Travelers

By Meradeth Houston

Sienna Crenshaw knows the rules: 1) no time traveling beyond your natural lifetime, 2) no screwing with death, and 3) no changing the past. Ever. Sienna doesn’t love being stuck in the present, but she’s not the type to to break the rules. That is, she wasn’t the type until her best friend broke every one of those rules to keep Henry, her twin brother and Sienna’s ex-boyfriend, alive.

Suddenly, Sienna is caught in an unfamiliar reality. The upside? Henry is still alive. The downside? Sienna’s old life, including the people in it, has been erased. Now, Sienna and Henry must untangle the giant knot in time, or her parents and all the rest of the Travelers, will be lost forever. One problem: the only way to be successful is for Henry to die.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9780986191091

Book preview

Author

Chapter One

The memories flashing through my mind were not my own. I recognized them, but they weren’t familiar. Like old photographs, the colors muted to sepia tones, worn around the edges. It wasn’t really me in any of them.

I knew one thing for sure—the time-travel that dumped me here had not been my doing.

The place, I could identify. I would know the musty smell of rotting hay in my grandfather’s barn no matter where, or when, I was. Sunlight streamed through the chinks between the rough boards behind me and caught the swirling dust in its rays.

When I stepped out of the shadows, I noticed a man sprawled out in one of the stalls. I edged forward, each step carefully placed, though something told me he couldn’t hear me. As I stood over his prostrate form, I realized why he remained so still. A small hole pierced his shirt, oozing blood that pooled onto the bare earth below him.

My knees gave out, and my hands hit the ground. I winced against the sudden pain. Burns on my fingers started to blister and throb with every heartbeat, but I had no idea how I’d gotten them.

No, that wasn’t true. I looked to where I’d stood before and saw a muzzle in the dust. I’d held the gun. I’d pulled the trigger. Heat from the old-fashioned weapon had seared my hands.

I fought to remember why—the memories were sticky and unwilling to reveal their secrets. I killed him. I knew his face now. Henry. My best friend’s twin.

My ex-boyfriend. Dead ex-boyfriend. There’d been a reason too; I’d shot him to keep the time-line from getting knotted. He was supposed to die, to keep the Traveler rules intact. I had to—the Travelers made me do it.

I didn’t need the ability to leap through time to know I’d need some serious therapy over this one.

Already, the fact that I’d killed Henry stuck like glue in my mind. The other truth—that Henry had died a year ago—faded to a translucent image, like some imaginary scenario I half remembered from a dream. I’d gone to his funeral. I’d mourned with his sister, and I’d felt his loss every single day since. All of that grief washed away as the horror of what I’d done here, in this new reality, replaced it.

The two timelines crashed in my mind. Even worse, they could both be true if someone had played with time. Changing the past tilted the present to reflect what happened, forcing everyone into a new reality. I hadn’t created the changes that sent me here, and I wouldn’t get to keep the memories of my previous life. Only the person who shifted the old reality to this new one would get to remember what it had been like before. How long before I forgot my past? That I hadn’t been the one to kill Henry? A minute—less?

I wouldn’t remember Henry and my first kiss or the time we’d snuck out of school and spent the afternoon wandering around London. I’d be stuck as a murderess.

The truth of my current situation had not yet settle in my mind when a familiar tugging sensation started below my heart. That pull could only mean one thing—another change had been made somewhere in time. As my body prepared to be yanked into a new timeline, I sighed with relief and ended up blowing my bangs off my forehead. I did not want to stick around here any longer than I had to.

I didn’t fight against the Travel. Instead, I went with the swirling darkness and prayed I would end up someplace familiar.

The next moment, everything felt fuzzy, and reality seemed like it might be permeable. It was almost as if I tried hard enough, maybe I could shift everything around me into an ornate palace or the beach in Maui. I blinked like I had mascara in my eyes. To my surprise, I found myself in history class, fighting off the fog of the shift.

As I watched Mr. Jefferies, my middle-aged teacher with glasses bigger than his head, drone on, I wished I’d tried harder to appear somewhere with an ocean view. Not that it would have done anything to change where I now sat, but a sea breeze and fruity drink might have made history a whole lot nicer. At least I’d returned to my regular timeline, with no post-change haze stealing memories or creating new ones. I knew for a fact I’d come back to the correct point in time because I remembered everything that had happened before, during, and after the Travel. A funny urge to kiss my desk welled up inside of me. I’d never been so happy to see the old, worn wooden table top with the words School Sux written on it.

I glanced around, half-expecting my fellow classmates to react to my latest disappearance, but they were all hunched over their desks, absorbed in one of Jefferies’ infamous tests. No one had noticed the blip in time. Not that they would have. They were Normals. I was the only Traveler in the room. How did they handle this world when it was all so linear? But still, that had been massive. How could so many people not feel it?

A rash of goose bumps crawled up my arm. Someone had created a pocket on a closed loop and erased my last Travel. No one saw me leave because I’d never actually left.

I decided to pick the brains of the rest of the Travelers later. Maybe they knew something. Or more likely, my best friend Joan knew something. Out of everyone, she had the latest dirt from the elders in our community, and I’d perfected the art of getting information out of her.

And it wasn’t as though stuff like this happened often. No one messed with time anymore. Not since the treaties left us living more and more like Normals.

As a last resort, my dad might clue me in, if I got lucky. My parents never gave me much information when it came to Traveler politics, but they might make an exception given today’s events.

Intending on completing your exam, Miss Crenshaw? My teacher, his comb-over grating on me worse than his patterned shirt and plaid pants, leaned over my desk so his nose almost touched mine.

He desperately needed dental work. And gum.

Yeah. Yeah, of course. I forced a grin and hoped he didn’t notice the way my hands shook a little.

While balancing my pencil in my fingers, I studied my palms. Whole and unblistered. Technically, I didn’t kill Henry. That pocket never happened, not really. But the truth couldn’t stop the ache in my chest as I remembered him lying there.

Dead. Again. And I had killed him this time. Even if I’d done it because of Traveler rules, it still hurt. Just like it hurt in this reality. I missed him every single day. The loss of him had settled behind my heart like a stone, a sharp and constant reminder that no matter what I did, there was no way I could’ve saved him.

Chapter Two

I twisted the delicate bracelet on my wrist until it cut into my skin. I hated it, this dog leash that kept me from Traveling freely. I longed to remove it, but the guy who put it on me said it would take a blowtorch to get it off. Since I still hadn’t figured out how to do that without burning my hand off, I wore the thing and bugged my parents about it.

Not that today looked particularly good for winning that battle.

My front door loomed before me. I paused, knowing what waited on the other side. My failed test weighed down my bag. My teacher had made a phone call home for this one. I hadn’t exactly flunked the class, but a D- was lower than my usual C’s.

If the bracelet came off, I could fix these bad grades in a snap. I could transform my average C’s into shiny A’s and wind up in a college of my choosing, as my dad put it. But my inability to travel freely, without my parents’ snooping, kept all those dreams from coming true. What was the point of being born a time-traveler if I couldn’t at least change my answers on a crappy history test?

That logic wouldn’t fly with Dad though. His motto about living a normal, fulfilling life crept into every lecture. Whenever he started, I had to stifle an eye roll and yawn. All that blah, blah, blah translated into lead a boring life and don’t use your natural abilities to their full potential. At least, that’s what I heard when he started in. I thought that was stupid. He thought it was honorable. I kept my opinions to myself.

I blew out a heavy sigh, which sent my bangs flying. Again. Why did I bother with the flat iron when my own habits undid my hard work? I took the steps two at a time, no sense in delaying the inevitable. My parents were going to yell, and nothing could change that. I opened the door, doing my best to be as silent as possible. If I got really lucky, I might make it upstairs before they realized I’d arrived.

The bad news: Mom waited for me in the foyer. The good news: she looked relieved.

What took you so long? She rushed to my side and patted me all over like she needed to make sure I didn’t have blood spurting from any injuries. I hid my grimace and hugged her to get her to stop.

I had to drive home. I held up my wrist and wiggled my bracelet. It caught the light. If you’d remove my shackle, I’d be able to pop on home like any other Traveler. It’s pretty embarrassing to be the only Traveling teen who still drives.

My mom frowned. Her brow creased in that familiar way, and I could practically hear her saying It’s for your own good.

Instead, she ignored my comments, smoothed my hair down, and planted a kiss on my forehead. I was so worried.

About what? I ducked away from her. You know I’m fine. I’m not due to die for another eighty-seven years.

She scowled. I hated that expression she got when I discussed taboo topics like death-dates. I’d known when I would die since I turned eight years old. But adult Travelers always turned up their noses when I mentioned how I’d kick the bucket, like I’d just discussed my bathroom habits or something.

She shook her head, closed her eyes, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Today’s shift… She turned and glanced at my father.

He stood from his perch on the living room couch and crossed the room to wrap an arm around my shoulders. It was a bad one.

I shivered and glanced down at my palms, half expecting them to be covered with blisters. Nope, normal as ever. Not that it did anything to stop the gnawing ache in my chest.

Yeah, it was intense. I wondered if I could blame my failed test on this afternoon’s random time-shift. Given the worried glances shooting between them, I calculated a higher than normal chance of success. Instead of going for the kill shot right away, I decided to keep on this path a while longer, just to up the ante. Did the Committee figure out what caused my time-shift?

My parents exchanged one of those glances that seemed to communicate a ton of information they hoped I wouldn’t clue in on. Yeah. They caught Cyrus going back too far. When we got back to the normal timeline and could all remember what happened, it wasn’t hard for the Committee to track him down. My father’s expression turned to stone, and he settled back down on our giant leather couch.

Dropping my test-heavy bag by the door, I ignored the weary eye-roll from my neat-freak mom and kicked off my heels. Padding across the plush carpet, I sank into my favorite spot in the suede armchair.

I didn’t like watching this timeline fade out, forgetting everything, I admitted. It still freaked me out, even with my memories intact now. I would have lost them all if we’d remained stuck in the pocket.

My mom opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off before she asked any uncomfortable questions—particularly ones related to shooting my dead boyfriend. So what’s going to happen to Cyrus?

My mother took a shaky breath. They’re going to cuff him.

I froze in my seat, gripping the cushions like they were some kind of floatation device. Cuff him? Just for going back past his lifetime?

While my silver band acted as a GPS tracker when I Traveled, Cyrus’ cuff would prevent him from Traveling at all. For him, time would become linear, just like the Normals saw it. The idea terrified me.

I must have looked as freaked out as I felt because Mom perched on the arm of my chair and hugged me. We know how much you hate wearing that bracelet, Sienna, but it really is for your protection. Time travel is dangerous and has serious consequences. Cyrus found that out the hard way.

Henry’s face, contorted in death, floated through my mind. His eyes had been shut so I couldn’t see their perfect shade of green one last time. Dangerous—what an understatement. For a brief moment—a very brief moment—I appreciated my piece of jewelry and my parents’ protection. Even if it meant I had to live with that D- on my history test.

My father snorted. Come on, Cyrus didn’t learn a damned thing. He swears he was framed.

You know I have no great love for Cyrus, but being cuffed… She shook her head. Of course he’d say whatever he could for the chance to Travel again. Mom smoothed down my bangs. I tensed, sensing the real reason for this little family gathering.

You need to be extra careful. We don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want to see you get into something—

Especially when you’re failing history. Dad frowned.

So…I wasn’t going to get away with my bad grade. As I debated the best way to get out of the coming argument, my mother jumped in and ruined any chance I had at escape.

History is one class you should find helpful, and you can’t take it seriously. She sniffed and twisted her mouth into a grimace.

I’m sorry. I lowered my head and told myself to stop there. But my mouth continued on without approval from my brain. Anyway, it’s not like I’ll actually ever get to Travel to see any of this stuff.

The fiery glare in Mom’s eyes made me wish I could time-travel and take back my comment. Sienna Crenshaw, just because you can’t Travel past your lifetime doesn’t mean you shouldn’t appreciate and understand the complexities of how we got here.

And off she went. I’d memorized this argument years ago. The past changes the future, all timelines interconnect and affect one another. Blah, blah, blah. Being restricted to my own lifetime—I’d like to punch the Traveler who created that rule—reduce me to little more than a fortune-teller. Sure, I could guarantee that I didn’t screw up a future job interview, but I’d never get to do any of the cool stuff my ancestors accomplished. Like Travel back and meet famous people, go to all the best concerts, or make sure big crappy stuff didn’t happen. If I met Monet, would the course of the world be changed? No. And one more person at Woodstock certainly wouldn’t make a difference. Not even my parents could argue that World War II made the world a better place. If it weren’t for all the Travelers’ rules, I could make the most out of this time traveling gift. But yeah… I yanked at my bracelet again.

So you’ll try harder in history? Mom’s voice interrupted my musings.

Mmm-hmm. My brain spun on the idea of receiving