Five Minutes

by Seven


Disclaimer:  Earth: Final Conflict and its characters are copyrighted by Tribune Entertainment Company.  All rights reserved.



Note from Author:  This may or may not be the case, but...



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Three years before the Taelon arrival

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Renee Palmer's heart pounded madly as the small car sped through the inky darkness. The soft strains of Mozart poured from her speakers, helping focus her mind as her body pushed the car forward.

Her cell phone was dead, silent, the batteries left in her apartment. She didn't want any calls, any distractions as she headed for the rendezvous. Her business contact from Doors International rarely waited for more than five minutes after the time limit, making it harder and harder to meet as she commuted from one city to another.

"Mommy?" called a small voice from the back.

Renee hurriedly softened her features and smiled over her shoulder at the tiny blond child in the back seat. "Yes, sweetie?"

"Where are we going?" Rachel asked, hugging a teddy bear to her chest. Long blond curls framed a face as sweet as any cherub's, containing sky-blue eyes free of guile and sadness.

"We're going to see-" Renee started, but stopped as the engine sputtered and coughed sickly. Lights on the dashboard flickered. She began slapping the steering wheel as the car slowly ground to a halt. Blast it, not now! I can't afford to lose any more time!

The headlights died.

Renee sighed, bit down the oaths that threatened to float to her lips, and popped the door open. The cool night air wafted in as she stalked to the front and yanked up the hood. Smoke poured out; she coughed and fanned a hand in front of her face, her silk skirt whipping around her legs as she continued coughing. She grimaced, stepping back to survey the horizon.

"Mommy?" Rachel asked, sticking her head out of the window, pale face shining like a beacon. "What's wrong?"

"The car broke down, honey," Renee answered, pulling her thin purple sweater around herself. She pointed at a spot of light in the distance. "I'm going there to get help. Stay here, okay? Don't wander off. I'll only be gone for about five minutes."

Rachel nodded, and slipped back in. Renee considered for a moment, then slipped out of the sweater, her bare arms and neck stinging at the cold air as she handed it in the open window. "It's cold out, put this on." Rachel pulled the knitted garment around herself and nodded, playing with a drumstick and her teddy bear.

Renee's heeled shoes crunched on the gravel as she set out stoically for the gas station, her sundress insufficient for a cold fall night. Strands of long blond hair whipped past her face, her hearing dulled by the stiff breeze.

She did not hear the roar of engines, hear the grind of wheels on gravel. But as the headlights lit up the world before her, with only her elongated shadow to show where she stood, Renee spun in horror, staring as the car sped up the road.

"No!" she shrieked, running forward. A twinge spiked her ankle as one of her heels gave, but she ignored it, every cell of her being focused on the car that lay dead and silent in the middle of the road, with little Rachel inside.

She did not reach it.

The cars impacted with a sickening crunch, Renee's car skidding sideways as the other car struck it full force. The windows shattered, spraying shards of glass in every direction. The door collapsed inward, crumpling like an aluminum can and shooting inward.

Renee heard screaming, and a small part of her realized that the screams were hers, howling like the laments of a banshee through the calm night air.

As the second car backed away, Renee ran to her wrecked vehicle and grabbed the ragged edges of the door, ignoring their bite into her bare fingers as she pulled on it. With a sickening groan, it gave way, and she crawled into the twisted seat. "Rachel?" she asked, in a voice that she barely recognized as her own.

A small body fell from the back seat, wrapped in a purple sweater, now dark and wet. Renee Palmer slowly pulled the broken body of her child into her arms, and cried harsh, racking tears.