The Remnant - Part 3
Read Part 2 Here
She stared at him. “You expect me to believe we lost the second world war?”
Her stomach started rolling. All enjoyment had sild off the man's face and his expression was that of a soldier long at the battle.
He nodded slowly. “When I left 2019 a month ago the Nazi party controlled all of Europe and through Russia. They’d dropped so many bombs on Africa that there was nothing left—not a single urban centre and large portions are uninhabitable. They’d taken most of the states and ruled pockets of Canada while playing hide-and-seek with our Resistance. One of the advantages of the vast area and wilderness of our country was they could never quite find us all.”
“And you’re … resistance.”
“So were you,” the man said. “We joined together."
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Anne shook her head. “You expect me to believe I became a soldier and fought?”
“We joined, schemed, fought.” The man shrugged as if it didn’t really matter. “Fell in love.” The intensity of his gaze told Anne that it mattered very much.
"Until you time travelled,” Anne said.
Despite the insanity of his words, the tone of his voice and his demeanour made her think he was anything but.
“Not quite,” his voice dropped quieter than before, “the SS caught you 6 months ago, hiding Jews. I came home and found your body there.” His hand motioned momentarily towards the hallway. “You wouldn’t let them take them.”
Anne felt a lump catch in her throat. “I’m not the heroic person you remember. I’ve never done anything close.”
“But you could be,” he answered.
The silence stretched. She was sure that as he looked at her, he was seeing someone who would have been a stranger to her.
“What are you going to do next?” Anne asked. “You said you don’t exist.”
“One of my grandfathers was a war guest. Only when the war ended, he went back to England and never met my grandmother." He gave an ironic smile. "An unintended consequence of the war ending. At least my teammates arrived back to this time to lives that existed and slowly regained the memories of their new lives. We never planned for what's next—just to end the war as quickly as possible—to save as many lives as possible.”
He stepped towards her and she didn’t step back. Instead of reaching for her he lifted a picture from the side table.
“Your graduation from nursing school?" he asked.
She nodded. The picture showed her in her robe and her mom in her favourite soft pink blouse out in front of the Queen’s University buildings, all limestone and ivy.
“Where was your Dad?” he asked.
Anne had to swallow hard. “He died. Afghanistan. When I was 11.” She took a deep breath. “Was he ….”
The man nodded. “Yes. He was head of our section of the resistance—though he didn’t tell you. He wanted you to find your own way to it." He put the picture down. "I should leave."
Anne didn’t move as he walked past her, but she turned as the door opened. “What’s your name?”
He looked back at her. “Does it matter? I was never born.”
“And yet you say you saved the world,” Anne said.
He watched her for a moment. “Hans Turner,” he said.
The door swung shut beside him and she sat down slowly.
Read Part 4 - Here