The Rivals of Time

The Rivals of Time

The first Brent MacWolf and Ginger only story and the eleventh book in the series by: silver_balto

 

 

Nome, Alaska, July 1954,

 

Everyone in the small town of Nome had gone on summer vacation, except for a few stragglers. In the MacWolf household, Ginger had awakened early to prepare breakfast for her boyfriend, who was still fast asleep. Being a farm girl, Ginger was quite unique in what she did in her daily routines; she helped Brent built is eccentric inventions, repaired parts of the house, and did most male-dominated jobs. Just as she poured the omelette mixture into its pan, a knock can on the front door. Ginger put her spatula on the table and walked over to the door. She opened it and saw a German shepherd holding a small package in his paws. The shepherd was a bit taller than Brent, with beefier arms and legs and, to top it off, he possessed a red eye on his right side, and a sky blue one on his left.

‘’Package for Miss Ginger Clayton.’’ He replied. Ginger took the package politely and asked, ‘’how much do I own you?’’

A blackjack answered her question.

‘’Nothing.’’ The shepherd said quietly and took the liberty of removing Ginger’s collar and hair tie. Putting both of them in the box with a small piece of paper, he sealed it up and dragged Ginger to his plane. Brent awoke to the sound of the engine running. By the time he got to the window, the plane was in the air. Brent shrugged and walked downstairs. He smelt his eggs burning. Checking the stove, he saw the omelette had turned into something that looked and smelt like charcoal.

‘’Something not right here,’’ Brent noted to himself, ‘’Ginger wouldn’t have let this burn. She’s too good of a chef to do that.’’

Brent cupped his paws around his mouth and yelled, ‘’Ginger! Ginger! Where in the hell are you?’’

No answer greeted his calls. Brent opened the front door and looked around. Nobody was in town. He then saw the package. Bring it inside, Brent opened the cardboard package and saw Ginger’s favourite hair tie and pink studded collar in it, along with a note. He picked it up and read the message.

 

Dear Brent MacWolf,

 

You and I have been rivals for some time now. I always wished to get back at you for that horrible thing you did to me, but I could never come up with anything. And then it hit me. Why not take the thing you treasure the most. The only one who had ever loved you! But don’t feel bad. Soon you and her will be together again. You have 120 hours, or five days, to rescue her. After that, you’ll be doing a bit of scuba diving.

For her sake, I hope you hurry.

 

Brent dropped the note, mimicking his jaw. Someone had taken his Ginger, and he wasn’t about to let her slip away. He ran down to his lab and grabbed a few weapons, throwing them into a cameo backpack. Brent checked the package again, coming across a small silver coin. It was a token for the New York City train system.

‘’Dammit,’’ Brent spluttered, ‘’he’s gone to New York City! Argh, I’ll never catch him now?!’’

Then Brent had an idea. Search through the various secret levers in his lab, he came across the entrance to his vehicle hangar. In the far left corner sat a float plane, its gold propeller shimmering in the hangar lights. Brent jumped into the cockpit, grabbing his flight goggles and strapping them onto his face. Pulling back the choke, Brent started the engine. It coughed a few times and turned over. The propeller became a golden blur as it increased in velocity. The plane taxied out of the hangar and out into the snow. The cold nipped at Brent’s face as he entered Alaskan airspace. It would just be another four hours to get there; four hours he could not afford to waste.

 

New York City, four hours later,

 

Brent landed his float plane the New York City harbour, docking her on a pier near Grand Central Station. Grabbing his gear, Brent rushed toward the station doors, when he was stopped by a security guard.

‘’Sir, I’m afraid the train is about to leave. You’ll have to wait.’’

Brent couldn’t wait. Ginger was in trouble.

‘’Listen, I need to get on that train. My girlfriend has been taken hostage and I must save her before 120 hours are up.’’ He pleaded. The guard laughed.

‘’Yeah right,’’ he replied, ‘’and I’m John Diefenbaker. Get outta here kid!’’

Brent nodded and walked away, but just when the guard relaxed, Brent bolted back, bursting through the doors and rushing toward the train about to leave. The large black locomotive blew its whistle and moved forward slowly, stirring up sparks and dust. Brent saw it moving away.

‘’Goddamnit!’’ he yelled and ran toward the easily faster train. The final car came into view, and Brent had only one last chance. Taking a short breath, he leaped, catching a handle on the rear of the train. The guard ran up with a few others, cursing as they watched their prey disappear.

Brent climbed inside the last car and was surprised to see that no one was around.

‘’Well, this is strange.’’ He thought and entered the next car. Empty. The next car was the same, as was the rest of the train.

‘’What the hell?’’ Brent questioned. Finally, he caught a glimpse into the cab of the train. No one was at the controls. He was on a runaway train, and the end of the line was coming up soon. The shepherd watched from the hill tops with Ginger, smiling with satisfaction.

‘’I’d say his chances of survival are 125 000 to 1, but I’m only guessing.’’

Ginger struggled to get free from her captor’s grasp, but no matter how hard she tried, it was useless. As Ginger could do was watched the train as it speeded out of control.

Brent managed to break the door that led to the tender. The air the entered the small opening threw him backward. Brent sat up and saw the end of the line; a set of buffers way off in the distance. He only had a small window of time that would allow him to stop the train, but he had to get to the cab. Standing up, Brent ran to the opening and clambered onto the tender. Staying low, he crawled to the cabin, his shirt covered in coal soot. Finally, he arrived in the cab, only to spy a large amount of C4 explosive attached to the floor. On it was an impact sensor, which would detonate the bomb should the train hit anything. And the end of the line was only three minutes away. Brent knew he couldn’t defuse it; any vibration would set it off. He had a backup plan, but there was a very small chance it would work. But what choice did he have? Brent jumped back into the coaches and ran to the final car. Bending down, he found the coupling between his car and the one in front of it. He clutched the small lever and separated the two. Both were still travelling at similar speeds though. Brent grabbed the emergency brake and pulled as hard as he could, bringing the car to a stop out of the vantage point of the shepherd. The locomotive struck the buffers, and after a second-long pause, the train was sent up in a fireball. The locomotive was torn apart by the sheer magnitude of the explosion, and this same energy flipped coaches as if they were weightless. Ginger cried out as she watched the explosion died down. The shepherd laughed evilly and dragged Ginger away from the scene. Brent emerged from behind his coach and saw the remains of the train.

‘’Apparently, whoever took Ginger doesn’t want me to follow.’’ Brent thought.

Brent stared at the smouldering wreckage of the once proud locomotive, twisted and mangled beyond recognition. Everything around it was gone, and the area resembled a war zone. Coaches were flipped onto their sides and crushed like aluminium cans. Coal was spread everywhere, and small fires dotted the landscape here and there. Brent shook his head is disbelief.

‘’I was almost part of the wreckage,’’ he gasped, ‘’and I’m guessing whoever set up that bomb is an explosives expert.’’

Brent then spotted something. It was a piece of torn clothing.

‘’Hmmm, looks like a high-grade form of material. No clothes in the 50s were made from this stuff,’’ he then blinked, ‘’actually, nothing in the 20th century is made from this stuff.’’

That little piece of material, however small it was, gave Brent MacWolf a revelation to its owner’s destination.

‘’That bastard’s from 2025,’’ he exclaimed, ‘’god, why didn’t I think of that?’’

Brent checked his time travel watch, and discovered its batteries were very low.

‘’I only have enough juice to make five portals,’’ he said, ‘’here’s hoping I don’t run out.’’

Aiming the watch, Brent created a small time portal; a clear swirling mass that made everything behind it twist out of proportion. Brent grabbed his pack and dove through the portal, just as it disappeared into thin air.

 

Brent spun uncontrollably through the wormhole between the time periods. He cupped his paw over his mouth.

‘’Oh man, ‘’he groaned, ‘’I forgot how much this time travel thing makes me feel green around the gills. It’s

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