What was he doing here?

He was the one who broke their gaze first. He stood and wove his way to the door at the back of the bar. He lingered for a moment and, though he didn’t look back at her again, Dorothy understood.

He wanted her to follow him.

LOG ENTRY— JULY 2, 2074

06:32 HOURS

THE WORKSHOP

Today’s crash: Dog darts across the street, causing a mother of three to swerve and drive her Chevy Avalanche into a tree.

No one dies in this one—not even the damn dog—but I’m going to keep this mother of three from having to replace her windshield if it’s the last thing I do.

Don’t even wish me luck. I don’t need luck. I’m a man of science, for Christ’s sake.

UPDATE—12:33 HOURS

This is almost comical at this point. Seriously, I’m sitting here laughing hysterically because I honestly don’t know what else to do. If I don’t laugh, I think I might cry.

I found the dog. I figured this time, it might be easier to deal with a dog than a person, you know? How hard is it to control a dog?! All I was going to do was get the dog on a leash and keep him from running across the street as the woman’s Chevy Avalanche drove by.

But the dog hated the damn leash. As soon as I clipped it onto his collar, he started freaking out, thrashing and barking and pulling. I tried to keep hold of him, but he was too strong. He knocked me off my feet and darted into the road—

Right in front of the Avalanche. Which swerved. And hit a tree, cracking its windshield.

You know what this means, right? It means I caused the crash. I grabbed the dog and put him on the leash, and that’s why he freaked out and darted across the street.

Did I cause the other crashes, too? Did delaying that driver at the diner cause him to drive more recklessly to make up for lost time? Did I put the idea to get on his motorcycle that day into that kid’s head, just by showing up and telling him not to?

Is all of this my fault?

24

Ash

Ash moved down the hallway in a daze, his heart hammering in his ears. Black Cirkus posters blanketed the walls—THE PAST IS OUR RIGHT!—and any other time he might have ripped them down. But not now. Now, he barely saw them. His mind was focused on only one thing:

Would she come?

He hoped she would. It embarrassed him how much he hoped for this, but there it was. He felt like he was lit from within, like there was fire blazing in his chest, eating away at his skin and muscles and bones.

The hall grew cooler as he made his way toward the bathrooms, and a shiver passed through him. Distantly, he heard the sound of water sloshing against the docks on the other side of the bar’s thin wall, wind pushing into the side of the building.