Jessie Coulter pressed her ear to the back door of the pharmacy and listened. No sound came from inside the Cheniere Station Apothecary Plus adjacent to Leighton Investigations. Good! A quick glance at the building next door worried her. Hopefully, the private investigator’s office was closed for the day too. It was Sunday after all. She sincerely hoped he wasn’t around because she was making enough noise to wake the dead. Funny, she would never have dreamed she’d be stealing from a pharmacy, especially one located in a poe-dunk town like Cheniere Station. With a glance right then left, she went back to digging in the pharmacy’s lock once more.
Christ, but she hoped she did not break the pick off in the stupid lock. It was the only one she had. Granted, her pick was not a quality lock pick, but she could not afford a primo tool. A dog barked a couple of blocks away. Jessie jerked out of reflex. Jez, but the quiet gave her the creeps. Give her the horn blaring insult hurling noise of New York City any day.
She had to admit she was grateful. The small town of Cheniere Station rolled up the streets at sunset. Otherwise, she had no idea how she would explain tampering with the backdoor lock to a stray passerby. “I won’t think about it,” she hissed under her breath. Her hands trembled. She inhaled a deep breath. “Come on, focus. You can do this.”
Those under the Sultan’s spell needed medicine. She was their only hope of getting the necessary antibiotics. There were so many who were ill and dying in the slave camp. “Got to try,” she murmured as she eyeballed the lock. She intended to provide medicine any way she could. If she could not find her parents, the least she could do was help those in her care. “Just get in and grab the stuff and get out. Can’t stay long. Even this place has police.”
Glancing up at the surveillance camera, she hoped her sunshades along with the disguise were enough to keep her identity a secret. Tall and slim, sporting a dark ponytail, she did not exactly blend into the woodwork, especially in Cheniere Station.
The tumbler turned. “Finally,” Jessie whispered with a silent prayer of thanks. Turning the knob, she slipped inside and crouched low. Breaking and entering were something she would never have imagined doing a couple of years ago. That was before her world had imploded. A professional dancer and antique collector turned thief. “Doesn’t look good on a resume,” she mused.
Scanning the small space in the waning light of the sun, Jessie tried to figure out the lay of the room. “Okay, where do they keep the antibiotics?” Examining the bottles on the shelves managed to frustrate her perfectionist mind. “Maybe here,” she whispered. Yanking open the refrigerator door, Jessie studied the bottles stacked neatly in rows. Penicillin, Tetracycline, and Bactrim. “Bingo!” Stuffing her hoody pockets full, she spotted the morphine. “Maybe this can help those I can’t.”
Her jacket caught on a tray filled with empty prescription bottles. The bottles clattered to the floor in slow motion. All she could do was cringe. Frozen in place for a half a beat, she listened. Better not wait any longer. The alarm had already been tripped, her scattered brain reminded her.
Jessie slipped back out the way she’d come. Wasting no time, she sprinted to the edge of the back lot then vaulted over the fence. Her long legs carried her to the outskirts of town. No police sirens yet. What? Was the alarm set for five minutes? “Small towns,” she quipped dryly.
Her throat burned. “Just the cold,” she whispered. Bending at the waist, she concentrated on breathing deeply through her nose. Her hands shook. Her eyes wanted to tear up. “Just the cold.” Swiping at the moisture, she stood then blinked. This was no time to go all soft over the trouble she might be in with that little stunt back there. She wiped her nose before zipping up her jacket to the neck. Had to get back. Her father’s voice rang in her ears.
Life is just life, get on with what needs doing.
Knuckling back the moisture, Jessie tried for composure. “Maybe I’ll get back with all of the meds this time.” Her mode of travel was hell on glass and other fragile objects. Reminded of the loss of several of the precious liquid antibiotics she had taken last time, she rearranged the contents of her pockets before zipping up the zippers sewn in to protect the pockets’ contents. Next, she examined the pouches, she had sewn into her jacket for the trip. Filled to the brim with medicines and traveling at a speed faster than light was a good combination for disaster. She winced. “Well, this is training by fire.” Jessie reached for the amulet around her neck. As if on cue, the metal heated in her hand. “Here goes nothing.”
Surging forward, she gathered momentum. The ground, under her feet, began to disappear. Soon, she was flying until everything was a blur. When all she could see were colors rushing by, she pushed harder. The magnetic pull of the time millennium always surprised her no matter how often she traveled through time. The struggle to free herself from the present world wasn’t easy, but she had faith all would occur as foretold by the gods. Freedom came with a roar coupled with a surge of wind. Without glancing back, Jessie knew she had succeeded. Next stop, the Netherworld.
***
Landing always came with obstacles. The transfer from one location to another continued to surprise her with where time chose to dump her. Rolling in the grass in front of Nybbas’ mansion, she came to a bone-jarring stop in the soft, emerald green grass of a meticulously manicured lawn. When the ground stopped spinning, she carefully stood.
“Like being shot out of a cannon,” she murmured. Her ears popped. She still needed work on a quick decompression tactic. Jessie opened her mouth wide to release the pressure built up from the change in air pressure before giving the side of her head a thump with the heel of her hand. “I’ll add it to my ‘to do’ list,” she grumbled under her breath.
She heard birds’ lilted song coming from the oaks and cypress trees. A fat cat sprawled in the dappled sunshine near the front porch of the opulent manor.
“Wonder where you came from?”
The cat’s bi-colored eyes followed Jessie as she skirted the exterior. She had another way inside. Glancing back, she decided the cat wasn’t there to keep tabs on her. He lounged on his side, his eyes closed and his whiskers twitching. “Probably dreaming about mice,” she muttered as she stepped into the shrubbery.
Wet slime coated the narrow opening. Jessie slid through before brushing at the muck. “This stuff stinks.” Up ahead, the corridor widened to accommodate a person walking forward instead of shuffling sideways.
Thankful for small improvements, Jessie slowed. With elbow room, she stopped long enough to examine the pockets of her jacket. She decided the medicine had made the trip through time and space unscathed, except for a hairline crack along the neck of the bottle containing the morphine. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Now, to get back to the slave camp. Her watch revealed the time as half past six.
Darkness was falling, and the forest was coming alive. Creatures of the night would soon wake and begin the prowl. She bent to check the camera set up in the hollow wall. Such a find wasn’t without its problems. She realized the unit was an old cinema camera from a century before. Fragile and challenging, the camera had been left behind by someone. Imagining a spy or the Sultan himself using such a means to observe and gather intel on anyone snooping around worried her on several levels. How did he use the footage? To jack off or did he have other plans? The fact the camera lay discarded meant perhaps the Sultan’s power had grown. Maybe he did not need the antiquated technology anymore. Even a blood demon like the Sultan could expand his techy skills. The last thought had her blood running cold. What if he knew who she really was here in the Netherworld? Such a thought caused real fear.
Footsteps echoed nearby. Someone was inside the parlor. Jessie’s breath caught. The need to escape warred with curiosity as to who the intruder might be.
“No time to waste,” she sighed. Turning, Jessie slid through the slim opening before sprinting down the path leading away from Nybbas’ mansion. When she was out of sight of the windows in the mansion, she veered off the path and into the darkness of the dense woodland interior. Then, she gripped the amulet, and with little more than a flash, she vanished into the inky blackness.