Hanging With A Time Surfer Page 10

  The sky brightened considerably as they turned the corner. An intense fire blazed along the riverfront less than a hundred yards away, stinging their faces with its hellish warmth and choking them with its thick, acrid smoke. The frenzied shouts of men hollering for more water buckets, punctuated by frequent small explosions, reverberated along the docks. The captain reigned in his mount and momentarily halted the procession.

  "Jenkins, Mueller—keep a close eye on those two,” the officer ordered. “The rest of you follow me. Our assistance is greatly needed on the docks."

  Quentin sighed as the bulk of the soldiers followed the captain. “Man, that's one huge firestorm. Why are they wasting time and manpower in taking us to jail? Why aren't all these soldiers helping to put the fire out?

  "Yeah, you'd think so.” Shelby sounded puzzled. An explosion rocked the ground, spewing another fireball shooting up into the air. Hot cinders rained down on them. “Ow! It hurts."

  Quentin attempted to extricate himself from the guard's iron grasp but to no avail. He blew the hot ash from Shelby's scalded cheeks. “Sorry, that's all I can do for now. My charming escort here won't let me use my hands."

  "Neither will mine.” She forced a laugh. “You know what they say—out of the frying pan and into the fire."

  Ooo! That smarts. Twisting a knife in his gut couldn't make Quentin feel worse. First he'd almost gotten her eaten by a killer fish, next he'd almost gotten her sacrificed on an altar and now this capture by soldiers. He'd promised to take her on a nice vacation. Some date he turned out to be!

  Another loud explosion and the blazing boat on the river started to list toward its side. With the ineffective, primitive means of fire suppression available in this era it was fated to sink to the bottom of the Mississippi within minutes.

  "I think I know why we're in trouble now.” Shelby's lips formed a thin, flat grimace. “They think we're saboteurs."

  "What? We just got here. What on earth could we have done?"

  "Boat-burners.” Her voice drifted away in shock. She shook her head and began again. “That's what they called them, Quentin. Boat-burners. They suspect we bombed that steamboat carrying supplies to the Union forces. For all they know, we could be Confederate spies—and they'll hang us for it."

  * * * *

  Shelby collapsed onto the crude bunk the instant the barred door slammed behind them. The forced march from the riverside to the Gratiot Street Prison exhausted both of them, but Quentin was determined to keep up a cheerful façade. There was no use in feeling hopeless in the situation. One quick press of a button on his time board and they'd be out of there in a flash.

  There was only one problem with that means of escape ... The guard had confiscated the contents of his pants pockets, of course.

  "Ugh, this place stinks like a million outhouses.” Shelby sat up again. “Don't they ever use Lysol or soap around here?"

  "They would if they thought it necessary.” Quentin sat down beside her. “Don't worry. This is probably only a holding cell. We won't be here for long. The moment they let us out I'm gunning for that gorilla of a sergeant who pocketed my key chain. He didn't even bother to tell his superiors he took it, so we don't have to worry about them asking what it is."

  "Yeah, but we do have to worry about taking out the dickhead who took it, and he's one big, fat, mean-looking dude.” Shelby sighed and laid her head on Quentin's shoulder. “I'm surprised they don't separate us since I'm a girl."

  "Correction—you're all woman.” He slid an arm about her svelte waist and lightly stroked her sides. “Man, are you ever."

  Pulling her into his lap, he lowered his lips to her and pushed his tongue deep into the sweet recesses of her mouth. Shelby stiffened at first, as if to protest their surroundings, but then relaxed and molded her curves hard against his body.

  "Hmm, I sure wish I could bounce up and down on that hot bulge in your pants I'm sitting atop.” Shelby ran her tongue around his ear's sensitive edge and reached down to squeeze his butt cheeks, pushing her bottom against his growing erection. He groaned and ran his hands up under her shirt, unhooking her bra. “But I suppose we shouldn't."

  Quentin arched an eyebrow. “Why not? It's quite dark in here with just lanterns and candles in the corridors. We won't disturb anybody unless you start screaming to wake the dead as you come."

  She giggled. “I promise I'll be quiet as a mouse."

  She lifted her shirt and exposed her pointed breasts. He immediately latched on to a nipple and began to suckle the rosy bud, slipping a hand down the front of her jeans to stimulate her already moist mound. The woman was insatiable! Had he created this sex-crazed, love goddess? He smiled and congratulated himself on a job well done.

  "Ooo! Yes, that's it,” she whispered. “Rub my clit faster. I don't know what it is about danger, but it seems to make me come like a freight train."

  "You enjoy the thrill of getting caught?” Quentin chuckled and took a deep breath as she lowered his zipper and began stroking his engorged cock. “You want to be spanked again for being such a naughty girl?"

  "Yes, please.” He slipped a finger and then another up her dripping passage and began to pump as he stimulated her clit with his thumb. “Oh! I've been very naughty today. I need a spanking. I need a ... I'm..."

  Shelby threw her head backward and let out a low moan as her pussy muscles clenched about his hand. She stiffened and rocked against the assault of his digits and sang out another soft cry as she collapsed against his shoulder with a sigh.

  "Feel better?” He patted her back as she sighed and slumped further against him. “It's time for a short nap it appears."

  "Give me a mo’ to recoup,” she muttered, wiping a hand across her perspiration-dotted face. “I need to give you an even better reason to spank me."

  "Really? And what reason is that?"

  She slid from his lap and gently pushed him backward against the rough mattress. Tugging his zipper all the way down she released his cock from its prison. With a firm hand on the shaft and her tongue dancing across its sensitive head, Quentin soon found himself approaching the edge.

  "Yes, that it. Squeeze my balls. Hmm, deeper. Oh yes! I love your tongue there.” Her finger slipped between his butt cheeks. He groaned and cradled her head with his hands. “Good heavens that's perfect. You'd better be ready to swallow the evidence."

  And she was, taking his rod further back into her throat as her hand and digit worked wonders. Biting his tongue, he held back a scream as he shot his entire load into her in a spasm of ecstasy. Sated and spent, he fell backwards across the bunk, moaning lowly as she continued to tongue his still sensitive organ.

  "Sergeant, get over here now and separate these two prisoners at once! One of them is a female."

  The gruff, commanding voice barking in the dark of the corridor sounded familiar. They immediately separated. Shelby quickly pulled her shirt down and zipped up her jeans. Quentin did the same. How long had their observer been standing there, watching them? Quentin gritted his teeth at their voyeuristic captor. The bastard hadn't even bothered to let them in on the secret so he and Shelby could enjoy the thought of being watched.

  "What do we do now?” Shelby whispered. She looked pale but bravely held her head high. A pang of guilt hit him hard in the gut. Why had he gotten the woman he loved into this mess?

  "Just follow my lead. I'll do the talking, okay?” he whispered. She nodded. “Good girl. You'll get your spanking later. I promise."

  "That can't be right,” the sergeant mumbled, trudging down the hallway, keys jangling from his belt loop. “Jenkins told me they'd brought in a young lad and slightly older gent."

  "All of you need spectacles. You're as blind as deep cave catfish."

  The flustered soldier who had locked them up cleared his throat and saluted the officer as he approached their cell with the keys. “Sorry, Captain. I guess since it was dark and they both were wearing britches the boys got confused. I noted the coolie wore short britches,
but I figured that was their dress while working on the railroad lines."

  "I see."

  The captain turned and fixed a piercing stare on Shelby. A small tic moved the corner of his bushy black moustache. He licked his lips repeatedly as if he were salivating over a four course dinner.

  How dare this blue-uniformed bastard lust after his woman! Quentin fought the urge to rush the door and punch the creep's lights out. No, they'd better wait patiently. Their time to escape was coming soon.

  The jailer slipped the skeleton key into the door lock and tugged once, twice, slowly swinging the squeaking cell door open. “I never knew Tucker's gang of boat-burners included women in their ranks, sir."

  "Yes, the Rebs have gotten so low that they're drafting the fairer sex into their dirty machinations to destroy the Union's hold on the river. They think we won't catch on to their evil methods ... Or the evil harlots they employ to execute them."

  The burly jailer poked them both in the stomach with his rifle. “Out you two. We'll get you into the light and straighten this out. Keep your hands up."

  "Anything you say, sergeant.” Quentin gave a nonchalant toss of his head. They slowly made their way out of the cramped cell and into the narrow corridor. “I'm just sorry the captain here won't let you in on the good time he's got planned for my sexy companion here."

  "Say wha...?” The pock-marked soldier froze in place. “You mean she's one of those ladies who wear rouge and work in Harrolson Alley?"

  "Sergeant!” The captain's tone belayed his growing frustration, but he kept his face controlled except for the moustache tic. “You will march these prisoners out of the cell block and leave the female prisoner with me in the interrogation room for a half hour."

  "A whole half hour?” Quentin whistled. “I figured it would only take you five minutes tops to have your jollies."

  The captain spun about on his heels and snarled, “Enough! Gag the prisoners, sergeant."

  Shelby's head perked up. She leveled a cold stare at their captor. “I can't do what I did to my friend just now if I'm gagged. You want me to suck your dinky dick, don't you?” She laughed. “Heavens, the captain's wiener's probably not even big enough to gag me! But I do like the looks of the sergeant's ... I can tell from the bulge in his britches he's really got what it takes to make a gal happy."

  The plan was working. Quentin could tell by the angry look in the young jailer's hungry eyes that he didn't care much for the idea of a superior officer receiving all the benefits of his rank. The sergeant halted and aimed his rifle toward the captain. The officer slowly raised his hands.

  "I'll take the prisoner into the interrogation room first, sir. For at least a full hour.” He pointed to an empty cell with the rifle. “Now, if you wouldn't mind, captain. You and this fellow can wait for us in there."

  Shelby sidled up to the sergeant and placed her arm about his waist. “Woo-hoo! I know I'll be in for a treat."

  The captain stood his ground, gritted teeth and hissed, “This is insubordination, plain and simple. You'll hang for this, sergeant."

  "But not until after he's experienced the best blow job in the galaxy.” Shelby blew the captain a kiss with one hand and slid her other hand into the soldier's coat pocket. “Isn't that right, Quentin?"

  "Damn right.” He winked at the sergeant. “She really gives the best blow jobs."

  The jailer flashed a puzzled look. “What's a ‘blow job'?"

  "Oh, yeah, this is Victorian times, isn't it?” Quentin scratched his head. “Perhaps Shelby ought to demonstrate?"

  "Sure thing.” Shelby quietly slipped her hand out of the jailer's coat pocket and hit the button on the key chain to open the time corridor. “First you pucker up your lips and blow like this while a big hole in the fabric of time starts to unravel..."

  The sergeant dropped his rifle. The captain dropped his jaw. Both men froze in place and stared in horror at the explosion of color and light and vibration emanating from what appeared to be the end of the corridor.

  "Run for it!” Quentin torpedoed from under the captain's arms and grabbed Shelby by the hand. “Run like you've never run before."

  "The time board—I didn't hit the button for it yet!” she shouted, breathless.

  "No time. We'll have to body surf the time waves."

  He encircled his arms about her petite form as they dove into the swirling vortex of time.

  Chapter Nine

  Desperately they clung to each other as the crashing temporal waves overtook them.

  Hang on tight! Quentin projected into Shelby's mind. Don't let go.

  I'm about to crush you to death, Shelby thought back. What should have been a romantic cuddle instead felt like she was being compressed by a giant waffle iron. I don't think I can hold on much longer.

  Yes, you can. You must. But whatever you do, don't lose hold of that key chain!

  An eddy of temporal distortion roared over them, knocking them from their original vector. Quentin mentally groaned. This couldn't be a good thing.

  Where will we land this time? she wondered, hoping for the best.

  Who knows? Probably not St. Louis. At this point in our travels, that's a positive.

  An epoch swell enveloped them in a cold and dazzling array of blue-green paisley-styled explosions followed by an irritating, high-pitched noise that would rival a billion nails being scraped across a chalkboard.

  Shelby's teeth itched. What on earth is that horrible racket?

  It's not on Earth, Quentin explained. We've slipped the time stream of your world and veered into another planet's time stream. It's sort of like when a record needle skips a groove from one song to another.

  Record? Don't you mean DVD?

  Huh? It's the same thing really. Actually, I think someone's trying to help us out, but I can't be sure.

  Suddenly the time corridor collapsed, spitting them out onto a dark, mirror-like surface. They came apart and rolled like barrels for several dozen yards across the smooth plane dimly illuminated by the faint blue of moon glow. Correction—moons glowing. Shelby noted the two natural satellites as she opened her eyes wider and sat up. They were not on Earth or at least not the Earth she was familiar with. Not unless someone had purchased a twin to keep the old moon company.

  "Somebody forgot to leave the lights turned on for us.” Quentin slowly regained his feet then helped Shelby to hers. “Usually this place is flooded with lights."

  "Where are we?” A cold breeze ruffled the hair on her arms, sending a shiver throughout her body. She stepped into Quentin's warm embrace and snuggled close. After a moment she lifted her head and scanned the horizon. She could make out nothing in the thick blackness surrounding them.

  "Brr! Somebody forgot to turn on the heat, too."

  "Strange. It's not like Barris to act so inhospitably.” He rubbed her shoulders briskly to warm her then checked his wristwatch. He tapped the display and frowned. “I think this thing is still on the fritz. It was only yesterday according to my personal chronometer that I visited here."

  "Yesterday you were with me rolling about in the surf on a prehistoric beach. Weren't you?"

  "Yes and no. In my timeline yes, but in this place's timeline no.” He smiled wanly at her confusion. “I guess the key chain's emergency protocols automatically took us back to the last place and time I visited before I headed toward your time."

  "Was this place abandoned then?"

  He shook his head. “No. There's something not quite right here. I can't put a finger on it, but something is definitely different."

  As if in response to his dire assessment, a low creaking sound reverberated across the metallic surface. A sliver of light grew larger and larger until Shelby could make out in the distance a tall, wide door lowering to permit them entrance.

  "That's more like it.” Quentin strode toward it like a knight eager to cross a drawbridge and enter a friendly castle. Shelby froze in place. He halted, turned and smiled at her.

  "What's wrong?”
he asked. “There's nothing to fear here. It's okay. Barris simply turned off the outside lights. Saves on power."

  She took his outstretched hand and followed, reluctantly. Something sinister was happening here. She sensed it somehow. They shouldn't be here. They shouldn't be here now. But Quentin would think her a silly human female if she told him about her weird premonition. She took a deep breath instead.

  "Who is this Barris? A fellow time traveler?"

  "You could say that. We're actually two of a kind. We're both rogue agents."

  "Rogue agents? You mean he's in trouble, too? What did he do wrong that got the time cops riding his ass?"

  "Nothing much. He forgot to switch off a time recording device during a routine inspection of a timeline once. Its energy began to feedback on itself. The explosion wiped out an entire ancient human civilization."

  Shelby gulped. “An entire ancient civilization! Which one?"

  "The Zantoli. You know the Egyptians, the Greeks, the Romans, the Zantoli ... Oh, yeah, right. You don't know. Ever hear of Atlantis?"

  Her eyes widened. She stopped and stared at him. “You're saying this Barris guy destroyed Atlantis?"

  Quentin shrugged. “Uh-huh. Barris did a pretty thorough job wiping every last trace of them from time and space. Only the legend of the lost continent of Atlantis remains."

  "Then the Time Cops should lock him up,” she muttered. “That's criminal killing an innocent group of people so carelessly."

  He began walking again, and Shelby followed halfheartedly. “I don't know about them being so innocent,” Quentin said. “The Zantolis were efficient killers, and they were set on world domination. Barris did Earth a favor to delete them from the timeline in my opinion. In fact, most time agents believe the time device explosion was rigged. Poor ol’ Barris got to be the scapegoat for something the Time Regulation Agency had planned on doing themselves all along..."

  His voice trailed away as they grew closer to the opening. Piercing white light blinded them both. Shelby cringed and ducked behind Quentin's broad shoulders. “Ouch! He must be afraid of the dark to have such bright lights in his home."