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The Push

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Detective Audrey Heller works for the Temporal time bureau in the year 3023. Framed for a murder she didn't commit, and on the run from a dangerous foe, she goes against all the laws she has sworn to protect. She is prepared to go to any extremes to save her partner and the man she loves.

To Christian Deluca, Audrey Heller is most rude and angry woman he has ever met. She is also, apparently, someone he falls in love with in his future, or so she claims. With a murderer/mole in the police department, on the loose and a baby on the way, it's a race against time. The clock has turned back and circumstances are different. Can Audrey and Chris still make a future together, Or will the bomber erase their pasts.

The Push II: Decimation. 


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Hope City’s Finest are back….


After Detective Audrey Heller-Deluca risks everything to save the man she loves, and her unborn child, she disappears. Only to be apprehended, two months later, after committing murder.

Hope City 3024 is a war zone. The Temporal Detective's have their hands full dealing with renegade time travelers and fanatical suicide bombers. No one is safe.

It’s up to Detective Christopher Deluca and his Partner Alister Kabrena to save Audrey. Can they untangle the ultimate web, weaved by the king of all time travel? Or will the Puppet Master tug the string that turns friends into enemies and heroes into villains.

The Push Decimation;


Chapter 1.

 Katrine placed her laser gun on the white carpet in front of her. From her squatting position, she watched Hope City’s twinkling stars through the closed window. The homes built in the outlying areas of the busy city were not plagued by excessive billboards, buildings, and street lighting. This was the perfect locale for star gazing.

 For a moment, with her head resting against the white-washed wall, she pretended to be a regular woman. She was relaxing in her modern suburban home, just enjoying the night sky. “Kicking back…with a laser gun between my knees,” she muttered to the empty hallway. This particular house seemed a little more posh than the typical steel gray dwellings of Hope City. The voice activated front door, fire resistant alloy on the exterior, and windows with a refraction of light option said ‘standard town home.’ But, the quality of the carpet fibers indicated wealth.

Katrine’s heart gave an extra hard thump as the electronic front door slid open with a hum. The muscles in her body tightened as she listened to her targets. Their light laughter filled the room as they discussed their evening. Ignoring the slight tremor in her hands, she picked up her weapon. Her chest constricted. A bead of sweat trickled down the nape of her neck as the voices of her prey drew closer.

This is it. Roll, tuck, two head shots. Nice and clean. The more she revised the steps in her mind, the more firm and less tremulous her grip on the gun became. With her head swiveled as far right as possible, she ensured her line of sight was parallel to the walls.

Perfect. She pressed her finger against the length of her weapon. It gave a sudden whirr and click as it registered her print.

Oh crap! She forgot to turn the sound off.

“Weapon activated,” the gun's loud automated sound system informed her. The talking from her prey stopped abruptly.

“Hunny?” a woman asked, her voice quivering. “Run! Back out the—”

 In a speedy, decisive movement, Katrine tucked her head into her belly and rolled out into the open. She fired multiple shots at her marks as she spiraled along. Glass smashed, then bodies thudded onto the floor at the same time that she straightened her posture out. Landing on her knees, Katrine looked up to observe her handiwork.

“Oh no,” she gasped at the sight before her. Her aim had been true. The little blood-covered boy standing between the bodies of his parents testified to that.

For a long moment, Katrine and the child stared at one another. The boy trembled in his pale gray suit, making small tearful whimpers. In a futile attempt to clean himself, he wiped a hand across his wide forehead. This only succeeded in spreading the red smears across his face.

Instinctively, Katrine reached into the pocket of her cropped motor-cycle-style leather jacket with her free hand. Pulling out a satin handkerchief, she held it out to the boy. He didn’t move. His pale copper eyes, obscured in part by chestnut colored hair, continued to bore into her.

“I...I'm sorry...I didn't know you were...that is to say, my mission specifications didn't tell me anything about...” Her apology tapered off into the heavy silence that fell between them. What was she doing? One only had to look around to imagine what the boy was feeling.

The once immaculate, white-themed living room had been turned into a slaughterhouse. Red spray dotted the walls, not sparing the family portraits. The glass coffee table, now shattered in pieces, lay beneath the body of the man. The carpet the boy stood on had changed from white to crimson, the flow of blood saturating it.

Katrine felt her weapon slip out of her hand, but made no move to pick it up. The numb feeling she felt when she first looked into the child's eyes began to spread throughout her body. She longed to explain. To tell him that she had no choice, that in order for her family to live, his had to die.

“What have I done?” she asked herself.

“What have you done indeed?” a rough, female voice asked from behind her. Katrine stiffened. “Don’t try to move!”

Her numbness was replaced by the rush of her heart pounding, fueling adrenaline as her body went into survival mode. Her mind flipped through all of her options with desperation. She needed more time.

“How quaint,” she said, attempting to sound nonchalant. “A Temporal Officer. Aren't you supposed to stop the murders before they happen? Looks like you suck at your job.”

“Shut up! You Silas-worshiping sociopath!” the Temporal Officer snapped. “I’m not one of those morons stupid enough to time travel in the vicinity of your drift technology!”

“You say that, but here you are,” Katrine pointed out. “How exactly did you Push here without being thrown through time?”

“Are you trying to distract me?” The Officer gave a hollow laugh.

Katrine bit her bottom lip. Her eyes swiveled in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the captor behind her. How did she do it? My suit should have thrown her through time? Is it malfunctioning?

“We may not have drift technology, but my time travel gear has been modified to prevent any unauthorized time travel in a thirty mile radius. Same goes for teleportation. Remote or otherwise,” the Officer informed her.

“Great. Looks like I have to make a run for it. Katrine wasn’t sure if it was dread or fear, but it rolled off her in waves.

“You are under arrest. Any attempt to escape will be met with deadly force,” the Officer warned, menace oozing from her with every syllable.

A horrible burning sensation seared into both sides of Katrine's neck. She screamed in agony, smelling her flesh as it sizzled. It hissed like a splash of water dropped on a burning hot coal.

“That’s right. I have rapiers that exude heat. They are poised to slice your head off. I beg you to give me a reason.”

Katrine blew out a shaky breath. Her eyes closed, forcing a single tear out. Game over. Caught by the law. Would they execute her? Or worse, torture her?

The boy was still staring at her. A single solitary tear, very much like her own, made its way down his cheek. It stopped mid flow, not resuming its path down his face.

Wait a second. Time has stopped. Someone else must be arriving, Katrine realized with a mixture of relief and apprehension. Thank you, she mouthed, her eyes cast skyward. Unlike the boy, her suit kept her from being frozen in time.

“What do we have here,” a rich baritone voice said. “Oh boy. What a mess. Agent Ross, isn’t it? Mackenzie Ross’ daughter?”

“Yes. It’s the Chief’s family, sir. They have been murdered by a renegade time-traveler. She is wearing a facial disrupter collar to disguise her identity. I couldn’t turn off the hologram of the ski-mask being projected on her face. I don't know who she is yet.”

The newcomer chuckled before saying, “Ski mask? What an odd choice.”

 Katrine heard heavy footsteps as the second time-traveling Officer came and knelt down to her level. She took a sharp breath, taken aback by the strong, broad face in front of her. The man narrowed his deep-set navy blue eyes as he examined her. He pressed his lips together, stroking the dark hairs on his chin. His long, lush, black hair brushed his brawny shoulders as he moved his head to glance at the right, then the left side of her face. She found his proximity unnerving.

“How do you turn this thing off?” He ran his index finger along the narrow collar around Katrine's neck. Little jolts shot through her when his hand brushed her chin. The slight scent of vanilla wafted past her nose. She watched him pout and resume stroking his goatee.

“Sir, that technology is specific to the year 3024 and your police department,” the Officer named Ross responded.

“And?” the man asked, tugging the silver band with his index finger and thumb.

“I’m from 3042. We don’t use that model of facial disrupters anymore. In any case, don’t you think you should know how to turn it off?” Officer Ross asked with a note of irritation.

“I don't claim to know everything, Little Ross.” He beamed, his sensational smile catching Katrine off guard. “That's part of my charm.”

Without warning, he pulled a gadget from his belt and pressed it to the collar. Katrine became rigid. Her muscles tightened as fifty thousand volts of electricity shot through her body. She fell backwards, her entire world plunged into blackness.


“A little warning, Detective Kabrena!” Lillian Ross snapped. Her rapiers vanished the instant she saw the Detective grab his Taser pen. “I could have sliced her head off. You can't just electrocute someone without warning.”

“I can,” he responded, reattaching the pen shaped weapon to his belt. “And, I did. See, it worked. Besides, you kids from the future use your minds to bend molecules and conjure up all kinds of crazy stuff, right? So, if you cut her head off, can't you conjure up some needle and thread and sew it back together?”

Lillian Ross stared at him, her mouth hanging open. She seemed to be gauging whether his question was serious or not.

“Or…” He raised his index finger as though struck by inspiration. “…you could conjure up a surgeon, and he could sew on her head.”

“Alister, it's not...” she began.

“Uh-uh!” he admonished. He placed several salt-shaker-shaped remote transporters around Katrine's body. “It's Bam Bam. Or just Bam.”

“Why?” Lillian asked. “What does that even mean?”

“That's the sound vintage weapons made when they were discharged, ‘Bam Bam.’ My fellow Officers gave me that name because my service weapon and I have a very special relationship.” He finished laying down the last of the transporters.

“So basically, it’s because you are trigger happy?” Agent Ross raised a deep red eyebrow.

“Yes.” He grinned.

“Okay…Bam.” Lillian continued shaking her head. “My point is, when we create items with our minds, it’s not sorcery! Our suits help us bend molecules into the weapons we desire. We don't summon them from the pits of Hades with a book of magic!”

“Noted, Little Ross,” he responded, focusing on the woman’s heart-shaped face and glossy parrot-red hair. “Now, is it just me or does this perpetrator look familiar to you?”

Agent Ross made a noise of annoyance in her throat before moving to stand beside him. She inspected the unconscious woman's features. “Is that?” she asked.

“Yes,” Bam affirmed. “Younger, gorgeous ginger hair, but it's definitely her. I'd know those inviting hips anywhere.”

“Why does she look like this? And why is she killing people?” Lillian frowned.

“I don’t know.” Bam clenched his jaw. “But, we are going to find out. Take the child to Chief Heller. Inform him that Detective Deluca’s ex-wife and her husband were just murdered. Let him take it from there.”

“Yes sir.” Lillian began to leave, but stopped short. “Are you going to tell Detective Deluca about this?”

“No,” Bam said.

“But sir, his ex-wife is dead and his current wife is, well...he should know.”

“Listen, Little Ross.” Bam turned a narrowed gaze toward the young woman. “He has been through a rough two months. He is a single dad looking after a baby alone. We cannot tell him that we have found his missing wife and she just murdered two people. We will take her to Doctor Plinkton and get her checked out. I’ll tell Chris when the time is right.”

“Roger that, sir.” Lillian seemed to take his words as an indication of the end of their conversation. She opened a portal in time and stepped into the dark vortex.

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Look Out For:

The Metal Swan Portal. (2015)

Keeping it Fausty. (2015)

Sun Suvivors. (2015)

The Village of Pakaii. (2016)