he backyard of my apartment was filled with tall grass in dire need of cutting. Right in the center was a large bolder that poked from underground, probably deposited there during the last ice age. The land around it sloped downward slightly towards an old wooden fence that separated this yard from the neighbor's.
   I bounded up over the rise and down the slope toward the corner where the wood fence met the a second one put up by the people on the right side. It was two distinct styles, one planking the other stockade that created a jarring effect. The good news was that when they put up the plank fence, they set the post too close to the post for the stockade. Over time, the whole area had weakened until both fence posts were falling away from each other creating a sort of "V" at the corner.
   "Here," I said, jumping through the opening. "But watch the slope."
   "What?" Myra said, but was too late.
   The yard the opening lead to was a steep slope of dirt and rocks into yet another three-decker yard sitting lower on the hill. As I jumped, I turned slightly to catch my footing, but Myra came right on through and it took her by surprise.
   She yelped as she fell down on her side and rolled to the bottom of the dirt hill.
   I got to the bottom in three quick side-to-side jumps on the loose dirt of the slope.
   Myra was already on her hands and knees, pulling herself up. I grabbed her arm and helped her the rest of the way.
   "What the hell is going on?" I said.
   She looked at me, in the dark I could see a smear of dirt across her cheek. But her eyes were filled with fear.
   "No time to explain," she said grabbing the bag off the ground.
   She turned to run out down the driveway of the house's yard we had dumped into.
   As we passed the car, there was another crackling of the air and a bright red line slashed into the car directly in front of Myra. She stopped short and her body fell backwards onto me. I caught her and pushed her up, looking back at where the bolt had come from.
   At the top of the slope, right at the same break in the fence posts, there was the shape of a large man, the same as the one at the end of the driveway. From here, he looked bigger, more wide-shouldered than I first saw. But it wasn't this powerful shape that caught my attention. There must have been some reflection of light from somewhere, because his eyes seemed to be glowing from under that hood. He seemed to have slivery eyes that were taking aim again at Myra and me.
   In the instant it took Myra to stand back up, she was running and I didn't linger on the figure's eyes any longer than that brief millisecond. I was moving at just the sound of Myra's shoes hitting the driveway.
   We skipped by a second car in the driveway and were out onto the street.
   "Which way?" Myra said, slowing but not stopping.
   "Which way for what?" I said.
   Now she did stop. Myra turned and looked over my shoulder. "We need some kind of vehicle; that bus," she said rapidly. "Where's the bus station?"
   "This way," I said and we were off running down the middle of the street.
   At the intersection I turned down the road, the last section of the steep hill before hitting the main street. I slowed a bit, not wanting to fall forward on my face. The hill was pretty steep.
   Myra took about three running steps beyond me before stopping.
   "Don't stop," she said. There was real fear in her voice. "They're this close, they won't give up."
   "Who?" I said, but my pace picked up a bit. "What the hell was that? A laser or something?"
   "A laser?" Myra said. "I don't know. It was a beam weapon. Essentially, an intensely focused beam of light."
   "Um... okay," I said. But I thought that's what a laser was?
   We were at the bottom of the hill, which required a turn to the left to head towards downtown. I looked up and down the empty street. I couldn't remember, did the buses run the early?
   I was slowing down, the running was catching up to me and I needed to catch my breath.
   "Don't stop moving," she said harshly.
   I shook my head, "I just need a second."
   Somewhere behind us, tires squealed.
   I looked back and the tan Chevy was taking a sliding turn from the bottom of the hill towards us.
   "Aw fuck," Myra swore.
   "Here!" I almost shouted and bounded down a driveway.
   I got about four running steps behind the parked car when Myra grabbed the rear of my shirt and stopped me. She was crouching down behind the vehicle and I quickly fell to the ground behind her.
   The Chevy barreled on by and kept going.
   "Won't take them long to come back," she said softly, probably to herself. Then she turned her head to me, "How far is the train station?"
   "A few blocks that way," I said pointing. "We might get there passing through backyards, but it will take longer."
   She looked back at the street then nodded to me, "Let's go."
   We stood up and I walked into the yard we were hiding in and made my way along a fence until it crossed another. I climbed up on it and was over into the neighbor's yard in a second. Myra, even in her skirt managed to navigate the fence with ease after tossing her bag over first.
   "What's going on?" I said as we moved to the next fence.
   "They're looking for me," she said softly.
   "Duh," I replied. "Why?"
   "I have something. I'm a threat to them," she said quickly. "It's complicated."
   "They're not with the DDP, are they?"
   "No."
   We hopped over the chain link as easily as the first. These fences were more for territory than to actually keep people out. They weren't that tall, and the tops didn't end with the barbs up, they were rounded.
   "Who are they? Who are you?"
   Myra stopped and looked me dead in the eye. "Jack, I'm sorry. If I can get on a train and get far enough away from here, they won't care about you and everything will be alright."
   "It will?" I said.
   She smiled slightly, "Yes. If I can get far enough ahead of them, I can get away."
   I furrowed my brow.
   "But it's really best that we leave it at that. Honestly."
   The next fence was a stockade and I boosted Myra up and over before hoisting myself up. As I landed on the damp grass, I could hear a car moving slowly down the street."
   "Shh," Myra said, grabbing my arm and pulling me to the ground. I could make out the lights of the car and a dark shape as it slowly passed between the houses on the street.
   "They're triangulating my signal," she said, again, more to herself.
   "What?" I said, not sure I had actually heard her.
   "Nothing."
   As the car passed, Myra stood up and I followed her to the next yard. We made it through several neighborhoods, occasionally ducking if a vehicle of any kind was heard approaching.
   "Uh-oh," I said as I helped Myra down from the last fence.
   "What?" She visibly tensed up.
   "Umm," I said scanning the yard.
   "This is the last house on the block. From here," I paused trying to mentally recall the route. "Yeah, from here we have to run down Union Street, which is mostly businesses; no backyards to hid in."
   "How far is it to the train station?"
   "From here, it could be a mile or so."
   Myra paused. "Right, let's catch our breath and then make a break for it."
   "Okay, but won't running draw attention to ourselves?"
   Myra shook her head, "No, it won't matter. Once we're out in the open, they won't need to see me running to locate me."
   "You have some kind of bug on you?"
   "What?" she said, brushing her shoulder, "Where?"
   "No, some kind of tracking device."
   "Oh," Myra let her arm fall back to her side. "Yes, in a way. I can't get rid of it yet."
   "Hun? That doesn't make any sense. At some point you can?"
   Myra's face scrunched in frustration, "It's complicated."
   I nodded slowly, "Yeah, I bet."
   "What's on the other side of this fence," she said, changing the subject.
   "This church's cemetery," I said pointing up at the steeple that stuck out over the fence.
   "There's a slope and then a short drop to the street. When you get onto the street turn right and run that way."
   Myra nodded. "The train station is on that street?"
   "Yeah, it's the same place we took the bus from, only above it."
   "Right, I remember," she said.
   "The only thing is, I have no idea what time the trains run, or even if they run at all this early."
   Myra nodded again, "We'll have to take the risk."
   "Okay," I said, but I was uneasy. Boston isn't New York, things were a lot slower here.
   Boston: The city that always sleeps, a friend of mine used to say.
   After a minute Myra stood up, "Ready?"
   "Yeah," I said standing. I took a few deep breaths and lifted Myra over the stockade fence, then tossed her bag. I jumped up and grabbed the top of the planks and pulled myself up and over.
   The cemetery was very small, the stones very old. Probably Colonial or just after, I had never actually been this close to them. From the street, there's a five-foot stone, wall from where the road was cut into the hill.
   I threaded my way through the headstones to the low iron fence that ran along the top of the wall.
   "Okay," I said. "Here we go."
   "Don't stop," Myra said quickly as I crouched to lower myself down the wall. "Just keep running."
   "Right," I said and dropped the five feet to the sidewalk.
   Myra came right behind me and we started running.
   We got to the end of the street, which widened out to allow traffic to go left or right directly under the train overpass. There was a curved cement wall running along the left side that led to the bus station, but in the center was an old, stone staircase that led up to the trains.
   We almost made it.
   Right as the staircase came into view I could hear a car thundering down the road behind us. I turned my head and it was clearly the tan Chevy.
   "Here they come," I shouted.
   "Go, go, get up there," she yelled.
   I didn't stop and we hit the entrance and I bounded up the first four stairs without touching them.
   At the top of the stairs I could hear the car screeching to a halt. Myra and I ran down the platform until it ended.
   "No train," I gasped.
   Myra was breathing heavy and turned back towards the exit.
   "They might not start running for another hour," I said between ragged breaths.
   She spun around, surveying the area.
   The sun wasn't up yet, but the light was improving. The platform was a small island of asphalt with a flat, old metal roof and tracks on both sides. A tall metal fence barred people from crossing from one side to the other and there were equally tall fences down the yard the tracks came in on, although there were opening for the trains to pass, of course. The exit was a small steel structure that sat at the opposite end, but there was room on its sides to pass.
   "Come on," she said and ran down to the exit we had come through and skirted along the narrow opening.
   We came out behind the stairwell, although at that point it looked like a green, steel box.
   "Damn," she swore.
   The area behind the box was completely sealed off. Fences and the bridges the train would run over and beyond nothing but open ground rimmed with tall fence.
   I started to move back when heavy footfalls came from the staircase box. Myra tensed and grabbed my arm hard enough to actually hurt.
   The adrenaline was starting to pump hard.
   There were voices, deep and grumbled, but I couldn't make out any words. They seemed to fade and it was apparent they were walking to the other end of the platform.
   Now would be a great time for the trains to start running, I thought.
   Myra suddenly let go of my arm and let her bag drop to the ground. She crouched down, opened it, and quickly pushed around the contents. In a second she pulled her arm back out and she was holding a small tube of some kind. Actually, it looked like a TV remote.
   Myra cinched the bag back up and swung it around her back. She then punched a few buttons on the remote.
   "What the hell are you doing?" I whispered.
   Myra turned her head and looked me in the eye. There was dead seriousness to her, "Jack, I'm sorry."
   "For what?" I said cautiously. She was clearly not talking about this little jaunt we were taking.
   Myra didn't respond. Instead, she fumbled with the remote pushing buttons and turning it over to push a few more buttons.
   "When I hit this, they're going to know exactly where we are," she said without looking up.
   "Hit what?" I said, but I knew I wasn't going to get an answer.
   Myra thumbed the last button at the same time she held out the device and pointed it at the back of the staircase box.
   I could feel the hair stand up on my neck and arms, the air was suddenly charged.
   There was a small audible crack! and there was a heavy smell of ozone.
   Suddenly, the center of the wall twisted.
   For a nanosecond the wall looked as if it were made of rubber or, maybe water, it pulsed in and out for the briefest of moments. Then, as the pulse recessed, the entire circular area in the middle fell in on itself and there was another, slightly louder crack! and it became a swirling vortex that appeared like a whirlpool against the wall. The wall twisted and pulled at the edges of the vortex and spiraled down into a black abyss. Small flashes of light jumped in and out and spiraled downward and the black didn't seem so empty, but seemed to have depth.
   "Jesus Christ, what the hell is that?"
   "It's a bridge," she said, hastily putting the tube-remote back in the bag.
   "A what?"
   Before she could answer, one of the men chasing us came around the corner behind Myra. He was big. Probably six feet or more and wide. Strangely, he was wearing a fedora and a trench coat, and he seemed like a ridiculous caricature of a cartoon private detective. Overly square, big and menacing. It was hard to make out details and everything happened so quickly.
   "Myra, behind you," I shouted.
   Without looking, Myra dropped on a knee, throwing her other leg out and spun around kicking his legs out from under him. The wall of a man came crashing down on his back.
   From that crouched position, Myra launched herself at me, grasping my shirt and pushed me towards the vortex.
   "I'm sorry," I heard her say and I could feel us falling towards the opening.
   As we crossed the terminator, the universe exploded.