Time Trapped Read Online Free PDF Page A

head in a single blow. At least it would be a quick way to go. Much better than slowly dying of thirst in the Barrens.
    â€œUhh, what year is this?” I say.
    â€œ2061,” says Abbie.
    â€œAre you sure?” I say. “It looks more like 1361.”
    She laughs. “I’m glad to see you still have your sense of humor.”
    â€œAre we where I think we are?” I say.
    Abbie nods. “Yup. This is Uncle’s castle in Scotland.”
    â€œWhy?” I ask.
    â€œDidn’t Frank tell you? Uncle has planned a special day for all the senior time snatchers. He’s taking us on a grand outing. Just like the good old days. This is the kickoff.”
    It takes a moment for her words to sink in. My brain functions slowly at the best of times, and this certainly isn’t the best of times. In fact, as recently as a minute ago, it was the worst of times.
    When Abbie’s words finally register, I still don’t understand. Why would Uncle include me in any special day? Time snatchers who go AWOL aren’t supposed to be welcomed back with open arms. Or even with arms, for that matter. What game is Uncle playing at?
    I sit down on the mattress and close my eyes. I’ve already given up on this being a dream, but there’s still a chance that I’m hallucinating all of this. I read somewhere that the brain is an incredible organ, capable of constructing hallucinations so lifelike that it’s impossible to tell what’s fake and what’s real—that is until the hallucination goes poof and disappears.
    But when I open my eyes again, Abbie is still there. She sits down beside me, and for a moment, our knees touch. It feels so real. But like I said, the brain is capable of amazing things.
    â€œUncle thought you might need some more time to rest after your operation. So he brought you here early. The rest of us arrived a few minutes ago.”
    â€œThat was considerate of him,” I say. Now that I’m leaning toward none of this being real, my side of the conversation is beginning to flow much easier.
    The only part of the hallucination that’s letting me down so far is this room. It’s got zero personality. Would it have been too much for my brain to conjure up a view, or better yet, a minibar?
    I lean back against the rough stone wall and take a deep breath.
    â€œDon’t get too comfortable,” Abbie says. “It’s time for lunch. I’ve been asked to bring you. Here, let me help you.”
    I take her hand and stand up. As I do, I get a whiff of mango. My calm of a moment ago is shattered. No hallucination can be this detailed.
    â€œThis is all . . . really happening, isn’t it?” I croak.
    She nods slowly. “I’m afraid so.”
    â€œAll right,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Lead on.”
    I follow her from the room and through a narrow passageway.
    â€œGo slow on the stairs,” she says. “They’re a bit tricky.”
    No kidding. Whoever designed this place forgot the handrails. I brace my left hand against the stone wall and slowly follow her up the narrow winding steps.
    â€œKeep looking ahead so you don’t get dizzy,” she says after a minute.
    â€œToo late,” I say. But that’s okay, because dizzy is working for me. It’s keeping my mind off of other things. Like the pain in my head and my throbbing wrist and the fact that I can’t go back to check on Zach on my own or even talk to Abbie about it because Uncle’s watching and listening.
    We must be getting somewhere, because it’s warmer now. And the smells are better too.
    Huffing and puffing, I step out onto a landing. Abbie leads me through a narrow hallway with a ceiling so low that I’ve got to keep my head down. The hall twists right, then left.
    â€œHere we are,” she says finally. “The Great Hall.”
    I follow her into a large room. The vaulted ceiling reminds me of a