Once Al had been cleared out of the bar, that's when the waterworks really started. Florette was a mess, and for the longest time she wouldn't let him go. Even his father had shed his public mask and broken down to hold him. Al had a feeling Ben's relationship with him had been mended, but that couldn't raise his spirits at the moment. With one or two disasters already diverted, he now had the task of preventing a catastrophe ten times worse.
He had thought for sure that he'd finally reached Sam. He'd let him go, hadn't he? And, not to toot his own horn, but he did save his life back there. So why the heck was he going to blow up a bunch of people at Mardi Gras? That was a real blow, to say the least.
There was one thing, however, he could change right off the bat. "Hey, Florette." He stopped her as they were walking up the front steps of their home. Louise strayed for a moment, realized Al wanted some privacy, and left them alone. The sun was already set, leaving only the porch lights to see.
"What is it, Ben?"
"I, uh," Al strained his neck distractedly, "I don't want you to celebrate Mardi Gras tomorrow."
She frowned. "Why not?"
"Because I don't want you to get hurt."
"How would I get hurt?" Florette giggled and pushed him playfully. He grabbed her by the shoulders.
"I'm not joking around here. It's dangerous, and I don't want you there."
Looking sympathetic, Florette placed her hands on his shoulders too. "I understand. After everything that happened today... I'd be scared too. But you don't have to worry about me." She hugged him again. "I'm just so grateful you're alive."
This was going frustratingly nowhere. "Trudy, I-" Al stopped himself.
"Trudy?" Florette pulled away, puzzled. "Who's Trudy?"
"No one," Al covered quickly, "I misspoke. Please, Florette. Do this for me."
"I'll be okay. You just take care of yourself." She touched his cheek, smiled encouragingly, and went inside. Al slanted his mouth and stayed in place.
Someone cleared their throat. Al turned, saw Sam standing at the bottom of the steps, and knitted his brows.
Unlike the other encounters Sam had initiated this leap, he didn't seem cocky or self-assured this time. He rubbed his arm nervously. "So..." he said hesitantly, "what wrong do we need to put right?"
Al blinked. "Well, we, uh, we could start with not blowing up 116 people."
"Huh?" Sam looked confused.
Now Al was confused too. "You mean you don't know?"
"Know what? Who's blowing up 116 people?"
With an urgency to his step, Al hurried down the stairs to stand beside him. "Sam, has your project gotten in contact with you since the power drain?"
"If they had, do you think I'd be talking to you? They would've retrieved me already and I'd be screwed!"
Al rubbed his neck in thought. "If they didn't order you to do it, who sets off the bomb during Mardi Gras?"
"Oh damn!" Sam's eyes went wide. "Damn damn damn!"
"What? What is it?"
"They did this to me before." Sam pursed his lips in frustration. "I screwed up, and they sent in another leaper. They don't think I'm doing the job properly, so they're going to do something even worse."
"If they sent someone else in, why are you still here?"
A dark shadow passed over Sam. "They want me to watch."
Suddenly, Al had an idea. He grinned. "That means we have an advantage." Sam folded his arms skeptically, but he was sure on this one. "If they don't know you're helping me, you can find out where the bomb is gonna go off!" He snapped his fingers as the plan started to come together in his mind. "You don't even have to do anything. Just be there, Alia can center on you, and I put the kibosh on the whole kit and caboodle. I leap, and before they even know what's happening-" He clapped. "-we're outta here, lickety-split!"
Despite this solid and, dare he say, brilliant plan, Sam did not share his enthusiasm. He bit his lip and tightened his grip around himself doubtfully.
"C'mon, Sam. It's a good plan."
Al waited, his body buzzing with self-assurance. This was going to work. Finally, Sam gave a groaning sigh and let his arms drop. "Oh what the hell? For once..." He raised his eyebrows and gave a slightly embarrassed grin. "Let's save them all."
-
If the pre-Mardi Gras celebration was hectic, the actual day was madness. The streets were crowded as far as the eye could see, full of music and dancing and bodies moving, costumes ranging of every color in the rainbow. It was just as Al remembered. Despite his anxiousness over the impending explosion, he couldn't help but be taken in by the joy of the people surrounding him. As he bopped up and down to the beat, he kept his ears open for Alia's signal.
As for Alia, she was very suspicious of Sam's involvement. She'd tried to convince Al to find another way, but, as he had pointed out, what were their other options? Good point, she'd said. Exactly, he'd replied, but with a smart ass tone. He knew the one that drove her up the wall. They had an idea of where the epicenter of the explosion was from the records, but the crowd was too chaotic to be able to make out who was placing the bomb where. Don't worry, Al had assured her, Sam would be there.
Sam was indeed there, and, luckily for him, he was a lot better at lying in this timeline. That didn't mean that he still wasn't scared as hell. One misstep, and he would find himself back in the Disciplinary Chamber. For how long this time, he didn't want to think. Not that he wouldn't be punished for screwing up his leap objective regardless. But if they found out he was betraying them...if this didn't work... He couldn't think of what would happen.
As the heat from the sun and the bodies and the terror stained his clothes with sweat, he flapped his shirt over his chest. Beside him stood Thames, holding a large satchel and grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
"Oooh, if you don't mind me sayin', this party is the bomb!" Thames belted out an uproarious laugh at his own joke, obnoxiously bumping into Sam with his hip. Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't look so down, Sammy boy! You're gonna learn how the pros do it."
"Don't call me Sammy."
"Someone has sour grapes." He giggled. "You had your chance. Maybe next time, you won't fuck it up." Then, leaning in closer to Sam's ear, he whispered giddily, "When they get through with you back at the Project, you'll be wishing you blew up in that bar."
Sam said nothing, keeping his eyes on the crowd. Al, where the hell are you?
-
"Al, are you sure about this?"
"For the last time, yes," Al told Alia again for what seemed like the millionth time, "Now go center on Sam so we can save the day or whatever, huh?"
"No, I mean..." Alia trailed off, stared intensely at the partiers, then returned her attention to him. "Are you sure you can leap with him?"
Al wasn't sure how to interpret her tone. He felt like he was giving Alia a death sentence. "Yeah."
Alia took this in, absorbed it, and became very grave as she watched the happy crowd again. When she met Al's gaze again, she said encouragingly, "I hope it works."
And she meant it, because Al knew what kind of woman she was. She was like Sam, and maybe that's why he liked her so much. Because for all of her bullheadedness, she always did the right thing in the end. And she knew what the right thing was here. With a press of a button, she popped away to find Sam.
No sooner had she disappeared, when she popped back in with a look of urgency. "He's putting it into one of the floats right now, Al! Hurry!" As she flailed her arm frantically at him, she phased through the throng and toward Thames and Sam. With some difficulty keeping up due to his tangibility and all that, Al was off like a prom dress.
-
Sam rapped his fist against his thigh, growing more and more anxious as Thames gleefully began to set the bomb some distance away. Al had better hurry the hell up, because time was not on their side.
Lo and behold, he saw him making his way through the mass, presumably following Alia. Making sure he was unseen by Thames, he motioned for Al's attention. With a silent acknowledgement, Al continued his way toward the float.
Let this work. God, please let this work.
Unexpectedly, Al skidded to a halt. Sam's stomach knotted up.
-
"What? What do you mean, Ziggy's going nuts?" Al asked with alarm.
Alia punched the handlink and shook it. "He says something doesn't add up." She read the screen and scrunched up her face. "Florette's body wasn't found after the explosion. She just disappeared. Which means..." Her face lit up in worry.
"...something else happened to her." As the realization dawned on him, Al angrily punched the air. "Geoffrey! That slimeball! He's gonna kill her!"
"It gets worse."
"Worse?" Al echoed in astonishment
"If you don't find her within the next..." Alia squinted at the screen, "5 1/2 minutes, Ziggy says there's a 96.93% chance she'll never be found."
"What?" Al began to rapidly search the festival, twisting his head this way and that. "And how long until the explosion?!"
"6 minutes," Alia informed him hopelessly, "Florette's two blocks over. With this crowd, you'll never make it back in time."
Despondent, Al put his head in his hands and slouched over. "What am I gonna do?! I save Florette, and 115 people die. I save those people, and Florette's history!"
"But it's just one person, right?"
Al looked up. Sam was there, gazing at him questioningly. He dropped his hands and said, earnestly, "I can't let her die this time, Sam."
Sam didn't ask what he meant by that. He clenched his jaw, looked toward Thames, and made a split second decision. "Go save her."
"Sam?"
"I'll stop the bomb. You go get Florette."
Al shook his head worriedly and leaned closer. "You gotta be touching me when I leap, Sam, or it won't work."
"Don't worry. I'll catch up." Sam was already backing into the crowd. "Now go!" The crowd closed in, and he was gone, leaving Al and Alia in astonishment. Al didn't have much time to think, though, because now he had to get to Florette, and yesterday.
"I'm sorry, Sam," Alia said, even though she knew she wouldn't be heard.
"Never mind that; take me to Florette now!" Alia nodded, and they pushed their way through the parade.
-
Sam stopped before he reached Thames, closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath. If he did this, there was no turning back. Even in his worst disobedience, he'd never pulled anything like this. They'd skin him alive, and quite literally. Every one of his scars called out to him and reminded him of how they came to be, each individual suffering from a majority of his life. His hands shook, the same hands that plunged a knife into his best friend's back because he was so scared of the punishment. God, he didn't want to suffer again. And he was too cowardly to die. There were too many times he wanted to, and too many times he'd tried...only to back out last minute.
It didn't matter if anything Al had told him was true. He couldn't go back there. Not under any circumstances. He'd get out now, or he would stop being so cowardly.
He stomped over to Thames, yanked him out of the back of the float, and tossed him to the ground. "Hey!" He ignored him and focused on disarming the bomb, but Thames had grabbed him by the legs and yanked him to the ground. "The fuck you think you're doin', Sammy boy?!"
Sam growled and planted his foot in his face. "Fuck off! And don't call me Sammy!"
"You're gonna pay for that, you son of a bitch!" Thames was on top of him now, throwing a punch at him. But Sam maneuvered out of the way and he hit the pavement, swearing loudly as his knuckles bled. A swift punch from Sam, and Thames was out cold on his back again. Sam grinned and sat up. He'd wanted to hit that asshat for a very, very long time.
-
"She's over there, Al!" Alia pointed to Florette, who was shaking in fear. Geoffrey was behind her, a knife hidden at her back, and leading her away from the festival.
Al was on him like white on rice. Grabbing a giant, whimsical flamingo from someone's hands, he thwacked it over Geoffrey's head and knocked him back. Florette fled from him and hid behind Al. "Oh, Ben! Ben, he was going to kill me!"
"Nobody makes a fool out of me!" Geoffrey spat, "No one!" He brandished his knife at them, and Al blocked her protectively.
"You stay the hell away from my sister!" This wasn't funny anymore, and he was through playing games with him. This time, he'd make sure it was finished.
"I'll just keep coming back. You'll have to kill me," Geoffrey sneered as he egged Al on, knowing he had the guts to do what the other kid couldn't.
Al returned the sneer. "Nah."
Meatface wasn't sure what to make of that. He lifted his knife again, when a commanding voice shouted at him. "Freeze! Drop the weapon!"
"I talked to the police, garbage breath," Al informed him, as if it were the obvious solution, and the troll just sat with his mouth open. He dropped the knife. A policeman approached him from behind, placing him in cuffs.
Another policeman wasn't far behind. "Can you handle this? I got a complaint about another fight by one of the floats." The other policeman nodded, and he left.
As Geoffrey hung his head and was led away, Al breathed in relief. "Geez louise. I'm really glad I didn't have to get into another fight. I'm too old for this chop-kick stuff anymore."
He was almost pushed over as, once again, Florette had her arms around him. "Oh, Ben..." she sobbed.
Aw man, not again. Al frowned and held her head, holding her close to him. He didn't want her to cry anymore. "Hey. I'm here for you. I'm always...always here for you." His eyes were getting misty too, and he wiped hurriedly at his cheek before pulling back with a grin. "I love you."
Florette sniffled. "I love you too."
A familiar tingling sensation began to trickle over Al, and he gasped. Not now! Not without Sam! Florette tilted her head.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. I gotta go." Al started to leave, but he stopped, turned around, and kissed her on the forehead. "Bye, Florette." Before Florette could ask anything further, he took off.
"He's this way, Al!" A scared Alia was pointing him in the right direction.
-
Ha! Sam dusted his hands off in self-satisfaction. The bomb had been incredibly easy to disarm. It was child's play to him, who had built and taken apart plenty of bombs in his day. His smugness was short-lived, however, as he began to feel the familiar tug toward another time, another place. Dread began to fill him as he realized that he had no idea where Al was, or if he'd completed his leap yet.
"Lothos is disappointed in you, Samuel." It was Zoey, watching him with a deadpan expression and her arms crossed. "Very disappointed."
A fearful Sam rushed into the horde.
-
"Sam! SAM!" Al barreled his way through the people, not caring who he ran into, as he searched frantically for his friend. He cupped his hands to his mouth. "SAM!"
-
"Al! Al, where are you?!" Sam pushed party-goers aside as he ran toward he wasn't sure where, twisting this way and that as he scanned the faces for Al. A red glow began to emanate from him, and he looked at his hands in terror.
-
Al saw him, buried in a sea of people, and his heart skipped a beat. "Over here!" Sam looked up, saw him, and frantically began to fight his way over. As Al waged his own battle with time, his vision began to tint blue.
"Sam! Hurry!"
"Don't leave me, Al!"
Just a few more feet. Why were there so many damn people here?! The music blared and the masses danced, not caring that their futures were at stake. The two terrified men were swamped, and the sand was slowly running out in the hourglass.
A violent blaze of scarlet. A blinding flash of cobalt. Two friends reached desperately across swaying arms and torsos.
"AL!"
"SAAAAAAM!"
Their fingertips touched, and the world went away.
-
Six decades flew by as Al was hurled through time, turning his stomach inside out and making him want to blow chunks. Somebody should stop this ride, because he wanted off! What was he doing again?
Sam! Where was Sam? A hand suddenly grasped his, and there was an abrupt drop.
The light faded away, and Al still felt the pressure of someone's hand in his. He looked up dizzily, and he saw the overcome face of his friend staring back at him.
Sam's hand fell dead to his side. He breathed heavily. "Did...did it work?"
It sure felt like a leap. Al's face split into an overjoyed grin. "You bet your butt it did!" He laughed loudly as his body hunched over with immense relief.
Sam, on the other hand, was still stupefied. He wasn't sure he believed it yet. But as he felt himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming and saw no one from the Project was there, he realized he was breathing in this fresh, clean air as a free man. For the first time in thirty years. Blinking back tears, he looked at Al overflowing with gratitude. "I can't believe you did it."
A hand grabbed his shoulder and Al smiled warmly. "Not for nothin', pal, but you did save 115 people."
Overwhelmed, Sam took in his surroundings with a profound new mindset. It was the most beautiful place he'd ever seen. The wind rustled in the trees. A couple of cows grazed peacefully nearby. The sky was clear of clouds as far as the eye could see. A nearby barn stuck out in the middle of the field just under the hill, bright and intensely red. Red.
Red.
Sam gasped and staggered. He knew the suit he was wearing. He knew this place. He knew this time.
"Kid, you okay?" asked Al in concern.
"This is it," Sam panted, barely above a whisper.
"This is what?"
"This was when I was taken."
"Here? Now?"
"Yes, here and now!" Sam raced to the edge of the hill and raised a hand over his eyes, trying to breathe. "It's...it's June 16th, 1970. I was at a funeral. My friend's cousin, his body had just shipped back from Vietnam." He swallowed. "I kept thinking...about Tom, and I left to get some air. My friend Herky, he came to check on me, and when he left, they...they took me."
Al cautiously looked around him, putting the pieces together and taking note of the bland, gray suit he was wearing. "Let me guess. I'm Herky?"
His friend nodded. Both of them came to the same hopeful conclusion, and Sam was the first to say it out loud. Stepping up to about a foot away from Al, he gave a lopsided grin. "This is our chance. We can stop it from ever happening."
"Then the timeline will be fixed and things can go back to normal!" On second thought, Al wobbled his hand. "Well, relatively normal. Point is, we'll be back in business!" He pressed a finger to his lips. "So, all I have to do is not leave, and they won't come after you, right?"
Sam was looking past Al's left shoulder. "Not exactly." Without warning, he grabbed Al and pulled him behind a tree. A shot rang out and bark spattered into the air.
Al felt his chest in wide-eyed surprise. "Thanks, kid."
"I owed you one."
Click. "You're quick, son, I'll give you that." The gun was pointed at Al's head, and he stopped dead still. Thames stood behind him, in his usual good spirits. "Now why don't you come along with me before I hurt your friend, Sammy boy?"
Raising his hands, Sam said shakily, "Okay. I'll come with you. Just let him go."
"Sam!" Al called, "Don't do it!"
"Quiet, Herky," Sam warned pointedly, "This guy looks like he means business." Ah, Al was catching his drift. He went silent.
Thames giggled. "That's right, boy. Listen to me, and nobody gets hurt."
Sam inched closer. "Let him go."
"As you wish." The gun moved toward Sam, and Al took his chance. He chopped his hand into Thames's inner elbow, causing his arm to collapse and drop the gun. Sam rushed in and sent a roundhouse into Thames's chest, and the man fell to the ground in surprise. Thames, who had been expecting to encounter two teenage boys, was completely taken aback. Sam snatched the gun up and aimed it at him. Thames raised his hands fearfully. "Don't shoot!"
"You son of a bitch!" Sam's hands shook as he pulled back the hammer.
"Sam..." Al said cautiously.
Sam's back moved up and down with his breathing. Thames looked about ready to wet himself. The only sound was the rustling of the grass.
"Al." Sam's voice trembled.
"Yeah?"
"Find some rope, will ya?"
Al smiled. He knew he'd pull through.
-
Once the knots were tied, Sam and Al looked down proudly at their handiwork. Thames's sunny attitude had been wiped away, and he looked at the both of them from the base of the tree with contempt.
"We'll be back!" he shouted.
"Yeah, yeah." Sam rolled his eyes, took off his tie, and gagged him with it.
"It looks good on him," Al commented.
"He never looked better," Sam agreed, and he turned toward Al and smiled. And Al saw, once again, the old Sam. It was a sight for sore eyes. As they swelled with the joy of new hope, Amazing Grace could be heard from the funeral on the other side of the hill.
"You did good, Sam. Get ready to leap."
Sam grinned proudly, and they waited for time to right itself.
"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me..."
But it didn't come. They waited still. Nothing changed.
Al cleared his throat and bounced on his heels, checking his nonexistent watch. "Well, uh...any minute now. Here we go. Let's leap." He ran his tongue over his teeth and screwed up his mouth.
"I once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now I see..."
"It's not over, Al." Sam was looking at Thames, but his voice was distant. He was very still.
"Sure it is. We stopped 'em from taking you."
"I'm still me." Sam's voice was frustrated, full of self-loathing. "Because this won't stop them. They'll keep coming to get me, and they won't stop, ever."
"Then we'll keep at it," Al promised him sincerely, "We'll make sure they don't ever take you."
Sam shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, grief-stricken. "It has to be permanent. They have to know I'm a threat."
"Sam?"
Reaching into the band of his pants, Sam pulled out the gun. He aimed it at Thames, cocked it, and closed his eyes.
Al tensed up with alarm. His head jerked between Sam and their captive, who stared back with pleading eyes. "No, kid, don't! This isn't the answer!"
"I have to do it," Sam said, his voice breaking.
"Not you, Sam! What did we work so hard for, huh? You shoot him like this, and you're no better than they are!"
Sam sniffed, and Al could almost hear a soft sob as he said, "What can I say? It's what they made me."
"Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come..."
"We worked so hard!" Al begged, flapping his arms, "Don't throw it all away! You're safe now!" God, he hoped he was getting through to him.
Until now, Sam's eyes hadn't left Thames. He turned toward Al, gave a sad grin, and tilted his head. "I'm sorry. You can't save them all, Al."
"'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home."
"SAM!"
Al couldn't hear himself over the crack of the gun. As he leaped forward to stop him, he shut his eyes tight to keep out the blood that was splattering his way.
"I think you'd enjoy this leap more than me, Al."
He gasped and spun around. He was back on the street in New Orleans, and an amused Sam was standing outside the bar. "Sam?" he asked, as if he hadn't said the name in a long time.
Sam's smile went away. "Al? What's wrong?"
"I-I was-You were-" Al checked himself out. The handlink was in his left hand, a cigar in his right. He wore a white shirt and red vest, and a quick feel told him his fedora was on top of his head. He sighed, closed his eyes, and said, melancholy, "You did it."
"What happened?" Sam was worried now, closing in and ducking to meet his gaze. "Talk to me. Are you okay?"
He was the same Sam as before, and his only concern was Al's well-being. Al was filled with elation at seeing his best friend back, but it was conflicted with the last image he saw of him before the timeline had been restored. Sam had saved them, but at what cost? Did it matter now? That was a Sam who didn't exist any more.
Maybe.
Al ran his hand over his face. "Yeah. I was just...worrying about something at the Project." Ziggy shrieked, and he hid the handlink in his pocket.
"Are you sure?" Sam didn't seem convinced.
"Yeah, I, uh," Al chuckled and shrugged, "I had a bet going with Gooshie, and I think I might've lost. We wanted to see how long it was until Tina got busted for carpooling with my bedroom friend, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows, and Sam groaned.
"I'm sorry I asked." Sam sighed, put his hands in his pockets, and surveyed the street. "Well, I guess I have some time to kill until I know what I leaped here for."
"Don't worry, kid." Al put his cigar in his mouth. "I know what you've gotta do."
Sam put right what once went wrong, and he leaped.