Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
I’m glad I had the foresight to ask for the rest of the week off, so I could have Thursday to sleep and Friday plus the weekend to recover before returning to the gallery.
Life feels strange after recent events. It’s like nothing changed, but at the same time, everything has.
At first, I think I’m not going to find anything, but then I see a small story as a footnote the week after the accident.
Two people in critical condition after crash
Police believe drugs were involved in a crash late last Thursday evening, leaving a theatre director with serious injuries, and his female passenger in critical condition. Police are appealing for witnesses to the accident, which occurred at approximately 8:15pm on Carlyle Road, Shell Beach.
I take a photo of the article and put the paper back with the others before returning home. I’m tempted to tell Anna and Kelsey everything that’s happened, but I don’t want them to worry about me.
My phone beeps, and I see it’s a message from Frankie.
Let me know when you’re free, and we’ll organise a catch-up. I can’t wait to see you!
I ignore the message for now. I’ll deal with Frankie later.
The rest of the day seems to drag, and I can’t focus on anything else.
I look through the doses I have left and figure the four-hour dose should be enough.
All I want to do is witness the accident, so I should go back to 1999 an hour before, and then I’ll have enough time to see what happens afterwards.
I’m not actually sure what I’m trying to prove, but it feels important to view the incident that ruined Jarvis’s life and heavily affected mine.
Just after 7pm, I mix up a dose and gulp it down. I make myself comfortable on my bed and pray that I’m somewhere safe when I wake up in 1999. I don’t want a repeat of finding myself in the ocean. Although, that would have to be unusual at this time of day.
Jesus.
So much for somewhere safe. When I open my eyes, I see I’m in the driver’s seat of my car, and I’m hurtling down the highway.
I quickly get my bearings and realise I’m driving south. I’m almost where Jarvis pulled off the other night but going toward the city rather than Shell Beach.
This won’t do me any good.
I locate the nearest exit and find a way to get back on the other side to drive home. I need to be near the accident in just over an hour. Where was I even going?
It’s going to be cutting it fine. Why didn’t it occur to me that I might not be within easy driving distance when I came back?
I contemplate speeding up, but I don’t want to get pulled over by the police.
I again wonder what I hope to achieve by witnessing this car accident—but it seems like a bit of a coincidence I have the power to time travel to that exact moment. I remember thinking the same thing when I ran into both Frankie and Jarvis on my previous trips.
If I can’t change the future literally, I might learn something that makes coping with the future more manageable.
I turn on the radio to keep me distracted.
“The Y2K bug: what effect it might have on Queensland. Tune into Seven Nightly News every evening at six.”
I shake my head. “It had no effect, you crazy people!”
“…and now here’s our most requested song of the year so far. Britney Spears’ Baby One More Time.”
I listen to the iconic opening and feel strangely comforted. I can’t believe how long it’s been since this song was released.
I reach the outskirts of Shell Beach four minutes before the accident apparently occurred, and my heart pounds as I realise I might not make it.
I then see a car driving erratically in front of me, and I slow down so I don’t risk getting in its way should it get into trouble.
Wow. That person is a seriously bad driver.
I hang back even further, but then it speeds up, and the car seems to lose control.
I watch in horror as it veers off the road and hits a metal barrier before flipping over.
It all happens so fast that it takes a moment for me to realise I’m at the scene of Nia’s accident. This must be it.
Holy cow.
I quickly pull over and jump out, running over to the car.
“Are you okay?” I yell.
There’s no answer at first, and then I hear moaning.
I get on my knees and peer inside the car.
There are two people, presumably Nia and the director.
But there’s something strange.
Nia is in the driver’s seat.
And the director is unconscious.
“Nia?” I ask.
“Help me get out,” she says, panicked.
The window beside her is gone, and there’s glass everywhere. I belatedly realise I might cut up my knees, but I’m too distracted by the scene in front of me.
“Can you undo your seatbelt?” I ask.
“I’m not sure.” She fumbles around, and then I hear a click, and she flops to the ground, which is currently the inside roof of the car.
She reaches out with her hands, and I gently assist her through the broken window.
She lies on the road for a moment, panting. “Fuck.”
“Can you feel your legs?” I ask.
She wriggles them around. “Yeah, I don’t think anything’s broken.”
What is going on right now? Wasn’t Nia a paraplegic following this accident?
I need to make sure the director is okay. “I’m going to phone emergency services and call an ambulance.”
“Wait. Will they call the police? I’ll go to jail if I get done for this.”
“If it was just an accident, you won’t go to jail.”
“You don’t understand! This is my last chance. I’ve already got too many previous incidents on my record.”
What?
She suddenly sits up. “Quick. Let’s get Radford out of the car. You can take him to the hospital and drop me home on the way. No one has to know I was here.”
“What about all the blood? Your DNA will be everywhere. And what happens when Radford wakes up?” I wonder when DNA testing started to be used in Australia. Surely it was around in 1999?
“I’ll figure out an explanation if it comes to that.” She crawls over to the other side of the car and reaches through the window to unclick Radford’s seatbelt.
He crumples to the ground, and I watch in awed horror as Nia drags him through the window. She’s strong.
“Help me get him in your car,” she orders.
I hesitate for a moment. This is wrong on so many levels. I know I won’t face any consequences when I wake up, but what if there’s another Rachel who has to continue with this timeline? Will she end up in jail as an accessory to the crime?
“Tell me what happened first.”
She huffs. “Fine. We were celebrating our three-month anniversary and me scoring a role in a play, so we had a few drinks and took a little speed. Radford let me drive his car for the first time ever, and I guess I got a bit carried away.”
“Your three-month anniversary?” Wait. Did Nia already know Radford before Jarvis supposedly introduced them?
I then realise I should probably look like I’m doing something to help Radford, even if he was sketchy. Which is actually up for debate right now.
I help Nia load him into the backseat of my car, and she hops in the front passenger side.
“Where do you live?” I ask.
“Peregian Beach.”
“That’s not exactly on the way to the hospital from here.”
“Then just drop me off somewhere outside the hospital, and I’ll make my own way home.”
“What am I supposed to do if the hospital asks what happened?”
“Tell them you found Radford at the scene of the car accident. You don’t have to tell them about me.”
“I’m not sure it’s that easy.” And then I wonder if maybe it is. Apart from possible DNA tracking, CCTV wasn’t as prevalent back in 1999—at least not around Shell Beach. But I still wonder why this scenario turned out differently to what the news article—and Jarvis—said.
We reach the block before the hospital, and Nia holds up a hand. “Stop here.”
I reluctantly let her out. She leaves without saying another word, and I suspect she must still be pretty intoxicated.
Jeez. How am I now responsible for an unconscious director?
I pull into the emergency department’s driveway and call over a paramedic. “I found him at the scene of an accident on Carlyle Road,” I say.
The paramedic calls for a stretcher and opens the back door of my car.
After lifting him out with another paramedic, they place him on the stretcher.
“I have to go,” I say quickly.
“Wait. We’ll need your contact details,” one of them says.
“But I don’t know anything,” I say.
“Just in case the police need to reach you later on,” he says.
“Ah, okay.”
He hands over a notepad and pen. “Write everything down and hand it in at the front desk.”
He then disappears, and I contemplate doing a runner, but I figure I can give them a fake name and number, and then at least the cops won’t come looking for me tonight.
I scrawl down some random details and drop them inside, keeping my head down just in case there are cameras recording anything. I run back to my car and drive back up the highway.
Adrenaline rushes through my veins as I contemplate what just happened.
Did me witnessing the crash alter the events that happened originally? Could it have been something as simple as me just following the car? Maybe in the original timeline, there was no one around, so Nia drove faster, which caused a worse accident.
But one thing I couldn’t have changed with my presence was the fact that Nia was driving. If she was worried about losing her licence or going to jail, did she convince Radford to lie for her?
And since he went to jail, what was in it for him? Jarvis said he disappeared after his release, so this one event ruined his life too.
I worry I’ve discovered more than I can handle.
And I don’t know what to do next.