Time Jacker, Aaron Crash [most important books of all time txt] 📗

Breakfast was apple-cinnamon oatmeal and coffee, and then he was out the door.

Had he stopped time? The windup toy soldier was in the pocket of his jacket. If he could really stop time, he wouldn’t need to drive. He could just walk. But he decided to drive. His headache was slowly going away, and he didn’t want to risk another migraine—stopping time gave his brain a pinch, and he didn’t want to break his front cortex.

He pulled into the bank’s parking lot a little before eight. His car was nothing to write home about—it was officially a Ford Whatever, your typical crappy sedan, ten years old. It clanked him around Plum Creek just fine. He would’ve liked a better car, but he’d rather have an apartment, and he’d rather help out his mom and aunt.

The bank opened at 8:30, but the employees arrived just after eight to get things taken care of. Jack sipped his coffee, and that was when Mac Satterstrum pulled up in his police car.

Kyle then pulled up in his old BMW. From the look on his thin face, Jack knew some shit had gone down. But what?

Jack got out of his car and approached the men.

Kyle was pale and more freaked out than usual. “Jack. Thank God. Annie Blackburn is missing. She went back to the bank last night. I was with her, and dammit, I turned around and she was gone. I figured I might have not seen her leave, so I called her phone but didn’t get an answer. I hoped she’d be here this morning. I don’t think she’s going to be.”

Mac stood with his hand on his gun. “This is damn strange.”

Jack tilted his head. “Why did you two go back to the bank last night?”

Kyle frowned. “It was crazy yesterday. You left to go to the police station. The police were there. Annie left her purse. She called me to go back for it. I was in my office five seconds. Five fucking seconds! She vanished.”

Jack felt his heart drop into his shoes. What remained felt like a hole in his soul. He and Annie were on the verge of something, and with how funny and sweet she was, and smart, they might’ve had something serious. To have her gone? Just like that?

“Fuck this,” Jack cursed. “Let’s get into the bank. I think I might know what happened.”

Jack both hoped he was right and prayed he wasn’t. He had his gun holstered on his belt, but more important was the dumb windup soldier in his jacket pocket.

Kyle went through the whole thing of opening the bank, unlocking the doors, turning off the security system, and checking his surroundings. Jack didn’t like the weaselly bank manager, but he did a fair job when it came to security.

Mac stood with his arms crossed.

“So where was she?” Jack asked.

Kyle pointed to her normal station. Jack went around the counter and approached her chair. The migraine from the morning was still kissing his frontal lobe, but he was going to have to push himself. He studied the toy. Normally, you’d wind it up and the soldier would slam his drumsticks on the drum. It seemed broken. However, its job wasn’t drumming anymore.

Jack hadn’t thought he’d hit the toy soldier’s key when the guy last night had unloaded his shotgun, but he wasn’t sure. There had a been a massive dump of adrenaline into his system and that could mess with your memory.

A click to the left. Time stopped.

Jack felt the ice pick in his skull right away. Wincing, one eye closed, he went out from behind the counter to stand in the lobby. Kyle was talking, his mouth open, but he was frozen. Mac’s face was locked into a frown.

“Annie!” Jack yelled. “Evelyn Mundi? Horns?”

Yeah, he didn’t really want to see the demon again. The bank was empty of any ghosts, no one was lost in time, and there were no creatures.

Jack couldn’t stand the pain. He gripped the toy soldier in a sweaty hand. He was about to turn the key to the right when he smelled that perfume from before—spicy, musky, sexy. That toilet water must’ve cost a billion dollars.

“It’s not the toy, fucker,” a voice whispered behind him.

And from out of the corner of his eye—no, from out of nowhere—walked a goddess in high heels. A demonic goddess. She was tall, as tall as he was, and she had dark hair, and pretty dark eyes, heavily made up—her right eye was a bright, icy blue while the left was as red as the sweet bow of her lips. She was model gorgeous, in a red dress that opened to reveal miles of cleavage. She had huge titties, and a big butt, big hips, and a Kim Kardashian narrow waist. Her arms showed brown skin and knotted muscles. Okay, this nowhere girl was hot. Literally. He could feel the heat coming off her. And she smelled so good.

She opened her mouth and she had fangs. Horns curled back from her temples, black horns that matched her dark hair. She smiled with those lips. “It’s you, fucker. Use the toy for now. Ha. This is hard on you, sure, because what you’re doing shouldn’t be possible.”

Jack squinted against the unbearable pain. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Names are powerful, and I’d rather fuck a broke dick dog than tell you mine without getting something in return.” She kissed two fingers and waved at him. “I’m gonna go. But I’m watching what you do, mystery man.” She sighed, stepped forward on her dagger-like high heels, and strode into nothingness. She was gone in a snap of noise and the streaming energy he’d seen the day before.

Jack turned the key to the right. Time started again.

Kyle frowned at him. “How did you get there, Jack? You were just behind the counter. And, I hate to say it, you don’t look so well.”

Jack swallowed. “Worried about Annie. I checked her computer...I had a hunch. But nothing.”

Kyle and Mac