The Gray Zone by MariaLisa deMora

The Gray Zone by MariaLisa deMora

Author:MariaLisa deMora
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781946738363
Publisher: MLK Publishing
Published: 2019-06-30T22:00:00+00:00


Just a question

He didn’t think pain as enormous as this could be anticipated. It was tangible, fingers of suffering digging grooves along his skin. Clive’s spine arched with the jolts of electricity that coursed through him, each spasm more painful than the one before until he was one long agonal ache, the torment wavering and strengthening but never really waning. It spun him thin, stretching the cells of his body as he lost shape, becoming a thought, a wisp of experience cast to the winds like a balloon carrying a wish, a memory, a cry for help.

This time when he landed, it was with a thud, and he cried out as his legs collapsed underneath him. The echoes of agony still rang inside his skin, and he shook, trembling in the savage grip of whatever it was the man had done to him. Gradually the pain left, and when he tried to sit, he was shocked at how weakened his muscles were.

Looking around, Clive was surprised to find he wasn’t lying on the dirty floor of the bar bathroom but in his own office at the main plant. Once on his feet, he leaned heavily on one stiffened arm as he reached for the desk phone. He hesitated, then turned it towards himself and looked at the display. Friday. In terror, he checked the time and found it was exactly two hours before the accident. There’s time.

He pulled the chair around, thinking, but his legs gave out as he sat, and he fell into the chair with a cry, leather creaking.

How do I manage to derail Brownwitte without seeming crazy? When Clive had stood in his kitchen, he’d had the first inkling of an idea, but now that he was here, it was gone, seemed too fragile to grasp, which made sense, because it hadn’t happened yet. But then how do I know what will happen? He shook his head in frustration, knowing he could debate this all day. It already felt as if he’d lived a lifetime trying to navigate Claire’s death, and he needed it to end. There was no time for that internal discussion; he had to take it on faith that the man had sent him back to a place where Clive could successfully alter the fabric of Claire’s future.

Clive tapped a button on his phone. There was a buzz before his assistant answered, her voice softly confused, and he thought, Join the club. “Clive? Are you calling from Mexico? It came through as an internal call.” The air rippled, and she sighed, “Of course not, you’re back here.” There was a beat of silence. Then back to her normal efficient self, she asked, “What do you need, boss?”

Oh my God. He altered her memory while I sat here. Clive was stunned. He hadn’t considered it, because there’d been no chance, but of course, changing the past meant more than just plunking him into a timeline, because he existed both here and in his past.

“Clive?”

“Yeah, Althea, I’m here.



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