The trio paused beside a sizable dumpster. "This is a blind spot. We should be safe for a moment," the guard remarked.

"I just need some landmarks; then I can locate the playground where Adam hid the supplies," she replied, contemplating warm clothing, as her workout attire felt insufficient. She anticipated enjoying an MRE and refreshing herself, camping-style.

Papa raised his eyebrows in admiration, realizing that Lara and Adam had prepared for whatever lay ahead. He recognized Lara's struggles with navigation and assumed Adam had guided her by pointing out important landmarks.

Until now, he had viewed Lara as naive, believing himself to be the more enlightened one—the wolf among sheep, as he put it. He had dismissed her compassion for the less fortunate as weakness, but now he saw her unwavering determination in both her work and parenting.

Previously, he had considered her spiritual beliefs to be whimsical and fanciful. However, the gravity of the situation shifted his perspective. He felt foolish, nearly laughing at his earlier misconceptions.

It became evident that Lara's faith surpassed his own; she was dedicated to a higher cause, while he had allowed pride to keep him lost.

Shaking off his thoughts, he scanned the area. "I see the chapel. Did you and Adam use that as a reference point?"

Lara nodded. "Yes, if we’re at the back door, looking right, the playground is just a block over there."

The guard interjected, "We can't go directly to the church, but I know a path that will keep us out of sight."

A sudden thunderclap echoed, and the earthy scent of petrichor filled the air, signaling an impending downpour. Lara shivered; spring in the Midwest was unpredictable, contrary to popular belief.

"What day is it?" she asked the guard, knowing she and Papa might not have an accurate sense of time.

"Easter day," he replied. They all exchanged glances at their grim surroundings, taken aback by the irony of their situation.

They began following the guard, with Papa scrutinizing him for signs of betrayal, while Lara focused on the buildings, mentally retracing the map in her head to ensure they were heading in the right direction.

Soon, they arrived at the playground, but Lara saw no sign of her family. She was aware they had been there two days earlier, but hoped to catch a glimpse of them, even if just in her imagination.

Spotting a marble on the ground, she exclaimed, "This is Isaiah’s, I can feel it." A smile crossed her face as she prayed for her family's safety.

"It'll be alright, Lara. Adam knows what he’s doing," Papa reassured her, his optimism providing the comfort she needed.

"Over here!" she called, noticing a hint of red. Could it be the collapsible wagon they had brought?

They hurried behind some bushes and found the supplies—a substantial stash.

"Wow," the guard exclaimed, while Papa, confident in Adam’s preparations, noted how well everything was packed, reminiscent of his own teachings.

“I see a fire over there, and someone is signaling for us to approach,” the guard added earnestly as the rain began to pour heavily, winds picking up and dark clouds looming overhead.

They scanned their surroundings, realizing troops were rapidly closing in on them from three sides. Behind them lay a wooded area providing potential cover.

“The man by the fire is urging us to hurry,” the guard said.

Lara and Papa exchanged glances, uncertainty clouding their judgment. Could they trust this guard? Was this a trap? Why could he see the fire when they could not?

“What’s your name, son?” Papa asked in a commanding tone.

“Raul,” he replied, seemingly unfazed by their doubts, exuding sincerity.

Lara’s mind raced. “This feels like a test,” she said, making eye contact with Papa, who began to understand the constant trials Lara faced as a mystic traveler.

As if reading his thoughts, she added, “The Creator needs me to have faith. Faith is our primary means of communication, which is why I’m constantly tested.”

The term 'Creator' suggested a shift in her language since meeting her Hindu friends. Did she mean God?

Papa refrained from questioning her terminology, assuming she still referred to the Father God, unaware of the deeper connections she had recently discovered.

“Before we make a run for it, we must decide what to take. Speed is essential,” Papa noted, spotting the approaching troops.

“Prioritize firearms, ammunition, and communication,” Raul advised, quickly gathering essentials.

Meanwhile, Lara picked up the red wagon, heavy yet manageable for her accustomed strength. She began sprinting toward the trees.

Soon, Raul and Papa outpaced her, with Raul leading the charge. “They’re almost upon us. Just a few more steps to safety!”

All three ran with all their might, rain pounding against them. Lara focused solely on pulling the wagon and sprinting, feeling as if the distance to the trees was endless, though it was only a few hundred yards. Her chest burned, and her breath became labored.

The chaos of the storm concealed them somewhat; without it, she doubted she would have made it. The men vanished into the trees, while she marked the entry point into the foliage and dashed toward it.

She could hear shouts behind her. “Stop! Or we’ll shoot!”

But she didn’t stop. She pushed herself harder.

Gunshots rang out, and she fervently prayed for the bullets to miss. She felt some whiz past her, striking the forest around her.

Just seconds remained until she reached the woods. The landscape ahead changed; the entrance she aimed for revealed a blazing fire, blurry yet inviting. Summoning all her strength, she leapt through the threshold, leaving Kansas behind.

For a fleeting moment, she floated in a void of whiteness, her momentum carrying her into oblivion. Eventually, the rush subsided, and she found herself safe and dry.

Lara discovered she was sitting in a large cave, a bonfire at its center within a circular indentation in the floor. Above, a hole allowed smoke to escape into the cold night sky.

“Papa, Raul!” she exclaimed joyfully, spotting them close to the fire, already eating. They glanced up, continuing to enjoy their meal, plates full of vegetables and biscuits, mugs of hot beverage at their sides.

“Lara, we thought you’d never arrive,” Papa said, clearly having settled in long before she had. Time felt different here. “We’re already on our second helping,” he smiled broadly.

Lara noticed a man sitting across from them, dressed in an old-fashioned manner, a welcoming smile on his face. Instinctively, she recognized they had traveled back in time.

“Please, make yourself comfortable. There’s a private area in the back for you to freshen up. We have plenty of time,” he said. She felt an urge to clean up.

The designated area was pleasant, with a sandy restroom tucked away, well-ventilated and tidy. A small river offered a warm sponge bath, complete with useful instruments for her hair and comfortable clothes laid out for her.

Gazing at her reflection in the river, surrounded by stars, she was struck by her serene environment.

Upon returning, she saw a plate of food prepared for her, as the men seemed to have finished their meals.

As she prepared to sit down, she glanced at their enigmatic host, who possessed a peaceful demeanor and an air of patience.

“Professor?” Raul and Papa looked at her quizzically, but the Professor nodded approvingly.

“Are you… Are we…? Professor, where are we?” she finally managed to ask.

His answer astonished her. “Tibet.”

Lara’s jaw dropped; she had imagined Tibet as merely a high plateau, yet they were in a vast cave. How had the Professor arrived here, and why did he appear so youthful?

“This is a sacred place. Tibet is home to numerous natural and manmade caves. This one has historically served as a meditation space, both before and after Buddhism. We will not be disturbed here,” he explained.

Lara had many questions, but the Professor urged her to eat. The men engaged in light conversation as she regained her strength.

The Professor resumed speaking. “When I encountered you in 1965, my time on Earth was nearing its end. You opened my eyes to new dimensions and possibilities. The Creator invited me to become a mystic traveler, and I remembered meeting you. In a way, you are my mentor.”

Lara was left speechless. He continued, “I learned about the human-alien conspiracy and sought to assist. However, to become a mystic traveler, I underwent years of training. From your perspective, I have trained for millennia.” Lara was taken aback.

“Please go on, Professor,” she encouraged, noticing he paused to catch his breath.

“In any case, I have come to support you in your time of need. The fire was a test. Raul is safe, but his fate diverges from yours. You and your Papa needed to take that leap of faith.” A collective sigh escaped them; it had indeed been a significant leap.

“No one blames you, Professor. You saved countless lives; you played a vital role in ending World War II,” Papa said knowingly, aware of the military strategy that had preserved Hiroshima and Nagasaki as targets.

The Professor's expression was inscrutable, and Lara sensed he was fulfilling his divine purpose to the best of his abilities. “Can you share what transpired?” she inquired.

“I can do better than that. I can show you.” The cave began to fade, and Lara felt herself moving through time.

To Be Continued...