Aaron dodged the bullet that flew by. Al-mar Kedebbar had a dead aim, but he hadn’t counted on Aaron’s precision timing. But Aaron knew pluck would get him only so far and that luck would always run out. So where’d he stash the time machine in this furnace?
He darted into the narrow alleyway and ran down the flume. It opened up into the marketplace and he ran into a women’s scarf stand. He heard all these cackling voices in French – you’d think he’d landed in a Parisian sewing circle rather than Algiers.
And so what if he’d accidentally boinked Mrs. Kedebbar? Did that give Al-mar the right to shoot him, even if he was the village’s lead elder? He ran through the market and to the other side – and yes, there it was, the room where he’d stashed the machine.
He ran in the entrance, but tripped over a vase and landed, head first, in a pile of manure. The time machine stood in the corner behind a bamboo fence and Aaron ran for it – but before he reached it, he felt the arrow coming from behind him, he knew Al-mar had found him, he prayed the end would come quickly –
And he woke up in his bedroom in Aunt Wilhelmina’s Presidio estate, in a lathery sweat. His fever had broken.
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