Interlude: The Tenth: The Tale of Dale

Two nights. That’s how long it took for Dale to discover his powers. It wasn’t a shock, the police station not believing his story. Dale had barely made it out of there before they started to ask too many questions. In fact, before they had even asked any questions. The laughter from the thought of time traveling preteens who magically grew up and aged as they moved forward 70 years still rung in Dale’s ears.

On the morning of the third day, Dale decided he needed to steal some more food, fast. The dumpster diving had made him throw up, and he was weak from hunger. But, as Dale stood in front of the convenience store, he realized he couldn’t go through with it.

That stupid cave, he thought bitterly. Dale kicked the side of his dumpster. His eyes teared up as he thought about everything he lost. Home.

“Stupid cave!” He yelled. The next kick was far more violent, knocking a hole into the dumpster with a rusty plume of metal. Dale paused, his mental train of self pity halted momentarily. He stretched out a finger and touched the dumpster again. It rusted and corroded away in the blink of an eye, leaving a hole where his fingertip rested.

Dale had arrived three days ago. In all that confusing time, he had been able to discover one of the most drastic changes in the world. Superhumans. They were everywhere, in newspapers and televisions and the radio.

Dale looked down at his hand and smiled. I’m a superhero!

—

The next hour was spent in a happy daze of experimentation and delicious treats. Dale discovered he could touch things and make them older or younger. The wrinkled chocolate wrapper from the bin became whole once more, and the apple core rotted away to dust instantly. Dale stuck his finger into the brick wall next to him and swirled it about. Patterns arose from the deep carving, clouds, a sun. His name.

“Why are you different? You are not the same as the other superhumans.” A flat voice, tinged with curiosity called out. Dale jumped up from his crouch and spun around towards the end of the alley where the voice came from.

He was a plain man. Slightly above average height, a dark coat, blue jeans. He had a backpack on, and was pointing a small rectangle at Dale. The portable telephones, right.

The man put the phone away and pulled out a gun from his backpack.

“Why are you different?”

Interlude: The Tenth (Part Two)

Another transfer, huh? The man thought. He had gone by many different names throughout his life. Truman. BrightBoy. Ricardo. Swordslight. He got a new one every time he got moved. Army. CIA. FBI. And now, a new task force. A new Operation.

His luminescent fingers lightly brushed the top of the manila folder. In a small, clipped, font it declared Operation: Shift Search. He opened it up. Stapled to the inside cover was a single piece of paper with the bare bones of his new alias.

No real name this time, I guess. Above his picture sat his assigned code-name. Crocea Mors. Yellow Death. That’s appropriate.

The rest of the file composed of a series of blurry photographs taken from different cities. And a single, clear picture of a teenager’s face. He had seen enough death to know that nobody survives a gaping head wound like that.

Underneath the teen’s face was a long segment of blacked out text. Several words were not crossed off, however. Dale. Temporal Manipulation. Claimed to be from the past. One of ten.

The man remembered Agent Montgomery’s last words to him before the man got the slim file. “This is only a teaser of the mission. They’ll fill you in later, once you meet with the rest of the team.” Montgomery’s face had gotten deadly serious, and his voice had grown flat. “Believe me when I say that this group of children could change everything we think we know about superhumans. Useful information for your predicament.”

The man shut the file and looked down at his glowing hands.

Finally.

Interlude: The Tenth

June, 1940 – England

They always left me behind. I was the youngest, so when we went exploring, I was always the one who was running to catch up with the rest. As the unofficial leader, Joseph had decided to have one last adventure before school started and Joyce, Lois and Leroy were shipped off to boarding school. So, he chose to go off into the woods to the South instead.

“But we always go to the North forest. Why are we in the South today?” I called out as I scrambled over a rock. I had to work the hardest to keep up with the rest, because at eleven, I was still the smallest. Joseph, who was thirteen and in the front, looked back at me with a cheeky grin.

“Because, it’s good to try new things. Besides, it’s the last time the ten of us will do anything together until the next holiday.” He called out, before scampering around a tree.

Leroy called out to me as we went back to the run. “Don’t worry Rosie, the wolves haven’t come this close to the town from the South in absolute ages!” I smiled to myself. Leroy could always make me feel better. I followed the other nine deeper into the forest.

It was a short walk. I listened at the back of the group while the others chatted and gossiped. Lois and Leroy argued, like usual. The next youngest, Helen K, had started ignoring me recently. I think she likes Joseph and wants to smooch him. I giggled to myself.

“Hey! Look what I found over here!” Dale called from my right. I followed Eddie and Grace over to him. There was a pile of moss covered rocks, boulders really. They were grey and weathered, and looked very old. Dale had his torso wedged in a small hole in between the stones.

Helen P. hopped off a stump to the side and peered over Dale’s shoulder. “What’cha got in there?” She asked him.

“It’s a really big cave!” Dale’s voice echoed back to us. He sounded excited. Joseph pushed Dale further into the opening. We all followed in behind them. I hesitated slightly before ducking in as well.

The cave had a weird smell, very damp and moldy. Everyone was oddly silent, the only noise was some echoing footsteps. Light streamed in through the small entrance, enough to illuminate the cave. We reached an unspoken agreement, and began to push deeper into the cave. It twisted once to the left after a sharp descent. Still, nobody said anything as we went down a small passage.

The cave had gotten noticeably colder, the wet smell had receded. In it’s place was something musty and dry. Dust covered the rough walls and the ground, only moving as we passed single file. My excitement and curiosity grew with each passing step. What is this place?

The narrow passage opened up into a small chamber. I could stand tall, but some of the others had to stoop. “Is that a sundial?” Leroy asked. In the middle of the room was a stone circle and a rough triangle that jutted out. The light in here was nearly nonexistent; I had to squint to make out anything.

We gathered around the circle, peering closer at the rough engravings. “How old do you think it is?” Wondered Lois. I reached out to touch it. The triangle was cold, with odd bumps on it’s surface. As I pulled my hand away, the dial began to glow. It emitted a soft grey color, the color of stormy clouds and pebbles. Nobody said anything, we all just stared in wonder.

The dial began to brighten into a shining white. The air in the cave swirled and moved, a wind whipped through my hair. Our shadows lined the wall of the cave. I tore my eyes away from the fluorescent dial and looked behind the others. Their shadows grew before my gaze. They got older, becoming tall and full. Eventually, the shadows became stooped and shrank. They collapsed on the ground, and became still. Did our shadows just grow old and die?? I started to panic, but didn’t want to break the silence.

I gazed back into the dial, whose light was starting to fade. Eventually, all the light in the cave was extinguished and the dial grew dark. I closed my eyes, and focused on my breathing. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Please God, let me live.

June, 2010 – California

I opened my eyes.