Chapter 2

Escape…

Jack's Point of View

I laid in bed in the scrubs I had been given. I could tell it was getting late. The small window I had that illuminated my room dimmed. It was time. Dinner had been served. It was time for me to go. I slid out of bed and put on the doctor's uniform that the two nice men had stored for me. I slicked back my blonde hair and looked at the combination of numbers on the paper. I typed them into the weird panel by the door and heard a hiss of air as it open just a tad.

I pulled it and stepped out into the hallway. It was deserted. I grabbed a clipboard from a cart and began to pretend to jot down on it so my face was hidden. A nurse was walking down the hall. The moment of truth. I kept my poker face strong. Her eyes were on me, but she kept walking. I let out a sigh of relief and kept walking. Ahead were the exit doors described on my paper. My breathing sped with my every step. I reached the doors and typed in the code again. The doors opened and I exited. Now I just had to escape the premises. Easy.

I walked towards the gates past the foreign automobiles. The note briefly explained things had changed because I had been gone a while but they would further explain when I reached their home. I walked towards the gate where inside a small booth two men in uniform stood. I looked at the fence. Too high to climb. A soft whirring came beside me. I looked over to see a white car beside me.

I had been caught. Back to square one. It was a beautiful woman with black hair.

"Get in," she said.

I looked at her cautiously and took a step away.

"I want to help you. Get in so I can get you out of here," she added.

I opened the rear door and climbed in.

"Get down, Mr. Dawson," she ordered as I shut the door.

I ducked in the floorboard behind her chair.

"You leaving, Rebecca?" a man asked.

"Finally," the woman driving said.

"Have a good night, Rebecca," he added.

I felt the car jolt and drive forward.

"I can't drive you anymore. I'm going to drop you off here. If I take you to Brock and Lewis's they'll know you're there," she said halting the car after a few yard forward. "Get out! Run!" cried Rebecca.

I thrust open the door and shed my white coat. I ran down the road towards a city with big lights. This was for sure different. I ran closer towards the city. The paper said that if I got into the city I would find a taxi that would take me to a safe zone.

I was getting closer. My breathing became raspy and I finally ran into the city. Sirens blared behind me. I turned slowly. In the distance the building I had escaped flashed numerous lights. Small plane-like figures soared into the air.

"Damn…" I breathed.

I ran deeper into the city. People stared at me as I pushed through. I took in the surroundings briefly. Videos in color playing above me on buildings? I gasped as I caught sight of everything. I looked and saw a yellow car that the sheet I was given had described as a taxi. I skidded to halt and flagged it down. The car stopped and I hopped in.

"Where to, sir?" asked the man in the front.

I gave him the address on the paper and he began to drive. I turned around and looked out the back window. The facility still flashed. Above it the small planes flew. I was safe. In the floor of the taxi was a cap. A 'NY' embroidered on the front. I pulled it on and looked out the side windows. More lights and moving pictures on buildings. I was sure at one point I saw a man dressed as a woman. Weird.

About thirty minutes later I had entered a neighborhood filled with two story, small houses. It was dank and quaint but I liked it. The man stopped in front of a house and I thrust the money into the front seat.

"Whoa, you want the change, mister?" asked the driver.

"All yours, pal," I said quickly exiting the car.

Lights flicked on inside the grey house before me. I pushed through a silver gate and ran to the door. I banged on it relentlessly. It swung open and I was pulled in and guided to a couch.

"Jack, you alright?" asked the blond man from earlier.

"Yeah… great," I panted.

The portly one entered and handed me a warm cup of black liquid.

"Coffee," he said.

I took a sip. It warmed me. It tasted like warmth.

"Jack, my name is Brock Lovett and this is my friend and associate, Lewis Bodine," the man said.

I said nothing. Just held the warm mug in my hands.

"We explore the Titanic."

"Where's Rose?" I asked quickly.

Brock and Lewis exchanged looks.

"Where's Rose?" I asked again.

Brock walked to a large black box and pressed something on the bottom. The front lit up illuminating the face of a black woman. I jumped.

"What is that?" I asked.

"A television. Listen, Bodine and I composed a video over what you have missed over the past century. Just watch," Brock commanded.

There was nothing else to do! I stared at the screen. A picture of the Titanic at the bottom of the ocean.

A picture of a woman standing by a plane. Rose.

A picture of a woman riding a horse. Rose.

A picture of a woman in a wedding dress. Rose.

A picture of a woman very pregnant. Rose.

A picture of a middle aged woman on a boat. Rose.

A picture of a middle aged woman swimming with children. Rose.

A picture of an old woman surrounded by her family. Rose.

A picture of an old woman speaking with Brock and Lewis. Rose.

A video of an explosion that read Hiroshima.

A video of a plane crashing into building that read Twin Towers.

I didn't really see any of it. All I saw was Rose.

Rose living life.

Rose getting married.

Rose having babies.

Rose surrounded by a family.

'SHE NEVER LET GO'

Then on the screen popped a disturbing image: An old woman smiling with the caption:

'LAST TITANIC SURVIVOR DIES AT 102'.

'YOU WERE FOUND FROZEN AT THE BOTTOM OF THE ATLANTIC. THE ICE PRESERVED YOUR YOUTH. YOU GET TO LIVE LIFE OVER AGAIN'

Then one more:

'Welcome to 2011, Jack Dawson'.

Almost a century since the Titanic had sank… I was 119 years old… and young.

My jaw dropped. Tears swelled within me. Rose.

I stood to my feet and ran for the door.

"Rose is dead, Jack!" shouted Lewis.

I released the handle.

"Is that the truth?" I said slowly.

The door opened swiftly and hit me in the face. I yelped in pain and covered my face. So confused. Rose dead? No. She couldn't be. Before me stood a blond woman. She looked down at me and screamed.

"Brock, is that him?" she breathed.

"Yeah, Lizzy, it's him."

She looked at me and I looked up at her. Shocked and teary eyed.

"Oh my, oh my…"

And she collapsed. Brock ran to her side. I stood and ran up the steps to the second floor.

"Jack, wait!" Lewis called.

I threw open a door and went into a blue bedroom. I kicked the walls. I threw the pillows. I cried out in heartache! Why? Partly because Rose was dead, and mostly because she had probably married Cal and that's where she had all those kids from. That fire had to have gone out.

"Jack," said Lewis quietly entering the room.

"What?" I roared whirling around to face him.

"I'm sorry."

"She married Cal didn't she? That evil bastard Cal!" I cried.

Bodine raised his brows

"No. She married another man. Something Calvert."

My quick breathing slowed and I sat on the bed.

"She didn't marry Cal?" I asked.

"No," Lewis replied.

I sighed.

"Well, she was happy then?" I asked.

"Very."

I found myself calming quickly.

"Good to hear some good news…" I murmured.

"I see you found the guestroom?" Lewis mused.

I looked at my feet then back to Lewis.

"Give the guestroom to that girl Lizzy. I'll take the couch… and some different clothes," I said.

Lewis nodded and left me. I sat alone on the bed.

'She's dead. Move on. She died happy. She never forgot you. Happiness was hers,' I thought.

I smiled and laughed softly. Slowly I stood and walked downstairs.

Lewis carried Lizzy towards me and up the steps. I gave him a nod and a small smile of appreciation.

"Jack," whispered Lewis from the living room.

I entered to see a couch covered in blankets with a pillow and a stack of clothes on the coffee table.

"Those are for you," Lewis said.

"Thanks," I replied.

Lewis nodded and I walked over to the couch. I followed and looked at the clothes. A green button up shirt with numerous polka dots? A pair of dark green pants? Brown, shiny shoes? I had to be grateful. It wasn't the most snazzy attire but it would due.

"I'll let you change and uh… see you in the morning I guess," Lewis said.

"Okay, thanks," I replied.

"Sorry about the clothes. They were Brock's from the late 60s. The style back then was basically…baby puke green."

"That's really lovely. G'night, Lewis," I replied.

He left the living room and I changed out of my scrubs to the green outfit. It fit like a glove but I still felt weird without suspenders and boots. I slowly took a seat on the couch and looked at the television.

'Welcome to 2011, Jack…'

I blinked at it a few times before laying down at staring at the ceiling. A smile played on my lips. Rose had died happy. Just like I wanted. She had a lot of babies. Got married. Lived life to the fullest. I could let go of her now. I had to. Holding on would hurt too much. Like the video had said: YOU GET TO LIVE LIFE OVER AGAIN…

I could be an artist. I could make new friends. One thing was for sure. No one could replace Rose. Not anyone in the universe.

"I'll let ya go, Rose. I know ya want me to. But I'll tell ya one thing, Rose. There is not a girl out there that will take your place in my heart…" I murmured.

Then, slowly, I fell asleep. This time, I'd wake up in the same year.

"WHOOP! WHOOP!"

My eyes shot open. Someone rapped on the door viciously. The sunlight streamed in and I rolled off the couch swiftly. Orange, blue, and red lights flashed. I ran out of the living room and up the steps.

"What's going on?" Brock murmured meeting me in the hallway.

"Someone is here. I dunno who, but they're here for me I think," I said quickly.

Bodine came out of his room quickly.

"Military or not, someone is gonna get their ass kicked for waking me at six in the morning on a Saturday," he growled walking down the steps.

Brock looked from Lewis to me.

"Plan!" I hissed looking at him.

"Uh, right… Out the window," he said rushing me towards a room.

He opened the window and it led to his backyard. He grabbed a bag and threw in a wallet and some sort of jacket. He tossed it to me.

"Climb out. Go through the back gate and cut through the field. Keep running. Don't let them get you," Brock said guiding me to the window.

"Okay," I said stepping onto the ledge.

"Jack, remember, you're a survivor," he said.

I nodded.

"He's not here," we heard Lewis say.

"Go!" Brock whispered.

I crept across the ledge quickly till I reached the overhang of a patio. I caught sight of the iron beams that held it up. There was a complicated square design perfect for climbing down. I secured the strap of the bag around my shoulders and began to descend. I jumped down the ladder and landed on my ass.

I scurried to my feet and ran towards the fence facing opposite the house. It led to a field. I heard a whooshing noise above. I looked. The small planes.

"Shit," I muttered speeding up.

I pushed through the tall wheat-like grass and ran like hell.

"There he is!" a voice yelled from behind.

I looked over my shoulder. Over a dozen military men and police officers were on my tail. I ran harder and ignored the slight shower that began to come down. My feet ached. Ahead I saw a bridge and beyond it the city. If I could hide among the civilians I would be safe. I skidded onto a gravel paved road to see two white trucks converging on me.

They sped up. Two could play at that game. I ran faster and threw myself over a large hump smacking right into the cement of the bridge's base. I ignored the throbbing pain in my head and stood unsteadily to my feet. I blinked a few times to clear my eyes before running underneath the bridge towards town.

I panted and gasped for air. I felt my eye begin to swell as I ran onto the road. A loud skidding noise occurred. I looked at the car. The woman from last night.

"Get in!" she yelled.

I didn't have a choice. One of the small planes was heading in our direction. I quickly jumped into her car and she punched the floor. We skidded and began to speed forward.

"If I have to keep saving your ass, I'll lose my job," she growled keeping her blue eyes forward.

"No one said ya had to save me, miss," I growled.

"Well, I need you alive. I may work for them but I don't agree with them."

"What exactly do they want?" I asked.

"To study you. Capture you and sedate you," she said in a low voice.

I closed my eyes in frustration and looked in the bag Brock gave me. I found the NY cap I had picked up in the taxi and pulled it on to hide my blond hair. Next I pulled on the jacket. It was hard to hide in my pea colored outfit.

"I don't get it. You should be dead," she murmured softly.

I closed the bag and ignored the comment. I wasn't stupid. I knew I was supposed to be dead. I wasn't. That was all that mattered.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked looking out the back window.

The military and police convened in the middle of the road behind the bridge talking. They were confused. I sighed in relief and looked back to her.

"The city. I'm going to drop you off there. You got money?" she asked.

I looked into the front pocket of the bag and pulled out the wallet. Inside I found three one hundred dollar bills.

"Yeah, like three hundred bucks," I said.

Wow. I was richer than a king.

"Yeah, here, take this," she said handing me two more one hundreds.

I gaped and put it in the wallet. Where was all this coming from?

"Go to this place called the DMV. Tell them you've lost your birth certificate and idea. Make up a name and home. They'll give it to you on a plastic card and you'll take it with you to find a job somewhere. After you apply for a job, you find an apartment. That money should get you about three month's rent if you find a good and cheap place."

I took it all in.

"I'll just drop you off at the DMV, how's that?" she asked.

I nodded.

"I'm Amanda Hicks," she said.

"Jack Dawson."

"I know," she laughed.

Five minutes later we were in the city and stopped in front of a large grey building.

"Alright, Jack, you go by a different name and a different home, okay?" she clarified.

I nodded and stepped out of the car.

"Amanda, thanks," I said before shutting the door.

She nodded and sped away. I made my way inside the building and got in line with about fifty other people. It was going to be a long wait…

45 Minutes Later…

"What can I help you with, sir?" asked the dark skinned man at the desk.

"Yeah, I lost my birth certificate and license," I said briefly.

The man sighed.

"Mailing or instant?" he asked.

"Uh… instant?" I asked hesitantly.

"There's fifty dollar fee…" he warned.

I pulled out a hundred and put it on the desk. He groaned and handed me fifty dollars back.

"Name, date of birth and residence."

"My name is… Jude… Riley… I was born December 4, 1992. I live at…"

I didn't have a home yet. I couldn't get one without a license. I had to make up something.

"I mean, I used to live at 1001 Chester Square… Atlanta… Georgia…" I said.

The man angrily punched it into a small board with letters and numbers attached to a box that resembled a small television.

"What's that?" I asked.

The man looked at me with his brows raised.

"A computer…" he smirked.

I smiled embarrassedly and awaited my birth certificate and license. I jumped at the whirring sound behind me. The man pulled out a green piece of paper. He signed it and placed a gold seal on it.

"Now sit down for you license picture," he said.

I awkwardly sat down.

"Smile," the man said flatly.

He snapped a picture with a flash and I blinked away the sting. By the time I had recovered he had a small plastic rectangle ready for me. He handed it over and I stood looking at my face on it.

"Goodbye," the man said pointedly.

I turned on my heel and exited. Now it was time for a home and a job…