Out Of Time

- Out Of Time -

Kyle sat down hard on the roadside bench. He instinctively reached into his pocket and pulled out the timer. It was never far from his grasp, but for some reason today it felt heavier. He looked down at the digital readout.

1 minute 30 seconds.

He pulled at the thick rubber material of his trench coat. It was hot, and it looked ridiculous, but it was necessary for the job Kyle was about to do. He had only been here for a few seconds, but he was already sweating in the afternoon sun.

Man, I look so out of place. Hopefully, I won't be here long enough to draw attention.

He glanced up from the timer as he examined his surroundings. Beautiful houses with clean-cut lawns lined the street; clearly an upscale neighborhood, its predictable stillness palpable. He chuckled as he noted the white picket fence a few doors down from where he sat, the symbol of safety and stability. It was somewhere that anyone would love to live.

But not Kyle.

Two-way street, one car parked 100 yards to the east. The houses across the street don't have any surveillance cameras; there's one Ring doorbell a couple of doors down, but a bush obscures the view from here.

Kyle glanced to his left.

There's the intersection, not 20 feet from here. The bushes behind me are dense; it will make a great place to hide. This is the perfect spot.

The timer continued its countdown. Kyle sighed deeply as he looked at the numbers.

1 minute 10 seconds. This is taking forever.

His head nodded subtly as the seconds ticked by.

He put the timer back in his pocket and bounced his leg on the ground. His fingers nervously drummed the seat of the bench.

This is a 10-second job. A monkey could do it. I can't believe they sent me. Like using a shotgun to kill a fly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement to his right. He went still and turned his head slowly, careful not to arouse suspicion.

About 100 yards away, a young girl turned the corner and approached Kyle on his side of the street. She had long black hair pulled back and wore a pink sweater. Her backpack was full, so she clutched several extra books in front of her.

There she is.

Victoria was lost in thought. She stared at the sidewalk a few steps in front of her, her mind ruminating on whatever it was 9-year-olds thought about.

He watched her steps, marking their pace in his mind. Kyle didn't bother to look at his timer anymore; he didn’t need to. The seconds ticked away in his head as they had a thousand times before. The passage of time was something Kyle was acutely aware of, probably more so than anyone else. Every second that passed pulsed like a drumbeat in his head.

Three steps every two seconds. Two feet per step. That should be just under one minute. Right on time.

Victoria continued down the sidewalk, blissfully unaware of the man watching her now less than 50 yards away.

Kyle went over the plan in his head again.

Get her attention, get her to stop. I just need 10 seconds.

Victoria was now only 30 yards from Kyle. At this range, he could hear her shiny black shoes clicking along the pavement. Her pace was unchanged; she was not aware of him at all.

Kyle was completely silent and perfectly still, but Victoria must have sensed something. Her trance was broken, and she looked up, noticing Kyle just a few yards ahead. She quickened her pace almost imperceptibly, keeping her head down as she watched him.

Wait for it.

As she passed, Kyle cleared his throat and reclined slightly on the bench.

“Hey,” Kyle called out.

She shivered at the sound of his voice. Victoria kept walking, slightly hastening her pace. She tightened her grip on her books as she glanced nervously towards the houses on both sides.

Kyle didn't miss a beat. “Your backpack is open; your books are going to fall out.”

Victoria slowed to a stop. She was only a few yards past the bench and a few steps from the curb in front of her.

One, two, three.

She reached back as her fingers fumbled for the flap on the top of her pack.

Four, five, six, seven.

She finally felt the flap, confirming that it was still closed. She glared at Kyle for a brief moment as she spun around and stepped towards the curb.

Eight, nine, TEN.

The timer dinged in Kyle's pocket just as Victoria reached the curb.

In that instant, the stillness of the neighborhood shattered. A blast of hot exhaust hit her face a split-second before she heard the roar. An enormous green garbage truck barreled down the road as it passed inches in front of her, moving at least 50 miles an hour.

Victoria stopped in her tracks and swallowed hard as she tried to maintain her balance. She could barely inhale staccato breaths as her eyes followed the truck disappearing in the distance.

Victoria stood at the end of the sidewalk, her small frame shaking. The smell of diesel mixed with garbage hung in the air. A vortex of dust and leaves slowly collapsed right in front of her. The stillness returned as quickly as it had left.

It took all her strength just to stay standing. She slowly turned her head and stared back at the bench that was now empty. There were few people in this world who knew the precise moment their life had changed. Victoria was now among them.

Meanwhile, Kyle crouched out of sight in the bushes a few yards behind the bench. The roar of the truck and the shock of the near-miss concealed his retreat. He opened the timer and activated the device. The air around him crackled as bolts of static electricity enveloped him.

He looked down at the timer and cracked a sly smile as he read the screen.

Victoria Ramirez was elected as the first president of the Global Union on April 3rd, 2057. Mission successful. Timeline restored.