By The YU Writers’ Guild
Each month, the YU Writers’ Guild accepts submissions for a short story following a specific theme. This month’s theme was *V’nahafoch Hu* featuring stories that turn a trope on its head. Members of the club voted on a short story to be featured in the YU Observer. For the month of April, “In the Nick of Time” written by Sara Hellman was selected.
Sweat dripped down Nick’s neck as he checked his watch. That small action almost cost him his life. An SUV full of children veered in front of his car, but Nick’s skills were honed to react on a hair pin trigger.
He whipped the wheel the opposite direction and his car’s tires squealed in protest.
“I know, baby,” he muttered, patting the wheel. “I’ve got you.”
The precious few milliseconds his glance at the watch had cost him were worth it, if only to confirm what he already knew.
Twenty minutes.
Only twenty more minutes until Jules, his partner at The Firm, was blown to bits by whatever madman had sent the ransom note.
Nick had been through trials for Jules. Every single day of the past week was spent fighting for Jules’ life. Completing puzzles, jumping through hoops, hacking through firewalls, the lot of it. He was a trained professional, but you can never be truly trained for something like this and it showed in his weariness.
When he had first received the ransom note he was convinced it was a joke. Did people really cut out magazine letters anymore? Did people even get magazines? Nick wasn’t sure. He was sure that he had received one though. It was a simple message. One encrypted line. A link to a website where a live-stream of Jules was being played. Maybe for fun, maybe to test Nick’s commitment, but every so often a gun would be held near Jules’ head with a demand on a sign next to her that had to be completed in a time frame.
Nick cursed the bad driving of the people in this city even though his lack of attention was probably to blame for the near accident he had almost caused. Speeding through one of the busiest places in the world wasn’t the wisest thing to do, especially when lost in thought.
He checked his watch again and inhaled sharply through his teeth. Not good.
“Come on, come on,” he coaxed his car. He needed to go faster. He didn’t have enough time.
That’s what it always came down to.
In his missions, he usually scraped by just in the nick of time, pun not intended, but it was looking far too close for his taste this time around. Another bunch of streets blurred in his window and he risked another glance at his watch as his heart dropped.
Ten minutes.
He saw the warehouse in the distance.
Downtown was all made of short buildings until you reached the working district. That’s when the factories began to rise and eat up any open bit of sky. His destination was one of the places that marked the border between the low apartments and the mammoth structures.
Nick huffed out a laugh. He had been in high speed chases before but this was his first one with an abandoned warehouse.
Because warehouses tended to be inanimate objects, he won the race. His car screeched to a halt as close to the building as it could get and he was out of it before it fully stopped. Nick rushed in through the front door with his firearm held out and did a visual sweep of the building.
Right in the middle was a chair.
The chair that was meant to seat Jules for the hostage exchange.
On that chair sat no one.
The chair was empty.
Nick expertly holstered his gun and stared blankly at the simple wooden chair in the middle.
He drew his leg back and kicked the chair with all his force, splintering one of the legs and pushing it across the floor. He sat down hard on the floor and put his head in his hands.
“I just needed one more hour,” he yelled into his hands. His voice bounced around the desolate room making its way back to him.
His voice hitched as he whispered to himself, “I could’ve saved her.”
The next few breaths were shaky as Nick tried to calm himself.
He lifted his watch to his eyes to cement what he already knew.
He was too late.
He sat in the empty room berating himself.
How could he have been so stupid.
A loud tone suddenly rang through the warehouse. Nick recognized it as The Firm calling him, to inform him he was no longer allowed to work there after letting his partner die. He drew out his phone, resigned to his fate.
His suspicions of the caller were correct. Caller ID was hidden.
Nick moved his thumb to press the accept call button and then froze. Right below ‘Caller ID Hidden,’ was the time. His left arm rose next to the phone.
Nick looked at his watch and then the phone.
The phone and then the watch.
Once more in reverse.
Daylight savings time was last night.
He hasn’t switched his watch over.
He had one more hour.
He raced out of the warehouse to get his siege gear from the car. The kidnappers were in for a nasty surprise.