Timeless: Godspeed, #3

By Michael Trinidad

Coming back from her second season, Sharon struggles to adapt to the life of being both a killer and a star. However, fitting in is going to be the least of her worries after the Developers experience their first major drop in ratings since Sharon started fighting and scramble to appease their investors.

 

In their lust for money, the Developers neglected to consider the human side of watching The Battle, and the emotional connection Sharon has forged with millions of viewers, many of whom refuse to watch or outright protest the show. However, the Developers' answer to that is simple. They must put Sharon in even greater danger so that a person of her experience has little chance of survival. Once the audience learns that the odds are against her and this could be her last season, they'll have no choice but to subscribe and watch.

 

It's a new show for Sharon this time around. Gone are the notions of fairness and even play. Instead, the Developers will do all they can to get her killed before the protests she sparked spiral out of control. And with the help of a lone individual sworn on getting revenge for Sharon's past deeds, the Developers may just get their wish.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CWT Studios
• Release date: Mar 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9798201916213

Michael Trinidad

Michael Trinidad has been writing for years, but decided to take the plunge into self publishing in 2015 with his first series titled Godspeed. Since publishing his first book, Michael has become addicted to the thought that others might enjoy his books the way he has enjoyed countless others. While he predominantly writes for the Young Adult market, he enjoys writing in a host of other genres, such as Science Fiction and Fantasy, and hopes to eventually spread into the world of Graphic Novels with his wife, Melissa.

Book preview

Chapter One

A blue and orange soccer ball bounces by me as I stumble to try and kick it back.

Oh come on, Sharon, my younger brother Kyle says with an exasperated sigh. It went right by you!

I jog and catch the ball as it bounces off the front of our house.

Well, I’m still a little sore, ok? I say, mimicking his tone. Besides. Maybe you guys have just gotten better.

Yeah, we’ve been practicing, my youngest brother James says.

I set the ball on the ground and kick it. Not hard enough for it to go flying by him, but hard enough to where he has to earn it if he wants to catch it. He does and he tries to dribble like Devin’s shown him before kicking it to his older brother.

You should call Devin, James says once he’s kicked the ball. That way, I can show him all of the new stuff we’ve learned.

A small ache shoots through my chest at the mention of his name. But I try to keep my voice even, as I remember how close I came to losing him only a week before.

It’s...still going to be some time before he can come out and play with you guys. Maybe even weeks.

But he can at least watch us, James replies. Kyle kicks the ball right then, which whizzes right by him.

Hey! I wasn’t ready! James shouts back.

Too bad, Kyle returns. Now you have to go get it.

Not out in the road, he’s not, I tell the pair as the ball bounces and then rolls into the street.

It rolls over the road and comes to a stop in a drainage ditch on the other side. That draws the attention of a small group of soldiers, who are on their afternoon foot patrol. The one that actually grabs it is Private First Class Rossio. I’ve come to get familiar with some of the soldiers stationed here, as they always pass by our houses at the same time, and the checkpoint they guard is only a few houses down from my own.

This belong to you guys? PFC Rossio asks as she holds the ball in one hand.

Little help? I ask with a smile on my face. She obliges us and sets the ball on the ground. She gives it a small kick, just hard enough to send it back to our yard so the boys can get it.

Thanks Miss Rossio! James calls.

No problem, she calls back with a smile and a wave.

The two other soldiers with her wave and go back to their conversation. But I keep my eye on them for a few more moments. I don’t know what rules they have to follow, but every time they pass my house, they always lower their guns so the barrels point to the ground. But not anywhere else. And sure enough, as soon as they’re clear of my house, each raises his or her battle rifle, continuing to chat and make their presence known.

Sharon! Kyle’s voice draws me back to the game. Hey, is anyone home?

I spin around to him. Ever since I returned from my first season, I’ve been having these spells where I just sort of zone out in thought. Way more than usual. And they’ve increased since I’ve returned from my second season. But I just shake my mind back into the game.

Yeah. Come on! I shout to him. Show me what you can do!

We play for a little bit longer before the side door screeches open, revealing Mom.

Dinner time, she calls.

Be there in a minute, I call back. I turn to the boys. All right, guys. Let’s pack it in for tonight.

They go and collect the other toys that were out here, but were forgotten due to our game of soccer. I watch them clean-up and a Humvee idles past our house. The soldiers offer a small wave and I return it. We’ve come to call that the dinnertime drive by and could practically set our watches to it, it happens so regularly. No more than two hours elapses between every drive by, and some, like the one at dinnertime, happen at the exact same time each day.

At first, it was just semi-regular drive-bys. But all that changed after that girl, whose name ended up being Starlet, tried to kill me during that whole prom fiasco. I do feel a lot safer with the military taking such an interest in our well-being, but the more I think about it, the more unsettling it becomes.

Sure, having armed soldiers keeping people away from my parents and the boys is awesome. But I’d feel better about it if the military wasn’t so...transparent in its attempts to assert its power and dominance. More soldiers arrive every day, to the point that Humvees are as common as contractor vans and work trucks. Combine that with the blatant use of propaganda all over the radio, TV, billboards, and such and it just rubs me the wrong way. Of course, it seems no one else really notices. But I’ve read about military regimes using the same tactics all throughout history, and this one is no exception.

Sharon! Kyle calls. Come on!

I come back down to Earth and head inside, focusing now on the next of my struggles. I want to spend time with my family just in case the worst happens and I die out there. But when I round the corner and see Dad, the only thing I want to do is run away. He’s just been so...quiet lately. More quiet than usual. But with the way I left home for my second season, I don’t blame him. It’s obvious he hates my decision to return to the show, but it was mine and mine alone to make. I still haven’t told them the real reason I went back. I doubt I ever will.

I turn my gaze down and sit next to Mom. I used to always sit next to Dad at the dinner table, and I know both of my parents notice the change. But...what can I do? Mom brings us a huge homemade lasagna and, while it’s good, it’s not as good as Dad usually makes. She tries to break the tension around the table, but all she gets is a few words of agreement from Dad and even less from me, as my mind starts to wander yet again.

I eventually finish my dinner and excuse myself to run a nice, warm bath after being outside all day with the boys. The hot water does wonders for my sore muscles. Most of the wounds I got from my last season of The Battle are healing nicely, but that’s going to leave my body with at least a half dozen additional scars. With more to come, no doubt. But with dinner and a bath done, I finally have an excuse to lock myself in my room, away from all of the...everything. Constant phone calls and attempted interviews. Budding military regimes. Flashbacks of me killing people and nearly dying. The stress of dealing with my parents and two young boys that don’t quite understand what I’m going through. And the thoughts of my next season just a few weeks away.

I usually read to quiet all of the thoughts in my head, and tonight is no exception. I grab my Apex, lying right next to Renny’s music player, and turn on the screen function. I find my place and read for a few hours before the boys come in, dressed in their pajamas, and give me goodnight hugs and kisses. After another hour or so, Dad’s knock comes from my door.

Come in, I say.

He opens the door and wheels part of the way in. We’re going to bed now, all right? he asks.

Sure.

Try to get some rest tonight, he tells me, meeting my eye.  I nod to him.

I’ll try. Goodnight.

Love you. Goodnight, he says.

Love you, too, I call back as he closes the door. So, they know I’ve been staying up really late. A few times I’ve been crying after having that recurring nightmare where Erin killed Renny. And at least once, I was just crying for no reason. I shake my head and let out a small sigh, feeling the sadness well up from that raw and sore spot deep within my chest. But as I begin struggling to keep all of those emotions from spilling out, Dad’s knock interrupts me again.

Yeah? I ask, trying to keep my voice as even as possible.

Dad opens the door and wheels next to my bed. In his lap is a small, brown box. He hands it to me. We forgot to give this to you, he says plainly.

I take it and notice the address. It’s that Connecticut address where all of my stuff from the show comes from. There’s an almost palpable pause between us before Dad mutters another goodnight and leaves. I read for another fifteen minutes before I actually open the box, just to make sure everyone is in bed.

It’s another preview copy of last season. My face is plastered right on the center of the disc. Clarissa is behind me and Sasha, of all people, is in the background too. This looks like the little summary disc since it’s been a little over a week since I’ve come back. These copies only last around two hours, and just go over the highlights of my last season. People are then supposed to buy the extra discs, which follow a specific group of people or, for the more expensive ones, follow the same person. My first time, I was the highest watched person in the show’s history, and I expect a similar outcome for this one. But with the likes of Clarissa and all of her friends there, I don’t know if I’ll be number one anymore. They did just as much, if not more than I did, on top of being orders of magnitude more beautiful than I’ll ever become.

Well, if I’m going to have nightmares tonight anyway, I might as well watch this. I set my digital bookmark and slide the disc in my mini disc player. The mini disk player can connect to my Apex, so I set it to display the movie on the wall like an old fashioned film projector. It looks all right, but the TV has a much better picture. Still, that’s all the way in the living room, and I’m supposed to be sleeping.

I prop up some pillows and the dramatic music begins to swell while my team runs for cover from The Twins. Each shell cracks open the earth and sends a tower of black smoke and sand at least fifteen feet into the air. It still amazes me, the insane power we dodged. Thankfully, no one was killed. Though they would be. Clarissa lost all three of her friends, only to have her life saved by me and Sasha.

The video continues, showing our epic fight at one of the center bases where they had the audacity to conscript the U.S.S Missouri to be one of their air strikes. We follow a few people on the other team as they chase me and I finally see the face of the guy who nearly killed me with mustard gas. Then we go back to my team and watch Clarissa lose two of her friends. I don’t turn away from those. The next few parts sort of go by really fast. I guess I zone out when watching them, having my own memories play instead of the video.

Eventually, it starts to wrap up with the invasion of the enemy command center and how that moron Jeff nearly ruined it by attacking too early. That action cost us dozens of lives, and it really seems like he did it on purpose just to spite me. I hope I never become like that, where I consider soldiers as objects instead of humans.

We eventually come to the closing moments of the show. I watch myself huddled down behind a fallen tree next to Sasha as Clarissa is in the process of nearly dying. I see the panic in Sasha’s eyes, a look I never thought I’d see, and a look I’ll never forget. We pop our heads up and at that point, the camera cuts to Mac Daddy, swooping in and saving us from a defeated enemy that continued to attack. The developers jokingly called it a technical issue with the radio frequency that’s supposed to shut off all of the weapons. Apparently it happens from time to time. Bet the audience loved it, though.

Then, the video cuts to some narration about the end of the battle and all of the "exciting releases to come in the future, including the coveted Forest Fox" edition that has previously unreleased footage of myself from the first season.

I can only imagine.

With the credits rolling, I begin to, once again, try and prepare for sleep. But I know it’s something I’m going to have to fight for tonight. I still have some of those pain pills left and they really helped me go to sleep after my first season. So, I decide to cheat and take one of those with the help of a cold can of Pepsi from the fridge. 

When I come back, the bonus features that play behind the credits are underway. Normally, there’s nothing really important here. And by important, I mean killing. Last season, it was a bunch of the kids and some of the sillier moments that happened between them and this one seems to be no different. But the scene playing right now still breaks my heart. Clarissa and Avery talk as though this were some kind of outing and they were going to live forever. Both seem to be in good spirits, in sharp defiance to the more vivid memory I have of Avery being shot to death and Clarissa nearly joining her.

I watch the two friends joke around for a few moments, and then the scene shifts to the one where Clarissa and I are digging our makeshift foxhole and talking about our lives a little bit more. I didn’t really pay attention to it the first time, but now that I’m out of danger and can process all of that information, I finally see how she tenses up when we start talking about the mayor she works for.

Then, my mind trails off to the conversation between her and Jordyn that I accidentally overheard. I begin to worry about her. Surely, she didn’t go back to him, especially if the shady stuff he was involved in was remotely close to the things those two hinted at. I turn to the clock. It’s just past 1 a.m. I feel like a call is out of the question, but I want to at least send her a text or something. Then I realize that I don’t have her number or her address. I spend a little time searching online for a way to contact her. There’s nothing out there, save for some social media page she has that was last updated the day she got drafted.

All her post contains is a link to The Battle’s official recruitment page and the words I’m scared with her emotional state being noted as nervous. I could send her a message, but who knows how long it would be before she checked her inbox.

Fortunately, seeing the recruitment page reminds me that I do have a way to contact her. And I have no problem calling this person in the middle of the night. In fact, I can tell her off at the same time like I’ve been planning to and kill two birds with one stone.

I speed dial Becky’s number. It rings three times, and I get a little satisfaction that I might’ve woken her up. But when she answers, her voice sounds as if she isn’t tired at all and hasn’t been to sleep yet.

Sharon? What’s up? she asks me.

Hey, I need you to do me a favor real fast, I tell her.

Sure.

First, go to hell for pulling my friends into my second season, I spit. And after you’ve done that, give me Clarissa’s phone number or something that I can contact her with.

She pauses for just a second. That's it? she asks.

That catches me a little off guard. Yeah, pretty much. Go to hell. Give me a friend’s number.

Sure you don’t wanna cuss me out further than that? she asks, her voice even and calm. Might make you feel better.

And I do really, really want to scream at this woman right now. But I swallow up all of that rage with a sigh and just keep it for later.

Oh, I most definitely want to. But it’s the middle of the night over here and my parents are already on my case about not getting enough sleep. And if I start yelling at you, I don’t know when I’ll stop. So, let’s just end that part of the conversation with the agreement that you’re one of the most horrible people on the planet, all right?

This time, she sighs. Look, Sharon. You know I didn’t have a choice. They were—

Not interested, I tell her.

You’re growing up, she says with a smile in her voice. And I have Clarissa’s number right here. But uh...now might not be a good time to call her. There’s a lot of shit going on up there.

What do you mean? I begin to grow even more concerned.

Well, I’m not supposed to talk about it, but she went and got herself in some serious trouble. She pauses for a moment, but continues when I don’t respond. Actually, now that I think about it, she could probably really use a friend right now. Go ahead and call her. Trust me, she’ll be awake.

Uh, sure... I say. The rage I had only a few moments ago is now gone, replaced with concern for one of my newest friends.

Becky recites her number and even gives me the number of the mayor’s office for good measure. I tell her good night and hang up, my mind wandering on what sort of trouble Becky was talking about.

I first decide to send Clarissa a text, just to make sure she’s really awake. About fifteen minutes pass and I don’t get an answer. That’s when I decide to just call her right then. Her phone rings six or so times before I’m connected with a generic voicemail. I leave a message, saying who I am and that I just wanted to see how she was doing, and then I hang up. I guess she really is asleep or something.

But something nags at me. What if she’s not all right? I sit in the relative darkness of my room for a few more minutes before I work up the courage to call her again. This time, she answers after the third ring.

Hey, Sharon, she answers with a sniff. Her voice breaks and I hear her muffle a small sob.

Clarissa? Is...is everything all right. I uh...I just had to—

No, no, she sniffs again. Everything is fine. Just...a lot of shit to deal with, you know?

Yeah... I return, at a loss.

So, listen, she begins, trying to regain her composure. I gotta go. I’m uh...really busy up here. But everything is fine. I...I know it doesn’t quite sound like it but...

No, it’s ok. I understand, I return. I’ll uh...catch you later then.

S-sure, she sniffs.

Call me anytime, I tell her. I mean that.

I will, thanks. Good night.

’Night, I say. She hangs up. And I’m left to wonder what in the world is going on that she can’t talk about. Part of me worries that something really, really bad is happening up there, between her and the mayor. But then I realize that Becky knows what’s going on as well, and I’m sure if it was that bad, the Devs would’ve stepped in, if only to protect one of their most famous investments.

I turn off the rest of the lights in my room and lay down. Those pain pills hit me soon after, and I have the closest thing to a good night’s sleep I think I can  have, with so much stuff going on and so many new worries added to my long list of old ones.

I get a late start the next morning. Those pills tend to make me sleep in, and they leave me feeling groggy for several hours longer. But through the haze, my first thoughts go to the conversations I had last night. I check my cell phone, hoping Clarissa sent me a text or something that explained what was going on. But there’s nothing there. I resist the urge to call or text again, deciding that she might need a day or so to overcome whatever’s happening right now.

With that still in my mind, I head into the living room to meet up with the rest of my family. The boys are playing with one of their new racetrack toys Mom found inside the big store that’s set to open up in the next two months. It’s going to sell stuff like clothes and electronics, but the only part that’s open is the grocery section and a small part stocked with toys. However, what I notice next makes me pause, as if I didn’t already have too much on my mind.

Behind the boys, their Saturday morning cartoons cut away to go to commercials. And, of course, the commercial is advertising my second season. The explosions and music are enough, and I stare at the TV, like a moth drawn to a flame.

Change the channel, stupid! Kyle orders his brother. Sharon’s here.

Oh! James gasps. He snags the remote and changes the channel. And I’m not stupid!

Yes you are, Kyle whispers back. And their argument is enough to bring me back down to Earth.

No he’s not, I tell him with a stern voice. And...don’t worry about the commercials. They don’t bother me.

But Mom and Dad said they did, Kyle says.

Well, they’re just trying to protect me. But it’s no excuse for calling your brother names.

Sorry... Kyle turns to James and says with a roll of his eyes.

I don’t feel like dealing out any more discipline right now, so I accept it and head into the kitchen. Looks like everyone’s already had breakfast and followed my mandate of not waiting up for me, since there’s really no telling when I’m going to come out to eat. And thankfully, neither Mom nor Dad seem to be present at the moment.

Relieved that I don’t have to deal with them, at least for a few more minutes, I grab some Pop Tarts and join the boys in watching TV. However, Dad does eventually show up. Our eyes meet briefly and he gives me his traditional good morning greeting and hug. But the amount of tension his presence causes is palpable, and I decide to retreat to my room once I finish my meager breakfast. But before I’m done, Dad does begin speaking to me, almost casually.

Your mother is out tending the garden again, Dad says. It’d be a shame to let all that good food go to waste, huh?

Yeah really, I return.

Now I feel bad for not taking care of it these past few weeks. Sure, I was struggling for survival for many of those weeks, but tending a garden might help calm my nerves as it does with other people. Besides, school is over for the summer and I really don’t have an excuse not to.

I finish my Pop Tarts as fast as I can without looking like I’m doing it on purpose and stand up to go hide in my room. But then Mom shows up with a small plastic bag full of vegetables. She shows them off to us and I thank her, but she at least looks like she enjoyed going out there. So that makes me feel a little better.

When she returns to the kitchen to put everything in the fridge is when I see my chance to escape. But in an odd twist, my phone rings and gives me the perfect excuse to hide. I pull it out and meet Dad’s eye. I point to my room and he nods.

Hello? I ask the unfamiliar number.

Hey, Share, comes Clarissa’s voice. I must’ve forgotten to program her number into my phone.

Oh, hey, Clarissa, I say to her. You’re uh...sounding a bit better.

Yeah, she sighs, although she seems really distant right now, like she didn’t really hear what