Baltimore 1838
The team walked through the muddy streets of Baltimore, searching for any signs or clues that would help them understand why they were there. So far, they hadn't had much luck.
Upon Flynn's suggestion, they checked bulletin boards, looking for more posters, much like the one they found when Douglass was born. There hadn't been anything among the papers tacked to the board.
Rufus sighed, "What now?"
Lucy shook her head, feeling defeated. "I don't know...I..." Her voice trailed off but her eyes were locked on something up ahead.
The team saw her distracted and turned to see what had caught her attention. Nothing had stood out to them. Wyatt asked, "Lucy? What's going on?"
Lucy blinked at the question. "I think that's Poe."
Flynn's eyes scanned the crowd up ahead, in search of the famed poet. Wyatt had turned, but didn't keep his gaze locked on the crowd long enough before he had glanced back to Lucy.
"What's Poe got to do with anything?" Wyatt questioned.
Lucy smiled. "I doubt he has anything to do with why we're here, but...I mean, that's Edgar Allen Poe! In the flesh!"
Rufus shuddered. "I always thought his stuff was too creepy."
Flynn muttered, "Looks like he's headed this way..."
Before they could act natural in their environment, Poe had turned to head up their side of the street. His dark eyes landed on them, and what little color he had in his face had drained, as if he had seen a ghost. He balked at them, turned on his heel, and ran the opposite direction.
"That's not suspicious behavior at all," Rufus stated.
Wyatt shook his head. "Come on! Let's follow him!"
The group ran after the Gothic poet as he ran down the cobblestone streets. It was clear to the team that Poe was trying to lose them within the crowds of Baltimore. So far, he was nearing success.
They followed Poe as he ran down an alley, only to discover that it had been a dead-end. Poe whirled around, eyes wide with fear as he took the team in. He raised his hands in front of himself defensively. "I don't know anything!"
"They why'd you run?" Wyatt asked.
Rufus nodded. "Running makes you look guilty..." he grimaced at his words, knowing that he had projected his feelings from his time onto Poe unintentionally.
Poe stammered, "Look, I already told you... I don't know a Lucy!"
Lucy's head shot up. "I'm Lucy."
Poe blinked rapidly at her, looking her up and down. "You're not with the others, are you?"
"What others?" Lucy asked, trying to keep the poet calm long enough to figure out what he had been talking about.
Poe shook his head. "No...no, you're that Blood group..."
"We're not Bloodstone," Lucy stated. "Nor are we Rittenhouse."
"Who are you then?" Poe asked.
"We're friends," Lucy explained. "We need your help."
Present Day
Tenley's eyes slowly opened to the bright lights of the hospital room. Her throat was dry and coarse, her limbs felt weak, and her stomach burned with searing pain.
Furrowing her brow, she tried to sit up, but quickly realized that she'd be unable to do so for a little while yet. She suddenly recalled being shot. She knew that gunshots took some time to heal, to get back on one's feet after the fact. She didn't know what day it was, or how much time had passed since that day.
Her eyes darted around the room, hoping to see a familiar face but there was no one. She felt around for the call button before finally finding it with her fingers. She pressed the button and heard the chime ring off outside her room.
It took the nurse over five minutes to answer the call. Tenley groaned inwardly at the length of time that had passed. She knew that it could get insanely busy on the floors, and since the hospital had short-staffed the nurses to save money on staffing costs, patient care had started to dwindle. She felt even more disconcerted about it now that she was a patient - a suffering patient at that.
When the nurse finally arrived to the room, she smiled at Tenley. "Dr. Levy," the nurse said warmly. "I'm so glad to see you're awake. You had us worried there for a while."
Tenley mouthed the words for water, which the nurse quickly grabbed from the bedside table. She helped Tenley drink from the straw. "Thank you," Tenley's raw voice said.
"I'll let the doctor know you're awake," the nurse stated, placing the water back down on the table. She turned to leave but stopped when Tenley began to speak.
"How long have I been here?" Tenley asked.
"About three days," the nurse replied.
Tenley blinked at the time that passed. When the nurse started for the door again, Tenley asked, "Who's the doctor on call today?"
The nurse replied, "Vargas." The nurse finally left the room.
Tenley groaned at the name. Of course it would have to be Roger. She didn't want him near her if she didn't need him to be. She began to wonder how well of a job he had done patching her up. She'd have to take a look herself when she had the energy to do so. She just didn't trust him.
Roger didn't waste any time to enter her room. He closed the door, crossing the room to stand next to her. He peered down at her. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
Tenley swallowed nervously. "I'm okay," she lied.
He saw through the lie, but didn't say anything. "How's your pain?"
"I'm okay," she lied again. Truth be told, she was in an incredible amount of pain, but she wanted to go back to the bunker, not stay in the hospital under the care of Roger for a moment longer than she had to.
Roger smirked. "You've been shot, Levy," he stated. "You don't have to put on a brave face for me." He reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing a syringe filled with fluid. "I have your pain meds here."
"What is it?" Tenley asked, showing her distrust of the man.
He glared at her. "Really? You're going to doubt me?" he asked, annoyed. "I'm still a doctor, just like you, Levy." He pushed the fluid into her IV port. "Just relax..."
It didn't take Tenley long to realize that Roger didn't give her pain meds, but something else as her vision began to blur and fade into black.
Before she passed out completely, she heard his voice once more. "I won't let you go again."
1838
Edgar Allen Poe had led the team back to his house. Once there, he offered them the few comforts he had within his house - tea, seats at the table, and small finger foods that he had available.
He looked at the team, clearly still uncomfortable with them. He saw them glancing about the small house, papers strewn across the tables and desks, and some crumpled up on the floor, creating a mountain by the trash can.
"I'm a writer," he explained. When the team didn't seem phased by the remark, he added, "But you already know that..."
"Can you tell us why you ran away from us?" Wyatt asked. "And why you know her name?" He pointed to Lucy.
Poe gave Lucy a quick glance before stating, "I ... I'm sorry, but I'll be locked away if I told you."
"No," Lucy cooed. "You won't be."
"I doubt you'd believe me to be sane after I explain it to you," Poe replied.
"Try us," Flynn interjected. He was clearly getting annoyed by the pleasantries. The team shot him a look, but he didn't care. He had other matters he'd rather tend to; like Tenley.
Poe cleared his throat before starting, "I dreamt about you. All of you." His eyes drifted to the cup in his hands. "I also dreamt about the others."
"What others?" Wyatt asked.
Poe's eyes lifted to meet Wyatt's. "The Four."
The team exchanged glances with one another. Lucy turned back to Poe asking, "The Four? Are they dressed in black suits."
"The very same," Poe remarked. "I dreamt about them for days before they showed up."
"In these dreams," Wyatt began. "What is it that they want from you?"
Poe shook his head slightly. "They kept saying something about a Lucy, but since I didn't know anyone by that name, I didn't think anything of it." He turned to Lucy and added, "Until you showed up."
"Are those men still here?" Wyatt demanded to know.
Poe shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. They seem to show themselves when they deem it necessary."
"So," Flynn asked. "If you saw us coming, why did you run?"
The poet blinked. "I honestly don't know," he admitted. "I guess because I feared that if I knew a Lucy, the other dreams would become true."
"What other dreams?" Lucy asked. "Dreams about us?"
"About you," Poe stated. He sighed, finally sitting down at the table with the rest of the team. He explained, "My poems - my stories, are things that I've dreamed about. In fact, one of my stories that has been recently selected to be published was a very morbid dream...and the editors loved every moment of it."
"Which story is this?" Rufus asked. He had read some of Poe's works, but couldn't get into it. He felt they were a bit too creepy for his taste. He had stopped reading after The Pit and The Pendulum.
Poe replied, "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket."
Lucy's eyes widened. "You dreamt that?" Poe nodded.
"I'm not following," Wyatt admitted. He'd never read any of Poe's works. He was familiar with them, as most were; The Raven, for example.
Lucy turned to Wyatt and said, "It's about a lost whaling ship at sea who end up drawing straws to see which member of the crew they would eat. A boy named Richard Parker ends up with the short straw and they kill and eat him." Poe's eyes widened as she spoke.
Wyatt asked, "And that's relevant because?"
Lucy added, "In 1884, four men were adrift at sea, shipwrecked and without food. They drew straws. The young boy who drew the short straw was eaten by the others." She turned to Poe and stated, "The boy's name was also Richard Parker."
Poe shot up from his chair. "How do you know about any of that? It's not even in print yet!"
Lucy motioned for him to remain calm. "Some of your other stories turned out to be true too." She gave him a sympathetic glance. "You know why we know...You've seen us coming...those men told you the truth, didn't they?"
Poe exhaled, shaking his head. "How is any of this possible?"
"Look," Wyatt chimed in. "We don't have time to explain any of this to you, but we do need to know why those men are here and what they want with Lucy." Poe glanced between the team. Wyatt added, "Will you help us?"
Poe sighed heavily, motioning defeat with his hands. "Fine." He sat down and asked, "Where do you want me to start?"
"The beginning is always a good place," Flynn replied, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't want anything left out because he didn't want to have to stop whatever their next step would be to discover a minute detail had been left out.
Poe stated, "The Four had appeared in my dreams about two weeks before they showed up. I couldn't shake them from my mind. Every time I saw someone in the streets wearing a nice suit, I panicked. I thought it was them. Eventually, I stopped looking for them. And the moment that I stopped looking for them, they appeared."
He took a sip from his cup, carefully setting it back down onto the dish. He continued, "They asked me if I had seen this woman and her companions." He paused and pulled out a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket, unfolding it carefully before sliding it towards them.
The paper was familiar to everyone sitting at the table. It was another Wanted poster with their pictures on it. This time, however, the portraits had been fixed. They looked just like their drawings.
Poe continued, "At the time, I hadn't seen any of you. I didn't even know your names. They didn't believe me..."
"What did they do to you?" Lucy asked, sensing trouble on the horizon. She saw the pained expression on Edgar's face.
He clenched his fists. "They took my wife with them. They told me that I would get her back the moment that I agreed to help them."
"Help them with what?" Lucy asked.
Poe looked into Lucy's brown eyes. "They want you in return."
"Did they say why?" Wyatt asked, voice hardening protectively.
Poe shook his head. "No," he admitted.
"What did they ask you to do?" Flynn questioned. He knew that it wasn't going to be as simple as letting them know that Lucy had arrived to this time period. It would be something more involved than just that.
Poe quickly glanced up at Flynn before adverting his gaze. "I'm supposed to lead you to a small warehouse nearby," he told them. "They'd be ready for your arrival and then they'd give me back my wife."
Wyatt asked, "Just like that?" Wyatt raised an eyebrow before glancing at the faces of his team. None of them seemed to be buying into what Poe was saying.
Rufus seemed lost in thought. He finally asked, "Have you always been able to dream the future?" The team seemed somewhat stunned that he was asking this question now, but they also knew why he was doing it; Jiya. He clearly had been thinking back to Jiya's visions and how it's been impacting her.
Poe shook his head. "No... I haven't," he stated. "Why do you ask?"
Rufus sighed. "I have a friend who's been seeing the future too...but she's awake when it happens."
Poe's eyes narrowed. "I've never seen the future while awake before..."
"So," Wyatt began, interrupting the conversation between Rufus and Poe. "Where is this warehouse? How many men will they have there?"
Poe shook his head. "I don't know how many men will be there, but I can take you there."
Flynn let loose a short amused laugh. "That's exactly what they want you to do."
"Please," Poe begged, looking like he'd been ousted by his own story. "I'm begging you. I have to get my wife back...she's very sick."
Rufus asked, "What's wrong with her?"
Before Poe had a chance to explain, Lucy stated, "She's got tuberculosis. She dies in 1847-" Her eyes widened with fear, mouth falling agape at her insensitivity regarding telling the future in front of the man who would be greatly impacted by it. She whirled her head around to look at him. "I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to-"
"How do you know all of this?" Poe asked, tears forming behind his eyes. "I've never told anyone that she's sick."
Lucy sighed, thinking on how to handle the situation. Flynn, however, chimed in. "Look," he began. "You already know. We're from the future. We know all about your life, your publications, even your death. We don't have time for this."
"Flynn!" Lucy hissed at him.
Flynn ignored her warnings and the death stares the men were giving him. He continued, "If you truly care about your wife, you'll tell us exactly what those men want with Lucy, with you and your wife. The longer you stall, the less likely you'll see your wife alive again."
For the first time since meeting Edgar Allen Poe, the team saw the cracks in his performance. The expression that the poet wore on his face had been mixed; sadness, fear, anger, resentment, and confusion.
"They're already coming," Poe admitted so quietly, it was barely heard; but it was heard. "I've taken so long as it is..."
Wyatt was the first to jump to his feet, gun drawn, followed by Flynn. Both were on the immediate defensive. They didn't know what to expect, but they knew enough to know that whatever these Bloodstone men wanted, the battle wouldn't be an easy one. Each time they had crossed paths with these men, one of their own had suffered.
Thoughts of Tenley had swarmed Flynn's mind. If anything, he'd kill them all to exact revenge for her sufferings.
Poe cleared his throat. "There's a way out under the house," he stated. "It will lead you outside the city." Everyone glanced over at the poet. He stood there, forlorn. He whispered, "If I help you escape, promise me you'll find my wife and bring her home."
"We'll do what we can," Lucy cooed at him.
Poe rushed forward, grabbing his coat and pulling it on. He motioned for them to follow him as he opened up the closet door. Pulling a knob that had been hidden in the floor, he opened the door to the crawlspace under the house. He glanced over his shoulder, motioning to the team to enter quickly.
Wyatt jumped inside first, cautiously scanning the darkened corridors for dangers. When he was satisfied, he motioned for the others to join him. Lucy went inside next, followed by Rufus. Flynn hopped down, and Poe closed the door behind him.
The moment the door to the house closed, they were enveloped in darkness. Within a short minute, Poe had lit a torch. He turned to the team and whispered, "This way."
The team followed the poet through the underground tunnels beneath the city.
"I don't remember hearing about these tunnels," Lucy began. She halted her sentence, remembering that she shouldn't be saying too much in front of the man - at least, any more than she had already.
Poe stated, "They're old ruins that the city decided to build on top of. Very few people know about them."
The group followed him through the labyrinth of tunnels until they finally reached a storm grate, allowing them fresh air and an exit to the outside.
Poe pushed the rod-iron gate open and they exited into a small field just on the outskirts of the city. The team looked at the view of the city in the middle of the night.
"What are you going to do now?" Rufus questioned.
Poe replied, "I keep my head down as best as I can, pushing forward as always."
Lucy felt the pain he showed on his face. She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry about your wife."
"I'm sorry that you're tied up in all this," he admitted. "There is something that I should tell you..."
Lucy held his gaze. "What's that?"
He whispered, "Don't trust anyone." She furrowed her brow at him.
Before she could ask him what he meant, Flynn announced, "We've got company coming."
In the shadows of the fields, they could see the outlines of four men making their approach towards them. They carried a torch each. It had become obvious to them at this point that they had been led into a trap, regardless of Poe's help.
Wyatt turned to Poe. "You led us straight to them?"
Poe shook his head. "They knew before we even met."
"How is that possible?" Rufus asked.
The men were getting closer. Flynn and Wyatt hunkered down into some cover, prepared to make a fight for an escape.
Lucy, Rufus, and Poe found a place behind Flynn and Wyatt to hide.
Rufus looked over at the poet and asked, "Your dreams of the future, do you believe them to be God-given gifts?" Rufus had been thinking on this since he had discovered that Poe had visions of the future, much like Harriet Tubman had stated she also possessed the ability. Harriet believed that they were gifts from God. Jiya, on the other hand, didn't think they were gifts at all.
Poe's face scrunched up at the phrasing. "Why would God give anyone this gift? I believe it to be a curse."
Rufus seemed shocked to hear someone see it that way. It became clear to him that no one would be able to agree on whether or not it was a gift, curse, or what. He had hoped to bring back something useful for Jiya, but he had realized that Poe didn't want to talk about it.
The men had gotten closer. Suddenly, they stopped. They seemed to know exactly where the team had hunkered down.
One of the men shouted, "We know you're there! We don't want to have to kill any of you!"
Flynn scoffed at the empty words. Wyatt kept his eyes fixated on the men before them.
"We just want Lucy!" the man shouted again. "Let her come with us, we'll release the woman, and we can all go about with our lives."
Flynn and Wyatt exchanged glances. They weren't going to listen to these men. They certainly weren't going to hand Lucy over to them. They claimed they'd let everyone else go, but there was something about these men that told them not to trust what they were saying.
Wyatt asked, "Do you think we can take them all out now?"
Flynn shrugged. "Maybe," he stated. "If we fire quickly, we might be able to get the upper hand, but one miss..."
Wyatt nodded, understanding the problem Flynn was about to explain. If just one bullet missed its mark, the men would have a chance to get behind cover, fire upon them, or flank their position. They couldn't take that risk with Lucy behind them.
"I'm open to suggestions," Wyatt admitted.
Flynn had opened his mouth to respond, but a voice spoke up behind them. "Where's my wife?"
Flynn and Wyatt turned to see Poe standing up, demanding answers from the four. They blinked at the brazen behavior of the poet. They turned their attention back to the four men before them.
Wyatt whispered, "This is a distraction in our favor."
They glanced at each other before Flynn and Wyatt began to move carefully to opposite ends of the cover, trying to flank the four men.
"Your wife is safe," one of the men replied.
"Safe where?" Poe demanded.
Flynn and Wyatt managed to get into position, patiently waiting for the opportunity to strike first.
The men seemed agitated by Poe's questions. The first man spoke up once more, "She's somewhere safe, I promise you."
"I want to see her!" Poe demanded.
Lucy glanced up at him. "What are you doing?" she hissed.
Poe shouted at the men, "I need to see her! I need to make sure that she's all right!"
"We have some of the best doctors treating her," the man shouted back. "There's no reason to get worked up. We told you we'd help you."
Poe shook his head, stepping towards the men with his hands raised defensively to show he was unarmed. "I want you to take me to her."
The first man groaned. "I don't have time for this." He raised his gun towards the famous poet. Wyatt and Flynn took the chance and opened fire upon the four men.
The men scattered. They dropped their torches, setting the fields ablaze. Lucy peered through her cover to see if she could make out any figures. She could hear the guns going off, but she couldn't see any one moving.
Rufus tried to get a better look, but every time he stuck his head up to look, a ricochet caused him to hunker back down to ride out the fight.
Flynn and Wyatt had managed to take out one man each when they had preemptively attacked the four. There were two still out there, unaccounted for. Flynn's eyes glanced about the fire-lit fields in search of the men. He couldn't find them.
Wyatt began to inch his way forward, careful not to be seen. A hand landed on his shoulder, gripping him tightly, lifting him to his feet.
Wyatt quickly turned, landing a blow to the man's throat before pushing the suited man away. The suited man held his throat for a brief moment before regaining his composure.
Without waiting for the man to attack first, Wyatt lunged at the man, knocking them both to the burning field. Wyatt balled his fist, connecting it with the man's face.
The man kicked Wyatt off of him. He scrambled to his hands and knees, grabbing a fistful of dirt to throw into Wyatt's face. Wyatt turned his head in time, but still managed to catch some debris in his eyes.
Blinking rapidly in hopes to dislodge the dirt from his eyes, Wyatt felt the man knock him off his feet. The suited man straddled Wyatt, choking him. Wyatt tried to knock the man off of himself, but failed. He couldn't get the man's grip to loosen. His already blurry vision started to darken. Wyatt could hear the panicked screams of Lucy fading with his hearing.
A faint echo of gunfire echoed inside Wyatt's ears. The man on top of him blinked a few times, seemingly surprised. The grip loosened around his neck. Blood began to pool down the man's lips before he fell next to Wyatt.
Coughing heavily as smoked-filled air filled his deprived lungs, Wyatt slowly sat up to see what had happened.
Standing a short few feet away was Edgar Allen Poe, still aiming the gun in his direction. Wyatt held Poe's eyes. He nodded his thanks to the man. He owed the man his life.
Poe lowered the gun and turned to the others as they approached. Flynn announced, "I couldn't find the other man. He's long gone."
"And we will be soon," Poe added. "If we don't leave this field soon."
The team, followed by Poe, left the burning field before any one came to the scene.
Once they were safe from the fields, Poe asked, "Do you have any ideas where they might have taken my wife?"
Lucy shook her head. "I don't know..."
Rufus muttered something under his breath that no one had been able to hear. Lucy turned to him, but he shook his head. She didn't press him on it.
Poe sighed. "Please, find her for me..."
Lucy gave him a sympathetic smile. "We'll do what we can."
"That's all I can hope for," Poe replied. He turned to Flynn. "Might I have a word with you?"
Flynn raised an eyebrow at the poet, but nodded. The two stepped aside to speak privately.
Rufus asked, "What do you think they're talking about?"
Lucy stared at the two as they spoke. "I don't know..." She began to wonder what Poe was telling Flynn. The more he spoke, the more Flynn's body language tightened up with anger. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
When they finished speaking, Flynn had become rigid and hardened. Lucy knew that the last time she saw him like this had been when they went back to save Karl Gruber and they talked about their families and Rittenhouse's involvement. She wondered if Poe had shared something with Flynn about the same thing.