Out of Time
“Fiddlesticks!” Liv bellowed, slamming wrinkled hands against the dash. She was out of time.
No, literally. She was out of time. By twenty ruddy years!
“Gosh darned, unreliable, useless piece of tech!” She yelled at the console, “you had one job! Get me safely to June of 1964. Where have you dropped me? June of 1944!” She tittered on furiously.
Liv deftly flipped switches to power down her vehicle, lights dimming, screen blinking off. These newer time machines were really only good for one jump before needing to recharge – something about ‘conserving energy’ and being ‘better for the environment’. So not only were they hideous, lacking all the charm and character of older models, but also utterly useless in a crisis.
Which this most certainly was. She had the future of her grandchildren to think about, and what could be more important than that!
Liv was now technically on the lam. At large. A walking stick toting renegade. At the ripe age of 72 she found the notion quite exhilarating, putting a spring in her step she’d admittedly not felt in years! Not everyone could say they’d managed to sneak into the ‘Organisation Of History Through Time’ and stolen a brand new Time Travelling Vehicle. Being an ex employee and good friend (likely ‘ex’ good friend, now…) of the administrator had helped, of course. It had been all too easy to get an invitation to check out the new facilities, and really, whoever expected a pleasant old lady of such derring-do?
Whilst she wouldn’t usually congratulate such misdemeanors, facts were it was quite the emergency. That pompous, oaf of a man absolutely could NOT remain Prime Minister, and never should’ve been to begin with. She’d have none of it! She’d made up her mind, intending to snatch him from his birth and switch him to a different family – one where he’d do much less harm!
Of course, now she was in the wrong time, in the middle of London during the War, possessing a fried machine and Time Police likely hot on her heels.