For those of you who may have missed it, this past Saturday Kimberly Afe (author of
The Headhunter's Race) interviewed me.
Click here to read it.
And while I was there, I shared the first chapter of
Screwing Up Alexandria, book three in the Screwing Up Time series. So without any further ado, I want to share it here with any readers who missed it there. I hope you enjoy it!
Screwing Up Alexandria, Chapter One
I
stepped out the door of Yale’s Beinecke Library and scanned the plaza beyond
the building’s lights. It looked empty. But was it?
The
buildings around the plaza cast deep, dark shadows. What if someone was hiding
in them, waiting for me? The guy had let me go the last time. But the next
time…I might not be so lucky.
Standing
in the light only made me an easier target. I stepped into the darkness,
waiting for my eyes to adjust, and I listened for a cough or a sneeze or even
the sound of breathing. Instead, the only thing I heard was wind whistling
between the buildings.
I
scanned the plaza one more time. I couldn’t afford to be reckless anymore. The
dagger with the anonymous threat taught me that. I squeezed the car keys that
were in my hand. The last couple of weeks I started taking them out of my
pocket before I walked to my car. That way when I got to the car, I could get
inside as quickly as possible. I needed—
“Mark,
is that you?”
I
spun around, my body tense.
It
was only Professor Prudence, squinting into the darkness. Students referred to
her as “Prickly Pru” or even…well, you can guess what they call you when your
name has a double P.
Professor
Pru didn’t deserve those names, not really. Once you got past her impatience,
she was really nice. Granddad had once told me, “That woman cannot abide fools.
Give her the best you’ve got.” So I did. And after one semester, she’d invited
me to take a directed study class with her, even though I was a lowly freshman.
She
shook my shoulder. “Mark?”
I
blinked.
“Are
you okay?”
Say
something, I told myself. Make something up. “I, uh, thought I saw a shooting
star.”
“Really?”
She looked at the sky. “I’m surprised you could see one—what with all the
clouds tonight.”
I
was a moron. Even the moon didn’t how through the cloud cover. “Right. Must’ve
been something else.”
“Do
you need a ride home?” she asked.
I
shook my head. “I’ve got a car.”
“Oh.
Are you waiting for someone?”
I
couldn’t tell her the truth, that someone might be lurking in the dark to mug
me or kill me. So I said, “I was wondering if you’d like me to walk you to your
car.”
She
laughed. The question was funny. Sort of. Pru wasn’t your stereotypical ancient
languages professor. She was 5’ 10” with broad shoulders and forearms that a
boxer would be proud of. She was more queen of the Amazons than bookworm, and anyone
who tried to attack her would find himself with broken limbs.
“I’m
fine, thanks.” She said and started to walk away. “Besides I’m parked in the
university lot, and I’ve never heard of any crimes there.”
Only
because no one reported anything, I thought as she disappeared into the dark. I
certainly hadn’t made a report when I’d been mugged two weeks ago. Of course,
mine wasn’t a normal mugging. This mugger hadn’t wanted my watch, not
surprising since it was cheap. And he didn’t want my poison ring, my car keys,
or my wallet. Instead, he’d held a knife to my throat and demanded “the
tablet.”
For
half a second, I’d considered telling the would-be thief that I had no idea
what he was talking about. But if he knew about the tablet, pretending I didn’t
was pointless. So I’d told him that I didn’t have it with me, and then I’d dumped
everything out of my backpack onto the asphalt to prove it.
Thankfully,
he’d only done a quick search of my car. If he had looked more carefully, he’d
have found the tablet wrapped in a blanket and hidden underneath the spare
tire.
When
I first got the tablet, I’d kept it and all the others I’d brought back from
Babylon in a basket. But when I realized this tablet was special, I hid it in
the computer sleeve of my backpack. A few weeks later, I’d found a note in my
bedroom threatening “the people you love” unless I left the tablet under a bush
at the Hamden Public Library. Even though the dagger that had pinned the note
to the desk in my bedroom had given me nightmares, I wasn’t just going to give
the tablet away.
So,
I moved it to my car’s trunk, and I shoved the dagger under my mattress. And then,
I pretended nothing had happened.
It
worked out great. Until the mugging. After that, I bought a sheath for the
dagger and wore it around my ankle. Not that I knew anything about knives, but
it was better than nothing.
Kneeling
in the dark, I slipped the knife from the sheath. I was ready. “You are a time
traveler,” I said as I walked across the plaza, down the street and to the
parking lot. “You defeated an insane alchemist, outsmarted a Babylonian king,
and stole mammoth tusk from a Mongol warlord. You can handle a petty thief.” I
tried to ignore the voice in my head saying, “Anyone who tries to steal a
Babylonian tablet written in Akkadian isn’t a petty thief.”
When
I made it to the car, I held the dagger in my mouth and unlocked the door. Then,
I heard a pop. Quieter than a cap gun. The side mirror shattered. Shards of glass
bounced on the asphalt, splintering into smaller slivers that looked like
needles.
Not
even a fragment of the side mirror was left. But the black plastic compartment
that attached the mirror to the car was in perfect shape. Except for a small, perfectly
round hole in the back. It was the size of a bullet. I went cold.
My
heart forced blood through my body, but my legs and arms felt numb.
I
didn’t even know I’d begun moving until I saw my hand throw the car door open
and toss my backpack onto the passenger’s seat. Before I knew it, I was in the
car, the door was shut, and I was turning the key in the ignition.
The
engine purred.
I
expected another bullet to pierce the window and rip through me. But it didn’t.
At least, not yet.
The
tires squealed as I reversed and threw the car into drive. Something on the
windshield fluttered. A sheet of folded paper. Whatever it was, I didn’t have
time for it. I slammed the pedal to the floor and raced away from campus.
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