In 500... (or less)

Miscalibration

The surroundings were unfamiliar. I'd have to have a talk with Hubert when we got back.

"Any idea where we are?" Yerdley asked. I whirled around to scowl. Of course he got to tag along, his uncle owned the time machine.

"Well, we just need to get our bearings a little," I said, clearing my throat. I looked up to get some idea of direction from the stars. Dang it. Cloudy.

Waiting for daylight to navigate was not an option, it was supposed to happen tonight. If we missed the window, the cores in the machine wouldn't realign to travel back to this date for about 1,100 years.

"We get one shot at this," I said. "If we stay here, we'll miss it. I say we go this way." I pointed at a small depression and some trees off in the distance. "At least we know there's water over that way."

Everyone else nodded in assent. Well, almost everyone.

"I don't see any water," Yerdley said. "How do you know?"

Timmons stepped in and answered before I had to. And thank goodness too. Five minutes in and I already had my fill of Yerdley.

"Well, there are trees and a shallow spot in the land, the water will collect there," she explained. "If we follow it downstream, we'll find a settlement." Spoken like a true survival expert.

"Maybe we'll find a gas station to ask for directions," Yerdley joked. Poorly.

Time was not on our side. We had a three-hour window to make it there. After that, the cores would move out of alignment and we would be stranded here. The machine was programmed to bring us back before that happened.

We followed the stream bed for at least an hour. It did not have water, except for an occasional wet spot where the water recently soaked into the ground. But there was no sign of civilization. I figured we had covered three, maybe four miles.

"It can't be much farther," I said. The truth was, we might not have even landed in the right country. I had warned Hubert to recalibrate the machine before the trip. Lazy bum.

"Let's pick up the pace a little," Timmons said. "We're running out of time and I don't want to come back empty-handed."

We stepped it up to a brisk pace. But the truth was that if we landed more than 10 miles from the target we had no shot.

Another hour. It wasn't looking good. I tapped the face of my watch.

"We've got 56 minutes left," I said, dejectedly. "And we're still lost."

Timmons had a tear in her eye.

"Let's keep going," she said. "I don't want to give up on finding him. Think of what it would mean."

Still we walked. No one said anything, and it was better that way.

"I've got it!" Yerdley said, stopping dead in his tracks. He stuffed his hand into his pocket and produced his cellphone.

"We'll use the GPS to find Bethlehem!"