A Moment of Clarity

“Multiple reports of gunfire coming from the 9200 block of Hancock Avenue.” The dispatcher’s voice almost screamed.

Detective Hal Knibbs picked up his handset. “Unit three responding.” He set the red light on the top of his unmarked car, turned on the sirens, and raced toward the scene. When he arrived, patrol cars had the whole block cordoned off. He stepped out of his car and pulled out his gun. Trotting over to the sergeant while keeping his head down, he asked. “What’s the situation?”

“Gunfire has stopped. It’s this building.” Knibbs gazed over at the nondescript three-story grey cement building. Several windows on the top floor were broken. “The witnesses report mayhem on the third floor. Just waiting for SWAT to come in. They are tied up at another scene,” the sergeant reported.

“I have tactical entry training. I can lead a team in there. We don’t want anyone bleeding out while we sit here.”

“Go.” The sergeant pointed to the building. He motioned to several of his officers to go in support.

Knibbs raced across the grass in front of the building. He lined up against the wall and motioned for two officers to enter. When they did, they signaled all clear. Knibbs and four officers climbed the first set of stairs and secured that area. When six more officers made their way up there, the group climbed the second set of stairs. The other doors were closed, but one lay open, broken and shattered.

Signaling two officers to take the right and another to take the left, they rushed in. Three bodies lay in front of them. Knibbs turned the corner to see a man sitting in a chair with a bleeding wrist, his arms raised.

Four men lay dead at the man’s feet. When Knibbs turned into the kitchen, he found two more dead.

An officer came out of the back. “Clear, but we have three more bodies.” He pointed. “This door is padlocked.”

“I’d be very careful entering in there,” the man in the chair said.

Knibbs ignored him. Two officers pointed their guns at the door while Knibbs kicked it down.

“It’s only wires and Play-Doh-like stuff in here,” an officer said.

“Clear the building,” Knibbs yelled. “Call the bomb squad. Everyone out, clear the downstairs apartments, too. Nobody stays in the building.”

He grabbed the good arm of the man sitting in the chair. “Don’t handcuff me, please. It would be excruciating. I just got shot.”

Knibbs scowled at him, but led him down and out of the building. “How much C-4 explosives are in there?”

“Enough to flatten City Hall,” the man replied.

Creasing his forehead, Knibbs took him to a patrol car. “Check him for weapons and then handcuff his good arm to the back of his belt. Take him to the hospital to get checked out.”

“Yes, Sir.” The officer frisked the man and then sat him in the back of the patrol car. The man had no ID or anything in his pockets. The officer opened up his notepad. “What’s your name?”

“James Teel.”

“Really? Huh, I’m Officer Teel, and I have a son named James.”

“Little Jimmy is a good kid. You should restore his allowance. He didn’t mean to break that window.” The man grinned at the officer’s confusion. “But I can’t say he won’t do it again, especially after today.” He laughed at his own joke as he looked up at the third floor.

Officer Teel shook his head. “Not funny.” He drove to the hospital.

Knibbs walked back over to the sergeant. “What a mess.”

“Bomb squad has cleared the crime scene. You can go back in. What does it look like in there?”

“Guns and dead bodies all over the place. Thirteen killed and one wounded. I don’t know if the wounded man is a good guy or a bad guy. We have him in custody so we’ll find out.”

“I don’t envy your investigation,” the sergeant replied.

Knibbs made his way back upstairs. The crime scene investigators were processing the apartment. Knibbs gazed down at each of the dead men one by one. It was something he always did to try and figure out what they were feeling when they were killed. Most of them had a look of surprise, but the one in the kitchen seemed angry. Knibbs could only guess at their emotions, but it served him well.

The crime scene tech came up to him. “Most of the guns are across the room from the victims. Only one of them had gunshot residue on his hands. He only shot three times before they killed him according to all the bullets left in his clip. The others were ambushed, but he fought back. All the guns have the serial numbers filed off, except for the one in the corner. The worst thing is, I think that it has a police serial number on it. I’ll have to check our database and see if it’s one of ours.”

“That’s interesting. We can’t trace the guns then.”

“No. We’ll run ballistics on them and see if any of them have been used in the commission of a felony, but that’s a very long shot.”

“Thank you.” Knibbs gave a sideways glance at the man at his feet with a very surprised expression. “What do you think these men were up to?”

“No good. We found blueprints of our City Hall building. They had red X’s on the foundation in several places.”

“City Hall?” he creased his forehead. “Could the explosives they have leveled City Hall?”

“Easily.” Someone called over to the tech, and he left Knibbs standing there. Knibbs headed downstairs and then back to the police station. When he entered, he asked the sergeant if the man they arrested was back from the hospital yet.

“He’s in interview room one. He won’t talk to anyone but you.”

Knibbs creased his forehead. “How does he know me?”

“He didn’t say, but he asked for you by your full name. He also claims to be James Teel, which is Officer Teel’s son’s name.”

“He seems to know a lot about us. Are his prints in the system?”

“No, but he had a lot of gunshot residue on his hands. He’s a shooter.”

Nodding, Knibbs said, “He might have stolen one of our guns, too.” Walking into the interview room, Knibbs sat down across from James. “You’re in a lot of trouble. Let's start with the truth. What is your real name?”

“James Andrew Teel. You can call me Jim.”

“Hmm, you’re going with that?”

“It’s all I got.”

“Fine, birth date?”

“August 6th, 2013.”

Knibbs glared at him. “Why are you playing games with me? That would make you twelve years old.”

“Actually, eleven. I won’t turn twelve in this timeline for a month.”

“This timeline? What do you mean by this timeline?”

“That one’s going to be a lot harder to explain.”

Teel knocked on the door, so Knibbs left Jim sitting there and went out into the hall. “What’s going on?”

“I just came back from the hospital. They said his wound had glass and what looks like titanium in it, like he was wearing a watch that the bullet smashed into.”

“I see, thank you.” He went to go back into the interview room, but then stopped and asked, “What’s your son’s middle name?”

“Andrew.”

“What’s his birthday?”

“August 6th, 2013. Why?”

“This clown is claiming to be your son.”

“I heard. The thing that is really creeping me out is, he knows details about my family that we haven’t told anyone.”

“I’ll get to the bottom of this.” Knibbs walked back into the room. “Are you still going with the ‘I’m an eleven-year-old’ story?”

“I never said I was an eleven-year-old. I’m twenty-four, but I’ll be twenty-five in a month.”

“Then how could you have been born in 2013?”

“I’m not from this timeline. I’m from a different timeline, twenty-one years in the future.”

Knibbs leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. “Right, you’re a time traveler.”

“I told you it was going to be difficult to explain.”

“Let’s try this. Why did you break into the apartment and shoot all those men?”

“Orders.”

Folding his arms, Knibbs asked. “Who ordered you to do it?”

“You did.”

Knibbs stared at him for a minute. “I did?”

“Different timeline. You are a captain in my timeline. You ordered our unit to take out the group of terrorists. You even came along with us. The rest made it out, but my chronometer took a bullet. I couldn’t use it to get back to my timeline.”

Knibbs gazed at Jim’s bandaged wrist and then shook his head. “Why would I order you to kill all those men?”

“They would have blown up City Hall a few days from now and then surrounded the building. They would kill anyone trying to get in or out. One hundred and ten people would have died, including seventeen officers and one court reporter named Susan Knibbs.”

A chill went up the detective’s back. “I need a break.” He stepped out of the door.

The sergeant came up to him. “Is everything okay?”

“This guy knows all about us. He knows who my wife is and Officer Teel’s son is. This is so strange.”

“It gets worse. The gun we found with a serial number on it?”

“Yes?”

“It is a police serial number. We contacted the manufacturer. The serial number hasn’t been used yet.”

“That’s it.” Knibbs stomped back into the interview room. “Who are you really?”

“Officer Teel of the anti-terrorism task force.”

“I see. Where is this, what did you call it, chronometer?”

“We aren’t allowed to bring future technology into the past except for the chronometer. It was damaged beyond repair. I flushed it down the toilet. The gun wasn’t going to fit down the toilet, so I put it against the wall. It’s the same model you use now, so no new technology.”

“How many of these men did you kill?”

“I killed three. One of those at the front door, and the two in the kitchen. You killed two at the front door, and the rest of them killed the others. The guy in the kitchen is the only one who shot back.”

“You just admitted to murder.”

Jim shrugged. “I won’t be here long.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my timeline. You won’t let me rot in the past.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Not this you, the other you.” Jim smiled.

Knibbs opened the door. “Take him to a cell.”

Not believing all the things he had just heard, Knibbs took a walk in the park to settle his mind. I ordered the murder of thirteen men? I would never do that. Where did he get the gun?

All the unanswered questions upset his stomach. He walked across the street and bought a milkshake. When he sat down, a man in a uniform sat across from him. “Hello, Hal.”

He looked up at the man with captain’s bars on his shoulder. His nametag read Knibbs.

“Who are you?”

“I’m you.”

He shook his head. “Another nut case?”

The man scowled. “I want you to take a long, hard look at Susan when you get home. I’ve had to live without her for twenty-one years. The technology came along. I used it in a moment of clarity. Now, because of me, you’ll have her next to you for years to come.”

Knibbs swallowed. “How can any of this be true?”

“I’ll let you figure that out. I need my man back. If I walk into the police station, they are going to realize that I’m not their captain yet. You, they won’t blink an eye if you walk in and talk to Jim.” The captain slid what looked like a watch over to Knibbs. “Give this to Jim from me.”

Am I really thinking about doing this? He picked up the chronometer. He thought about his wife, Susan. “I will.” Then he made eye contact with the captain. “Thank you for saving her.”