It's day 3 of the Howloween Blog Hop. Thanks to all who have been participating!
The answer to yesterday's excerpt was
The Tub, and I want to congratulate my Saturday winners:
Ebook - spamscape
Amazon gift card - JYL22075
Starbucks gift card - BLHmistress
There's just two days left to put your guess in! Remember, you could win even with the wrong answers! All you have to do is comment, and be sure to leave your email address. All excepts listed here are also on my website.
Now, on to today's excerpt.
***
A woman she didn’t know ripped open a sterile packet and handed her the cloth.
She knew what it was for without having to be told. She quickly wiped the demon
blood from the front of her jumpsuit, ignoring the stain that would permanently
mark it, then tossed the rag into the container marked with the little nuclear
waste symbol.
“Would you like something to drink?”
a man asked. She knew him, but his name eluded her at the moment.
“Yeah. Please. Thanks.”
“Take a seat,” Dirrin ordered
her. Not asked, ordered. She knew that serious tone all to well, although she
had been lucky in the past not to have been on the receiving end of it. Looked
like her luck had run out. She took the one deliberately left unoccupied chair
in the room.
The man quickly got to the heart of
the matter. “What do you know of the BENT project?”
“Just the name. I don’t know what it
means, or what it entails.”
The man who had inquired about
something to drink stepped forward to hand her a pouch. She thanked him and
drank. It was real spring water, fresh and sweet. Not the re-filtered stuff.
They waited for her to finish before continuing. When they did, it was the water
man who took the lead.
“It’s the acronym for Biological
Entity Neuron Transmitter.”
His name popped up in her head.
Nickkels. Still, it didn’t mean anything to her. The scientists kept to
themselves within their own little enclave at the far end of the second circle.
She gave him a blank stare.
“Think time travel,” Nickkels
added.
“All right. I’m thinking time
travel. Which way? Forwards or backwards?”
There were eight people in the room.
With a wave of the director’s arm, that number filed down to four: her,
Nickkels, Dirrin, and the woman scientist who had handed her the sterile
wipe.
“This is Phoebe,” Nickkels
introduced.
“Assistant?”
The woman smiled. “Co-creator.”
Although the smile had been genuine, there was a trace of bitterness behind
it. Apparently a lot of people must take her for Nickkels’ assistant.
Crossing her legs, she rested her
arms on the arms of the chair and tried to look relaxed. “Forwards or
backwards?” she repeated.
Phoebe replied. “Back.”
“How far?”
“If we can manage, forty-seven years
ago,” Dirrin answered.
“And you’re telling me this
because...” She already had a lump of ice freezing the inside of her stomach. It
was beginning to chill her blood, numbing her senses as it deadened her nerve
endings. They had called her in to tell her about this project that few had
heard of, and which practically no one ever spoke of, because it was supposed to
be all hush-hush. Which told her BENT was marked in the upper echelons as Top
Top Secret. Or higher. Was there such a thing as Top Top Top Secret?
Regardless, she knew what was
coming. In a way, the wait was almost worse than stalking demons.
“We’ve come to the point where we
either go ahead with the project, or shut it down,” Nickkels admitted. “BENT was
created to send a human back through time.”
“Back forty-seven years?” She looked
over at the woman scientist. “Forty-seven years ago was when Lambruchet imploded
and its demons took over the planet.”
Phoebe nodded. “We know. That’s why
we want to send someone back to try and warn the corporation before that
happens.”
“Warn it? Or stop it?”
Phoebe’s face hardened. “Either.
Whatever you can manage.”
“Me?” Stunned, she looked around,
but the same determined look was on everyone’s face. At the last possible
second, she had realized the truth. But hearing the words come from their mouths
still surprised her. “You...you want me to change the past so that this
future doesn’t happen? Is that what you’re saying you want me to do? Is it even
possible?”
“We’re hoping it is,” Dirrin
said.
She sat up straighter. The coldness
had seeped into her face, making her skin feel like an immobile mask reflecting
her rising fear. “And I’m the lucky person who got tapped to go back?”
“Yeah,” Nickkels responded with a
half-hearted smile. “Tag, you’re it. Congratulations.”
