Part of Tully Pettigrew wanted to take a break, it was hot, and no hiker worth their salt was out in these temperatures and humidity...which meant she was on the lookout for moron tourists who hadn't packed their common sense when they'd dragged along an entire REI store. On the other hand, the sooner she finished her circuit of this hiking path, the sooner she'd make it back to her cabin and the air conditioning.

She paused, glancing out at the hills just past the ridge, and took another step and stumbled as her boot hit rocks and sand that hadn't been there just a few minutes before. Lifting her head and turning, the hills, trees, and sweltering heat of Kentucky had become….desert. As far as she could see, sand and rocks, and the too-bright blue sky above.

Kicking the sand, she watched it cling to her boots and kick into the air

"What?"

This wasn't dirt, rock, or the timber they laid down on the muddier paths. This was...this was a desert! What was she doing in a desert?

"What in the hell?" She looked around again and felt automatically for her back pocket where her phone was generally stored. It was still there and when she unlocked the screen...there was nothing. No data and no service. Nothing.

Even in the middle of the park, she'd had something like spotty service, but this was barren...maybe it was because she was in the middle of the desert?

How had she ended up in the desert?

What was she doing in the desert?

Glancing back and around, she finally noticed the tracks in the ground. Tire tracks and something like tire tracks...and they were deep too.

"Huh," she jerked around as her small canyon was filled with the sounds of trucks and vehicles. It sounded like a lot, and she sprinted for cover. True, she wasn't in Kentucky anymore and until she had a handle on the situation she wasn't going to go inviting trouble. She ducked behind a series of rocks just large enough to cram her body into a crevice while letting her keep her attention on the people below.

What she saw was...well it was something out of an old movie or a show. Military vehicles she couldn't name or identify, painted in yellow and brown with the most prominent emblem displayed being a palm tree over a thick, black swastika.

"Oh fuck," she whispered, as the tanks and vehicles continued to rumble past

This was bad...bad...and extra bad.

Checking to make sure she couldn't be seen, Tully hunkered down as her heart hammered painfully in her chest. She felt sick, terrified, and horrified all at once. It didn't seem...possible?

How could she be in the desert….80-ish years in the past?

She leaned back against the rock and wondered when the hell she'd fallen into the twilight zone.

#$#$#4

Isshiki Troy-Agawa was on his way to the training rooms when he felt the world around him shift and instead of the calming hum of distant birds, animals bellowing, and the wind through the wheat field, he heard nothing.

Opening his eyes he found himself staring at a wide expanse of desert. Instead of the wooden path beneath his feet, there were rocks and sand, and he seriously considered freaking out before taking another breath and banishing the notion.

Whatever had happened didn't mean he was allowed to panic. He couldn't panic. He had a long tradition of not panicking.

He had a feeling he was out of place, definitely not in Kansas anymore, and wearing his traditional clothes in anticipation of his uncle's visit.

Still, he tried to shake the sand out of his sleeves and continued walking. The desert wasn't all that interesting when you were walking alone, without food or water, and when you didn't have any idea of where you were going. Only years of training kept him from having a meltdown and even then, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice called.

"HALT!" He didn't pause, the voice was American and the language was English. "Hey!" Isshiki paused as a man appeared from behind a boulder, an impressively large weapon in his hand and a scowl on his face and stepping right in front of him, scowling.

"Good Afternoon," he tried in Japanese, looking as calm as possible as he took in the GI's uniform. A GI's uniform….from WW2….from…. shit . Sidestepping the man, he was only partly surprised when they sidestepped right in front of him. "Excuse me. "

"Sarge," the one on the right piped up, "I don't think he speaks English!"

"I do speak English," Isshiki continued in Japanese, "you don't speak Japanese." He stared at the uniforms and felt even more unsettled as a third man appeared also in a world war two era uniform. "I think I'm in trouble."

"Who is he?" The man on the left asked,

"No idea." The third man was shorter than the others, tanned with bright blue eyes and jet-black hair and a hat perched on his head that Isshiki recognized. The face was 70 years younger than the last time the young man had seen it but Sam Troy was familiar as ever. Isshiki should know, he knew his great-grandfather very well.

"Hmm," Isshiki knew his great-grandfather as a gentle, honest man whose Japanese was bad enough to be passable and funny...but right now it seemed he had stumbled over the man in the middle of his military career. Given what he knew about the tensions against Japanese Americans during the second world war, he was both nervous and terrified and a little thrilled. Bowing to the appropriate depth to greet his great-grandfather, Isshiki was a little nervous as he said. "Good Afternoon, Great-Grandfather. I am Isshiki," still in Japanese.

"You don't speak English do you?" His Great-Grandfather asked, and Isshiki didn't reply. "What's your name?" He sighed, "Name?"

"Cowboy," he supplied in English, taking the men by surprise.

"Sarge, are you a cowboy?" The man on the right asked.

"Troy," his great-grandfather sighed, tapping his own chest. "Sam Troy."

"Cowboy Sam Troy," Isshiki echoed and smiled. "Isshiki," he gestured to himself.

"Issh..ish…"

"Isshiki," he repeated slowly, staring into his great-grandfather's eyes. The man was squinting at him and faithfully repeated his name syllable for syllable. Pleased, the young man nodded. "Well...his name is Isshiki, what is he doing here?"

"Maybe he's confused?"

"Maybe it's a new thing with the Japs and the Germans," the man in the red had suggested, "he's all dressed up like that?"

"Could be, but they wouldn't put him out here and leave him walking alone unless he got lost and confused. We need to get him off the road." He gestured and Isshiki was torn between obeying and running for the hills. There was no telling what might happen if he went with him, and Isshiki still had no idea what the hell was going on or what he was doing in the middle of the desert when a few minutes ago he had been on a walk in Wyoming.

"No," he stepped back and whirled around as a fourth man appeared. A tall man with black hair, blue eyes, and an English uniform.

"Ah," he was definitely in trouble.

#$#$34

Helen Moffit had fallen asleep in the shade of an oak tree, her pack secured between her knees and her face shadowed with a gardening hat. It had been a long, busy day at the university, and the only thing she wanted to do was relax.

"Hey!" A voice roused her from her sleep. An American voice? Opening her eyes, she found herself not in the back garden...but in the desert? An American was standing over her, he was dressed for hot weather and looked confused as she felt. "Are you dead?"

"Are you?" She asked, jumping upright. "Where are we?"

"Hell, I think," the American said wearily, "I don't think we're dead, but did you just...wake up to find yourself in the desert?"

"Yes? Did you?"

"Sure did, fell asleep in the middle of the apple orchard and the next thing I know I'm waking up in the middle of a fucking desert, excuse my French."

"Certainly," she glanced around. "Who are you?"

"Uh, Miles Merry," he held out a hand. "You?"

"Helen Moffit."

"Oh, nice."

"So, Mr. Merry...do you know where we are?"

"Not a clue. Only thing I've seen for miles around is sand and rocks." He looked disgusted. "Have you got any water on you?"

"Not a drop," she said slowly, "Oh, dear."

"Huh...we're fucked if we're not dead and this is some sort of purgatory."

"We are...certainly in trouble." She agreed and squinted at the sun overhead.