The Prior

POV: Max Jameson

Elliots sits down on the bed next to me as Cass lets Belle out. I feel a little nervous, but Elliot seems relaxed. Cass drifts out from the entryway, her hands behind her back. She smiles at me.

“Go ahead, Max. What’s the question?” she says, sweetly. The smile behind her comment seems fake. I grip the end of the bed, the soft comforter deflating under my grasp. Something here feels wrong. Anxiety rushes down my body––into shaky arms, a queasy stomach, limp legs and an ever tightening throat.

“You guys clearly know something that I don’t. What do you know that I don’t?” I ask. Cass laughs a little.

“Be more specific,” Elliot says, adjusting the way he sits on the bed. He eyes Cass, who only looks at me.

“Okay. Who really sent us here?” I ask, my voice cracking a little. Maybe I’m so nervous because I don’t really want the answer. I don’t truly want to know if everything I’ve been doing is for some evil cause. Cass takes a few steps closer to me. She pulls her right arm out from behind her back. A shiny metal item is in her hand. A knife. Oh, shit.

“Hey, hey, I don’t need any of this,” I squeak as Elliot holds my shoulders down.

“I’ll answer that if you answer one question for me,” Cass says, a furious rage sparkling in her eyes.

“Okay,” I croak. My throat is starting to close in. I can feel my heart beating in my toes.

“Who sent you here?” she asks, smiling maniacally. I close my eyes.

“No one, I swear to fucking god. I swear on my entire life. I just woke up in the middle of woods with no explanation, just like you two,” I mumble. Elliot’s grip on my shoulder tightens. Cass doesn’t move the knife from my jugular.

“You really think we just woke up in the woods too?” Cass whispers, grinning intensely. A shiver of terror runs down my body. I feel Elliot’s breath on the side of my face. More chills run down my neck.

“Spoiler alert:,” he whispers, “We didn’t.”

I breathe out the breath I’ve been unknowingly holding in some sort of deranged gasp. Despite the knife remaining in the same position, Cass changes her stance to look at me closer.

“No?” I say. She shakes her head.

“And, we don’t think you did either. Who sent you? I was sent, Elliot was sent…. Who sent you?” she asks again, this time louder and harsher. The smile on her face has shrunken. Instead, the rage in her eyes seems to have dispersed throughout her entire countenance.

“I have no idea,” I whisper. They’re going to kill me. Cass shakes her head. Elliot’s left hand releases off my shoulder, migrating to the space in the middle of my neck. His thumb and forefinger pinch the spot’s sensitive skin. A small yelp escapes my lips. Yup, I’m dead. Cass’s smile returns to her face.

“C’mon Maxie,” she says, sweetly again, “Tell us the truth and we won’t hurt you. In fact, you can even help us do the right thing. Who do you work for?” her crazed eyes dash back and forth. I attempt to swallow the tight lump in my throat, but it only makes my esophagus more sore.

“I’m just a forensic scientist for a little police department in a small town. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know who sent me. All I’ve wanted this entire time is to just go home,” I muster out. Hot tears stain my face. I can’t help but cry. This is it, you know? They’re going to kill me. It’s all finally over. I asked the universe to send me home. It’s sure sending me somewhere.

Cass leans into me, her chest in my face. I can feel the heat of her body. She whispers to Elliot in Russian. I wonder if they work for the Russians. Is this some sort of secret operation run by the Russians? Or is it actually the US Government and two Russian agents just snuck their way in? I don’t speak Russian, but I do understand the words for yes and no. Cass asks several questions, all of which Elliot says yes to. Elliot asks her one thing. She says no.

She stands back up from the lean, but keeps her knife steady.

“Okay, Max, we’ll believe you,” she says. While the lump in my throat does not disappear, I can feel my hands steady a bit. Her head cocks, “But, we have a few more questions.” I nod at her.

“How long have you worked as a forensic scientist?” Elliot asks.

“Nearly one year. 10.5 months maybe,” I answer, certainly. Cass nods.

“Have you ever been involved with other parties, outside of your local station? Such as a federal agency or international group.” Elliot asks.

“I’ve never worked for anyone else. But, I’ve surely had large scale cases that required me to share information with other entities,” I elaborate. Cass raises an eyebrow.

“Like what? Who?” she scoffs.

“I had a couple murders when I first started that went to the FBI, but we solved the crimes. There was a supposed bioterrorism attack maybe a month or two before I woke up here, but the FBI stole all my samples and no one ever told me what happened. Not sure if it was even a bioterrorism attack. That’s just what it looked like to me,” I spill, knowing that if my lab director or the police captain ever found out I told these people about these cases I’d be fired.

“Elaborate,” Cass says, “On both, but especially the bioterrorism one.” I hold my breath for a second. This is going too far.

“I can’t tell you that. It’s all confidential. You just told me that you’re not who you say you are. I just can’t,” I mutter. Cass squints. She says something to Elliot in Russian.

“You’re going to tell us, but we understand your hesitation. We’ll tell you who we are, then you have to tell us about both events,” he says.

“Or what?” I say, feeling cocky.

“HA!” Cass exclaims, “Or we’ll kill you, obviously.” her crazy eyes are back. I close my eyes, hoping this is some kind of sick dream. I nod, at last.

“Well,” Elliot starts, “I’m Elliot. I work for the FBI, I told you that. About a month before this started, I was recruited by a group claiming to be the CIA. They told me the premise of this mission and invited me to training. I’m here to keep everyone in check. Make sure that no one questions things too much or tries to go rogue.” he adjusts his grip on my shoulders, digging more into my neck.

“Claiming to be?” I ask. Cass nods.

“Getting there. I lied, too. I’m not a diplomat. I actually work for the CIA. The real CIA. Um, they placed me as a fake diplomat to make me look appealing to a rogue group of spies who apparently invented time travel. I’m a highly trusted agent and apparently did my job well enough because I was chosen, obviously,” Cass explains. I start to put things together. How she suddenly had a perfect shot after just one training session with Elliot. How she seemed so unphased by death. How she was so good at lying. She continues, “Once selected, I’m supposed to figure out why we’re changing history, then stop it eventually and change history to prevent the rogue group from being created.” My heart sinks. All of this is for some rogue group of spies?

“Wait, so how are you guys on the same team now?” I say, glancing at Elliot from my peripheral vision. He chuckles a little.

“Cassidy figured me out, threatened me effectively the same way we’re threatening you. I found out the truth, realized that I didn’t want to be on the wrong side of things,” Elliot says. I nod a little bit, trying not to clip myself on Cass’s knife.

“So, Max, the cases. Go,” she says. I make eye contact with her for the first time.

“I’ll tell you, but first, why do you need to know?” I ask. She nods.

“Fair. I’m trying to figure out why the fuck they picked you. Elliot and I racked our brains for hours about what the four of us have in common. Or have to offer,” she says.

“Well, the murders were crimes of passion by an angry employee at a breakfast shop in Salem. The FBI thought it was related to some cartel crimes in Boston, but it wasn’t. Before you ask, they didn’t give me any information on those cartel crimes. As for the bioterrorism attack, I don’t really know what happened. But, I do know that a bunch of people got really sick with schistosomiasis. That was really the health department’s problem, but a close college friend of mine asked me for some help. My station got involved in testing the samples,” I explain.

Elliot cuts me off, “Wait, people were getting infected with what?”

“Schistosomiasis. It’s a parasitic disease caused by worms. The worms aren’t found in the United States, it’s too cold for them here. It’s especially too cold for them in Massachusetts. Maybe 100 people got infected, none of whom has traveled outside of the country. The CDC confiscated the investigation from the Health Department, but my friend and I were determined to figure it out. She didn’t tell the CDC that we still had samples in my lab. I had copies of everything. The CDC traced it back and claimed that the worms were in some infected bottled coffee, manufactured abroad. Anyway, that didn’t sound right to me. My friend and I,” I continue.

This time, Cass cuts me off, “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Ali,” I say. My heart hurts thinking about her. She nods at me. I continue, “Ali and I did our own investigation. Not everyone with schistosomiasis had even dranken the coffee. But, they had all purchased something from a brand new gas station in town. I told the local health department, but they said that since all the items from the gas station were made by different companies, there was no way that everything was contaminated. They were just lazy. I marched into the gas station with my police jurisdiction and demanded security camera footage from the weeks where these people had purchased the food. The clerk handed it over and surely enough, someone in a hoodie walked in with a syringe and a water bottle. He injected this serum into every item in the store,” I say. Cass gasps and looks at Elliot. I can’t see his face.

“Ali and I figured out that the water bottle serum must’ve contained eggs of schistosomiasis worms. Any items bought within the lives of these worms got people sick. We turned the information in to the CDC right away. Within an hour, all my samples were taken from me and I was forced to sign an agreement saying I would never speak on it again,” I say. Cass’s mouth hangs open just slightly.

“Yeah, that’s why you’re here,” Elliot says. Cass just nods silently.

She takes a deep breath, “And, Ali, have you seen her since they took your samples?” I sigh.

“She got into a car accident the day afterwards and was declared brain dead,” I mutter. My eyes water up, not long after the fear tears finally dried.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Cass says, lowering her knife, “Max, I think that the Congresionalists––the rogue group who sent us here––may have been responsible for the shit-so-mania attack.”

My breath catches up to me: rushing into the cavity of my chest before escaping through my lips. Elliot still tightly grips one of my shoulders, but has since adjusted so that he can look at me.

“Nice pronunciation,” Elliot teases. She smiles at him.

Cass’s smile fades as she looks at me, “But, Max, I also think that Ali was killed by the Congressionalists. They killed her to shut her up and they kidnapped you into time travel land to shut you up.”

A cry escapes my mouth. The watering in my eyes only continues to build until I can’t see anything but blur. The tears spilt over, flowing down my cheeks and onto my lap. I think I hear Cass coo at me. The warmth of two arms, then four, wrap around me. Ali’s face appears in my mind. I see her bright smile, her inquisitive eyes, her vivacious expressions. I felt lost and upset after her wreck. But, it hurts a million times worse now. Cass’s thumb wipes my cheeks clear of tears, but they don’t stop rolling. They both hold me as I completely lose it.

The pain in my chest doesn’t fade. But, slowly after several minutes––maybe an hour––my eyes dry. Elliot and Cass let me go. I look into Cass’s eyes. She gives me a weak smile.

“I’m so sorry, Max,” she mutters. I silently nod. Elliot rests a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m always here to talk if you need it,” he says. I take a deep breath.

“Thanks,” I mumble. I have so many questions for them, but I’m not sure if I can ask them without losing it again.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” I ask. Cass glances at Elliot.

“One important thing you need to know,” he says, “When I was sent here, I was sent with a recording device that I have to keep on. Congressionalist leadership listens to the recordings after every jump. If they hear me doing any of what I’m doing, they’ll send someone to kill me and likely you guys too. I can pause it for sleep, sex, shitting, but nothing else. Right now, it’s in my room, paused for ‘sleeping,’ but you can’t say anything about this tomorrow when it’s on.”

I sniff in mucus from my nose, trying to breathe. It runs down the back of my throat and makes me cough.

“Oh. Okay,” I say between coughs. Cass smiles gently again.

“You want me to stay here tonight?” she asks. I shake my head. I know she doesn’t actually want me to stay. And, I want to have some time to grieve alone. I wish I could call my mom.

“No, thanks though. Um, we’re not telling Belle? About this?” I ask. Cass shakes her head.

“I want to keep her out of it. In case something happens to us. She won’t be affected because she doesn’t know. But, she’ll remember the real history,” Cass explains. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve questioned things. The truth only brought me distress.

I agree with her and leave the room. I’m surprised to see Elliot leaving too. I slip into my hotel room. The bed awaits me. I peel back the covers and lay down, but it feels wrong. I stand up and walk to my window. I stare at the stars for a moment and see one flickering brighter than all the rest.

“Ali, I’m going to fix this. Just for you,” I say to the star. It continues to glimmer. I leave the curtains open and tuck myself back into bed. I watch my sparkling star for as long as my eyes let me. And, once my eyes give in, the darkness comforts my tears.