead in her tracks and spun her around by the shoulders, "Missing for a year? Was her captor's name Silver Bullet Smith? The gangster?"

"Yeah, but he's dead. He had a stroke and crashed his car. That's how I found Anne."

He shakes his head, "He gives all of his girls the name Anne. Each one under the age of sixteen and an immigrant. Her parents have been worried sick, but he would pay them to keep quiet." He starts to laugh, "Thank God for car accidents, huh? You're a model citizen. I'll go find the body and contact her family." He pats her back and exits the ward.

"You did it." Jo says behind her, "The baby is born premature. However, baby Lee grows up to be a successful CEO. 'Anne' or Bai An doesn't commit suicide, and her parents welcome her home after her therapy. You saved lives today. Your mom said she's proud. Time to leap."

The all too familiar light forms around her and she finds herself in a desk in a classroom of thirty-some kids, tapping her pencil. The stout, four eyed teacher  turned around from her chalk board with her chubby hands on her wide hips, "Mrs. Germanotta, how many times must I tell you to stop humming? Save that for choir. And write down the notes, would it kill you?"