The Worlds of the Traveler

Chapter Two: The Officer

The man gave his wife a concerned, questioning glance. She simply gestured for him to leave the room. The knocking returned a moment. Four simple knocks. The man turned from the room and headed for the door rather quickly, muttering under his breath. It was a lot to take in, both his wife's explanation and the officer now knocking at their door.

The woman watched him leave the room, and instantly she began panicking, muttering, and moving things around the room. He would've found her eventually, but she wasn't ready. She thought she still had years. She hadn't been the Traveler in nearly six or seven years. Why was he still after her?

The woman grabbed a sweater that hung halfway out of a box of random clothing items and threw it at the chair near the door. She began rummaging through other boxes, looking for something, anything. Bad memories tried to shift her focus. Lost memories, not being able to save those she cared about, the dagger. He likely had it with him. After all, it was his favorite thing to taunt her with back then. He likely kept it with him all the time, should he have ever found her again.

Her hand wrapped around the handle of a kitchen knife that had somehow not made it downstairs with the rest. Perfect. The woman carried it out the door with her, grabbing the sweater and wrapping it around her as she neared the stairs.

She heard the voices downstairs, but they were blocked out by memories that had decided to take up her mind. Always on the run from him. This officer had picked a fight with her years ago, the reasons still unclear to her. He had a normal life, he was a good man.

Slow steps, one by one, down the stairs. The knife was now flat against her chest, hidden by the sweater, the woman crossing her arms. Slowly descending the stairs and heading towards the door, she took a quick deep breath.

"Hey, honey, what's going on?" the woman interrupted the conversation between the two men, giving the officer a soft smile. He hadn't changed much. Looked nearly the same as he had years ago, reddish-brown hair under his police cap, a matching short beard and mustache. The same blue uniform he always wore. The only change was he looked more worn and slightly older. Her eyes spotted the sheath the dagger was kept in, and sure enough, a hilt rose just above it. She was right, he brought it.

"This is Officer Johnson. He thinks we know something about a Traveler," the man responded, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at his wife. Was she suddenly cold?

"The Traveler, actually. Like, the original," the officer glanced at the woman who had entered. If it was who he thought it was, she really hadn't aged a day. She looked the same as the last time he saw her. Probably why it had been so easy to eventually find her once she settled down.

"I'm sorry, the- that name doesn't sound familiar," the woman kept her eyes on the officer.

"Well, you see, she was involved in quite a few, incidents, if you will," the officer let himself into the house and off the porch, the glass door closing behind him. The light slam of it caught the woman off guard, and she flinched. She kept her kind smile, but her eyes were now wide with worry.

"If I see or hear anything about her, I'll be sure to let you know."

"I don't think you understand the threat she poses. You see, she went missing about seven years ago."

"So why keep hunting her down if she's gone?" the woman leaned against the wall, adjusting her arm so one hand now wrapped around the knife handle.

"I have reason to believe she's not gone. That she's simply blending in with the general population."

"We told you, we don't know of her or where she is," the man chimed in, moving between the officer and his wife. The officer now had a hand gently wrapped around the dagger on his belt.