Shift (ChronoShift Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page A

loudly.
    He knocked.  No answer.  No movement from inside.
    Well, he’d already broken into one building.  Why not go exploring a second time?
    The front door turned out to be unlocked, but unlike the screen, the smooth silence of well-oiled hinges accompanied Mark’s push as he swung it inward.
    “Helloooo?” he called,  listening expectantly.
    No answer.  He called a second time with the same result.
    The home was indeed simple, outside and in.  The furniture was sparse and minimalist, yet modern, all of it neatly arranged and dust free.  The faint smell of freshly cut lumber lingered in the air, just like the shed, yet this time mingling with a stronger scent of lemony Pine Sol.  The place seemed lived in, but was spotlessly clean.
    Finding no sign of life on the first floor (Nor, to his dismay, any food in the refrigerator), Mark ascended the stairs.  He winced when the last step creaked awfully.
    On the second floor, he found the home’s apparent owner.
    In the master bedroom, an old man lay on his back in a king-sized bed.  His countenance was peaceful, his eyes shut and his hands at his sides.  His suit looked pressed, giving him an eerie appearance, as if he’d been laid out for a funeral.
    Mark crossed the room to feel for a pulse.  The moment he picked up the man’s wrist, his eyes fluttered open and he stared at Mark intensely with a look that pierced him through and through.  It was as if the old man knew every inch of him, as if he could see into the very depths of his soul with that penetrating gaze.  Yet, somehow, the old man also felt familiar to Mark.
    The fragile face smiled.  It was a weak smile, but warm, animated by an intensity that momentarily equaled the stare.  The man gripped his wrist and squeezed, like he was holding on for dear life, never taking his eyes from Mark’s.  After a moment, his grip loosened and fell away, taking the brief smile with it.  The man’s eyes fluttered shut and a strange, rattling breath escaped his lungs.  His whole body relaxed with that breath, as if sinking deeper into the large bed.  Mark felt his pulse fade, and then it finally ceased.
    He waited several minutes to be sure, but he knew the man had died.  He recognized the death rattle, that strange last breath the dying make as they expire.  He considered calling the police to report the death, but he couldn’t find a telephone anywhere in the house and they were a long way from any town.   The old man had obviously known he was dying and had wanted to die here.  Mark would just leave him where he lay.
    Mark’s earlier impression of the house being “simply” furnished crystallized into clarity.  With the exception of a few items like the refrigerator, there was not a single modern appliance or amenity to be found.  No television set, no radios, no telephones.
    Maybe Mark really had traveled through time and was still stuck in the past.  No — the refrigerator was stainless steel, a newer model.  Puzzled, he continued to search.
    The closets were bare.  There were no toiletries in the bathrooms, no sign of anyone having living here.  Except for the body in the bed.
    It reminded him of the apartment of an old college buddy who traveled all the time for work: Sterile like a hotel room.  He’d asked his friend once how he could stand to live in such a bland environment.  His friend had replied that the opposite was true.  Being gone so much, the only way he could stay sane was to keep his apartment clutter free and as low-maintenance as possible.
    Was the old man a traveler like his friend?  Even more importantly, was he a time traveler?
    Mark took a closer look at the dead man and saw his wrist bore a silver “watch” identical to his own.
    Guess that answers that.
    Gently, he lifted the man’s arm, trying to get a better look at the device’s settings.  Upon his touch, the device began to whir softly.  Its band loosened and slid from the dead man’s wrist to the