11. Escape In Hand [II]

“I hope to fix it back together. If that means I have to create my own connections between the body-parts in order to make it work again, so be it.”

Hearing nothing but the anger in Zara’s voice, Aidelle turned away, not willing to fight with the strong-headed girl, and walked towards the front door. It scared her slightly that she was finally going to take a step outside after denying herself it for years in her time. It may not solve all her problems, but Aidelle hoped that the consequences wouldn’t be too disastrous. After all, what would be worse than the life that she was currently living? She missed Phillip terribly, even more now that she had almost got him back.

As the door to the utility room creaked open, Zara looked up from her work, and jumped.

“Hey, wait. Where are you going? Wait!”

Aidelle stopped in her tracks and frowned. She was so close, with one hand on the door.

“Out. I haven’t seen sunlight for years, remember.”
”You can’t go out!” Zara ran to Aidelle, jumping over the neglected teacup and spillage in the sitting room. Hygiene was not the girls’ priority at the minute.

“Are you crazy? We don’t know what will happen if you cross into another timeline in this way. For all we know, you might be dead where Phillip is. On the other hand, you might remain alive in both, and then there’d be two of you wandering around. That’s certainly not good.”

"Are you saying that I can't even leave my house until we fix the clock?"

"Uh huh," Zara chewed one of her fingernails nervously. She didn’t want Aidelle to ruin it all now, on an unjustified whim.

“But that could take forever. And we’re running out of food!”
“I know, I know…” Zara said, hesitantly. Aidelle could tell that she was still hiding something. Aidelle was ten years older and, to be frank, it wasn’t the opposite of obvious. It was something big.

Zara wandered back to the kitchen.

“Just don’t get killed, okay? The whole point of me coming back and risking my life in a different time is to make sure that you have the best future possible.”

Aidelle sighed, and followed suit (Zara knew the best things to say to make her change her mind), closing the utility door with a bang.

“Well, what do you suggest, madam?”

Zara was already sitting at the table. She lifted the screwdriver and tapped it against her nose secretively. Aidelle winced at the unhygienic properties. She also made a mental note to clean up the sitting room when she next had a spare ‘minute’.

“We work on the clock here,” Zara announced. Aidelle wasn’t convinced. Once again, she crossed her arms and watched the girl work.

Zara looked up, surprised.

“Aren’t you going to help with what I’m doing? I thought you’d want to supervise.”

“I am supervising! It just means that I won’t be getting my nails chipped and nice clean hands dirty.

Zara snorted.

“You won’t be saying that in the future,” she said, her voice muffled through the wire that she held in her mouth.

Removing the wire, Zara stretched over the tabletop and grabbed the body of the gold timepiece. She then made a series of complex manoeuvres at which Aidelle could only stare. The wire twisted in and around various cogs, ones that were gold-coated to match with the clock, others which Zara had placed there herself, rusty and old, but still all too operable. Zara forced the lengthy wire even further, snaking it like a vein, right to the heart of the clock. With a click, she managed to attach it firmly in.

“Well…here it goes…” Zara shrugged and reattached the back-plate, struggling to fit it over the mass of foreign, new objects, strangers to the original clock. Aidelle wondered whether she’d ever get her timepiece back as it was originally. It had been simply pretty, but now Zara had fast-forwarded it into a modern age scary to Aidelle.

With an electric beep, Zara’s wristwatch (pushed aside by her right hand) lit up. Aidelle saw the hands on it whirl round, as Zara boggled at it.

“Oh no, no, no!” She yelled, unplugging the wire viciously.

The End

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