Lakeview Apartments, Forest Park, Clayton County, Georgia. Monday, October 7th, 2019. 11:40c.

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Sara had to secure funds. She had two options. Rob Costco manager's office, or just take the stash of money and gold next door. Which one was the easier, she wondered with a derisive snort. Mr. Taylor was away from home and would only come back right at Armageddon. Six hours from now.

She put on gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints, prepared lockpicks out of scrap metal, and went outside. She checked the corridor. Empty. Sara walked to Mr. Taylor's door as if she was going to ask for a cup of sugar. Nobody yet. The building didn't have any cameras on the corridors. She knelt and picked the lock with ridiculous ease despite the improvised bob pin rake, chucking that the lawyer hands from YouTube would be mad that a criminal was using a Master Lock on his front door. A crime in itself. Sara didn't try again to prove it was not a fluke. She gave it no fucks.

She opened the door and saw everything just as she remembered. Sara tiptoed to the bedroom, glancing at the computer in the office which allegedly held a shit-ton of highly illegal and awfully immoral media. She flipped the mattress against the headboard to reveal the steel lockbox. The lock seemed complex. But the world would only end at rush hour, the internet still worked.

She took her phone and searched. Five minutes later, she found a video, not by the Magic Hands Lawyer, that told her how to open the lockbox.

She almost yelped when the lid came up. Dozens of bars of gold, brand new banknote bundles. The lockbox must've contained hundreds of thousands of dollars. Mr. Taylor could be living in a place way better than this shitty wooden five over one. Giving it some thought, he was probably laying low, hiding in plain sight. She stashed the cash in her bag, spent a few moments thinking, then decided to take a few gold bars with her. When she cleared the top, she noticed a photo album underneath. Curiosity won and Sara checked it.

She became sickened. Suffice to say, Mr. Taylor not only sold the media, but he also participated in it. The photo album... deserved a call to 911.

She left the lockbox open, the album open, and went back to her apartment, leaving the door unlocked. Sara called an Uber and went to the Clayton County library. At a nearby strip mall, she bought a prepaid cellphone. She paid in cash and tipped well. Brand new C-notes.

Only then she called Forest Park PD.

"911, what's your emergency?" The dispatcher sounded bored.

Sara tried to speak in her deep register, "I need to contact detective Winston Keynes. Is he available? I am one of his informants."

"Ma'am, I need your name and address." The dispatcher sounded suspicious.

"Nice try. Look, I have an anonymous tip for Keynes. A big bust. But he needs to strike while it's hot. He'll need a search warrant, and stuff. Just patch me through."

"This call is being recorded." The dispatcher was basically telling her to stop pranking at this point.

"I know that. Thanks for the heads up. Look, he gave me his card but I lost it. Oh, damn. They're entering. I need to go. They are armed. Please, send help. I'm at Forest Park, Jonesboro Road, Lakeview Apartments," she said the rest of the address, giving Mr. Taylor's apartment number. Then she hung up.

She had serious doubts they would send Keynes. After giving it some thought, Sara used her own phone to call her liaison with the Marshals.

"You reached US. Marshal Deputy Barnes. Who's talking?"

Barnes was super professional. Sara knew he had her phone on his contact list but he still pretended to not have.

"It's Sara. Look, someone broke into my neighbor's apartment. I heard them over the window. There's... statutory rape media in there. Photo, video, you name it. I contact local law enforcement, but they won't move their fat butts."

Barnes paused, then huffed a sigh, "Is this a prank, Sara?"

"We know each other for how long? Two years? Did I ever give anyone trouble? I know you check my school grades. Why would I play a prank on the guy that's literally keeping me away from the mafia and alive?" She ranted, a bit angry and hurt.

Barnes relented and softened his voice, "Okay. I'll contact the state troopers. Where is it again?"

"No, get Detective Winston Keynes from Forest Park PD on the case. He's a good cop. Honest one, a rarity. Just, dunno, cut through the red tape. For the kids, okay?"

The deputy Marshall hummed with approval, "Sure thing, Sara. You got me curious. Are you safe?"

"I'm not home right now and won't be back until late at night. I have a RPG game with the guys tonight. Mrs. Atkinson not only is informed but has greenlighted it too."

"Don't do drugs," Barnes joked with a chuckle.

"I won't, even if the world ends today. I swear to God. Oh, one more thing. The perp will come back home by five thirty but no later than five forty. The cops might want to do a stakeout."

"I really hope this is not a prank," Barnes sounded a bit tired. "God knows how many innocent people were harmed by swatting pranks. You'll get your police raid, Sara. Stay safe."

"I will. I promise. Thanks, Barnes. You'll do a good deed today."

"Roger wilco."

Barnes hung up.

*

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*

Christine Appleby's Residence, Forest Park, Clayton County, Georgia. Monday, October 7th, 2019. 12:00c.

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She had barely touched the doorbell when the door opened.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"You must be Sara!" Mrs. Appleby gushed. "Please, come in! The other girls are in Chris's bedroom already!"

Christine's mother was an older, mature, and just as gorgeous version of the teenage blonde. Damned genetic lottery. Sara smiled and let Mrs. Appleby hug her.

"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Appleby —"

"Sabrina. Mrs. Appleby is my mother-in-law," Sabrina grinned.

"Sure, sorry, I didn't..." Sara stammered.

Mrs. Appleby giggled.

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about. It's your first visit and here I am, burdening you with my insecurities. Please, pay it no mind. Here, I'll take you to Chris's room."

Sara knew the way. She'd looted the whole house upside down in another reality. Nonetheless, she let Sabrina guide her. The woman knocked on the door before opening it straight away, a mischievous grin as she hoped to catch the teenagers doing something naughty like holding hands.

"Chris, Sara is here!"

The three were sitting on the bed, talking. Sabrina gently pushed Sara inside. Pamela was glaring, Mary was looking between the two contenders for alpha bitch, and Christine was pouting at her mother.

"Hey, guys," Sara waved trying to diffuse the tension. She fidgeted with the backpack in her hands.

"I'll bring some refreshments. Strawberry juice?"

"Thank you, Mrs..." A glare made Sara change her mind. "Sabrina!"

The door closed. Christine dropped her mask and stared. "So, Sara. Can you explain to us what happened back at school? You weren't your usual loser self."

To think Sara kissed those ephemeral lips. But she had her magic to rely on.

"Why do you need everyone to go to Stonecrest Lake Mall?" Mary asked.

Instead of replying, Sara pulled the backpack zipper open and retrieved the stacks of cash. Brand-new cash, straight from the bank to Mr. Taylor's safe and now hers. She met the gaze of the other three teens.

"I am willing to put my money where my mouth is. Here, Christine. You handle it." Sara dumped the three bundles of banknotes, with the bank band intact on Christine's lap. Three bundles of C-notes, one bundle of Grants. "Is thirty-five grand enough?"

Pamela wheezed. Mary froze. Christine glared, "Is this drug money? Some people say you sell drugs, Sara."

She met the blonde's gaze. "No, I don't do drugs. This money is better spent by us. I stole it from someone really bad who's about to die in the next seven hours. Not a drug dealer."

"Do you have more?" Pamela inquired with a wicked smirk. "Guiddo?"

The inference made Sara freeze. She had to come clean.

"Pamela, we need to talk," Sara decided with a defeated sigh. "Christine, can we borrow your closet?"

The blonde absentmindedly replied. Her focus was on ruffling the banknotes, "Sure, go ahead."

The two went into the walk-in closet.

"Pamela, I'm sorry," Sara said as apologetically as she could, in a low voice. "I did a horrible thing to you but I needed you to change gears fast and get along with the plan. I won't blackmail you or anything. I believe you can do anything you want and I'm not judging. But please, can you keep playing along? Just for today?"

"You are not Power Guiddo?" Pamela trembled with repressed rage and disbelief.

"No. But I've seen your video. The one sponsored by that Brazilian guy. The one with the huge black—"

"That's enough," Pamela curtly cut her off. "You are not off the hook, blackmail or not. What do you want, Sara?"

Sara met Pamela's killer glare with the kindest eyes her Skills could stamp in her face. "To save your life. I'm not kidding. The lies at school, the money, this conversation. Everything I'm doing today has a single objective. Save as many people as possible."

Pamela kept staring impassibly. Sara could tell she didn't buy it. Her lips parted and she reached out with a hand. "Okay. If you want my cooperation, hire me for the day. I want ten grand. I'll even take you to my studio and record a special show just for you," Pamela grinned wickedly. "My biggest fan."

'Once a bitch and a whore...' Sara cruelly thought.

Sara reached inside her backpack and pulled two gold bars. "Here. These are worth ten grand. We can go visit the Regal Lakeside in the weekend."

Pamela took the two yellow metal bars and moved closer, stopping an inch from Sara's face. Her gaze was on fire. "You even know where it is. You filthy stalker."

Feeling that the bridge was not only burnt but had charred into ashes even before being erected in the first place, Sara met her gaze, "I do. You should at least set a password on your computer."

"How did you enter?"

"The door was unlocked during a power outage," Sara replied honestly. "Eric's fault."

"How do you know Eric? Did you go to one of his parties?"

Sara would let Pamela think what she would. She knew that Eric would die even with the time bubble. "Not one of those parties, no. But I spent a few days at the penthouse. Had to even clean Eric's goo from the open-air hot tub."

Pamela broke down laughing. She had a totally 'amused evil bitch' smirk plastered on her face. "We are not that different, are we? You filthy little whore."

Another Sara, one who didn't go through the System Dimension Mexican Standoff and got kicked into another reality would take offense at that. The current time-traveling Sara with maxed-out Composure? She took it with aplomb and even winked at Pamela.

"A girl needs to do what she has to do to survive, right? Especially an orphan like myself. Say, did that huge black dildo hurt when you rode it?"

Pamela winced. "It hurt like a bitch, like you wouldn't believe. I spent a week without walking straight." She clinked the two gold bars together. "We have a deal, Sara. I can even let you join in on the video, we can play together. Do a colab. After your birthday, we can even help you set your own account. I get a referral bonus for each new girl I convince to sign in to the websites. And the guys love fresh meat."

Pamela bumped her hip against Sara.

"I'll give it some thought. But robbing pedophiles is way more profitable," Sara winked. "Ah, Pamela. Make sure Mary takes her family with her to the mall, everyone. Including Granny Amelia. Do whatever it takes to get them there. Your folks too. Everyone you want to save."

"You're crazy," Pamela derided.

Sara smiled whimsically, "You have no idea. Get everyone's parents there. The Appleby's, yours. Whoever you want to save, take them there. here's, another gold bar for your troubles."

"Got more of those there?" Pamela asked, trying to glance inside Sara's backpack.

Sara jiggled the backpack. She did. "Do your job and I’ll show you."

They went back. With Pamela on her side, Convincing Christine of throwing the biggest party and flash mob at the Stonecrest Mall had ever seen was easy.

*

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*

Lakeview Apartments, Jonesboro Road, Forest Park, Clayton County, Georgia. Monday, October 7th, 2019. 14:00c.

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Blue and red lights flashed on her apartment ceiling. A dozen police cars were in the parking lot, and twice that number of cops swarmed the building. A few doors down the corridor from Sara's apartment, Mr. Taylor's unit was being torn down. They hadn't spared even the walls, searching for child porn secret stashes. Sitting in the living room, Sara just listened to the cops ripping open the walls in search of even more damning evidence.

Soon enough, someone knocked on her door.

"Who is it?" She asked.

"Clayton County Sheriff, open up."

"Sorry, officer. I'm calling my parents. Hold on."

Immediately, more banging on the door. "Police! Open up!"

"I'm invoking my Fourth Amendment rights. You are not welcome and I know you don't have a warrant, officer!" Sara replied as she took her phone. "I'm recording video and audio." The phone rang. Marshal Deputy Barnes, her witness protection liaison officer. Sara answered and spoke as loud as she could, "Marshal Barnes, there's someone violent claiming they are cops outside my door! I'm scared for my life!"

"Who did they claim to be?" Barnes asked.

Sara explained everything out loud. Soon, she heard radio noises and voices out there, and the cops walked away.

"Sara, are you safe?" Barnes continued.

"Yes, I'm home. I was trying to call my parents, Marshal. What should I do?" On second thought, she was tougher than the door. She braced it in case they tried to be funny and ram it open.

"Stay home. Your tip was confirmed to be hot. I'm going there to aid the investigation and shelter you. The prosecution might want to subpoena you."

"Thank you, deputy Barnes."

"Okay, stay home, stay away from the windows. Or we'll have to relocate you again."

Barnes hung up. Silence in the corridor for a minute. Sara heard radio buzz, electronic voices, she wondered how the hell the cops could understand that voice.

"Are you all right in there, miss?" A guy outside asked. Politely this time.

"Yeah. Did the deputy Marshal contact you already?"

"Yes, miss. Have a nice day. Thank you for your cooperation."

Today was Armageddon. Sara sputtered and broke into a fit of nervous giggles. "I'll have a nice day even if the world ends at rush hour, officer."

They went on, to bang on the next door and bother more neighbors for nothing.