“A small group of people living in post-apocalyptic America have been able to activate a time link to our era.”
I think this thing is working.
I’m not sure.
If it is, someone please respond.
Professor Scrap thinks he can hold the link open, if we can keep the power on, which, to be honest, is a challenge all on its own.
Feels like I’m sending messages into the void, which I guess I am, if what the Professor says is truly true. Guess we’ll see, won’t we?
God, I hope someone’s getting this. Maybe all this can be avoided if the right person sees it. Who knows? The future is immutable.
Until it isn’t.
Uh, I guess a little about me, us, here at the Time-Link compound.
First off, it’s not really a compound. Yet. More like a camp. A crappy one.
At the moment, it’s a broken-down shack and a few rusted out cars surrounded by some stunted trees to the north, a rocky cliff to the east, a shallow, putrid-looking green lake to the west, and nothing but open space to the south.
The lake provides water, but at the moment it takes us a full 24 hours just to purify and distill a few gallons for drinking, so we ration. Also, baths are rare.
It stinks around here.
The lake is poison, for sure. We’ve seen it kill, watched both man and beast die horribly from consuming the water straight from the lake itself. It’s a bad death, let me tell you.
I’ve already mentioned Professor Scrap. Elden Maldash II is his real name. Real names really don’t seem to matter anymore, though. Professor Scrap, or P.S. for short, was a science teacher, long ago, before the first bombs fell and he’s damn handy. Can make just about anything out of anything. Hence, Professor Scrap.
Then there’s Dahlia. No clue what her real name is or was. No one’s ever heard her speak. We call her Dahlia because that’s what was on the shirt she was wearing when we first found her. Besides being mute, she’s also borderline batshit crazy. Most of the time she sits quietly in the rusted-out Ford next to the shack that houses the Time-Link, but we’ve all seen her lose it, especially on Scrags. She hates Scrags.
We all hate Scrags, but Dahlia really hates them.
We’ve seen her go full feral on the reeking bastards more than once.
Let me tell you, past-people, it’s a sight to behold.
Past-people. I like that. Hope you don’t mind. If there’s really a “You” seeing this.
We have three more in our happy little family, not including me.
Flashbang, who isn’t really good at much except eating what little food we can find and blowing things up. He enjoys explosions as much as Dahlia hates Scrags.
Lefty, who only has one arm. It isn’t his left arm, either. I guess he thinks the name is ironic. He’s a big guy. Stands a full head-and-a-half taller than me, and I’m just a little under six feet tall, myself. Lefty has a few bankable talents. His skill with a blade, any blade, is surprising, and he’s damn good at punching things with his single fist. That one arm, like the rest of him, is thick, massive, and covered in scars.
Standing over my shoulder watching me type all this in is Space Ninja 9. At 14 years old, she was born in the wastelands and it shows. Her right eye is almost double the size of the left, her hair is a nearly luminescent shade of orange, and her left hand only has three digits. She was born that way.
Space Ninja 9 is a new name. Last week we all had to call her Murder Unicorn. She even had the Professor fashion a horn from a cracked bicycle helmet and a shard of steel taken from the scrap pile.
She wore it until it broke when she buried it in the chest of a Scrag. Yes, she used her head.
Her real name is Evelyn. She just punched me in the shoulder for telling you that.
With her creepy hand.
Space Ninja 9 also has an unusual knack for premonition.
All that’s left is me.
Not because I’m big and sexy, but because the left side of my face looks like a hunk of burned meat.
Damn, how we all hate them.
Okay, the Professor is telling me to wrap it up. Our one battery is running low, and we’ve only got a single solar panel at the moment.
I hope we can keep the Time-Link open.
I hope someone is really seeing this, otherwise, I’m just talking to myself.
Please, anyone, if you get this, reply. Even if it’s just one word, let us know you’re out there.
Time Link is a fully interactive post-apocalyptic serial that COMPLETELY depends upon YOUR comments to progress the story.
Don’t be a spectator – join the cause…
Jerome is an avid outdoorsman who moonlights as an attorney when he’s not creating the world’s greatest online content.