Nora would remain calm. She would look at her surroundings, assess the situation, and come at things with a rational mind. That's how she always handled situations.

Without a rational mind, one would fall to insanity.

She blinked, breathed, allowed her eyes to roam around the strange contraption. It was reminiscent of a bus, though this differed from the small ones she saw in London. Windows lined either side of the lurching vehicle, each one accompanied by a seat made of slick, grey vinyl that gleamed in the sun. Yellow bars extended to the ceiling.

All seats were empty apart from three men occupying the front of the bus. One was driving the vehicle, the other was asleep, his head lulled to the side, lips parted. Snores sounded through the space. Her brows furrowed as she studied the third one; they were too still.

"Okay," she breathed, gripping her leather violin case to her chest. Her eyes fell to her seat, her deep sapphire skirts layer out around her. She touched the material, her brows furrowing. "This is not the same vinyl Eugen Baumann created. Has someone made modifications to his design?" The bus came to a stop and Nora's body shot forward. "Bloody-"

"Last stop!" The man in the driver's seat called back. Nora glared at him, grinding her teeth together. She brushed blonde locks from her eyes.

"And just where is this last stop?" Her mind was still reeling as she tried to piece together the clues available to her. Moments ago she'd been sitting in the library of the Alcock residence, reading the most recent post from her parents. It had been evening then, and she'd been the last one awake. She'd even sent her maid away, telling the girl she was capable of dressing herself for bed. Any memories between then and now were a scarce mixture of sleep and mountainous terrain passing by.

"You're at a campsite."

"Yes, I'm perfectly capable of seeing the trees scattered about. What I'd like to know, sir, is where I'm at. Not what."

The man scowled and the corner of Nora's mouth quirked up.

"I'm not your tour guide, kid. Get off the bus." He grunted, casting his eyes out the front window. "And whatever you do, don't wake Mr Dev." Her eyes narrowed, and she dragged her gaze from the driver to the sleeping man in the seat behind him.

"Perhaps my traveling companion could be a better source of information than you." The only response Nora received was a look from the driver that had the fine hairs on her arms rising. She studied his pale features, and scrawny body; disheveled attire and lackluster personality. He was far from the men she was used to seeing in Paddington, and worse than those she'd seen in Whitechapel.

"Very well," she'd get the answers to her questions, it was just a matter of when and how. Her gaze flitted to the window, a circular campsite sprawled about with various tiny houses dotting the plot. Trees lined the surrounding area.

For now, I suppose I should acquaint myself with where here is.

She stood from her seat and made to take a step into the aisle; a small object caught her attention. A toy lie face down on the black flooring. Her brows furrowed, and she reached for it.

"Hey!"

Nora jumped, gazing whipping to the driver. If looks were a weapon, she knew her breath would have ceased then and there.

"What'd I say?"

Her eyes traveled back to the toy before studying the rest of the aisle for any other strange objects. Adrenaline traversed her veins, her eyes narrowing. A rope—tied to the metal poles that extended to the ceiling—was set before her, a bell hanging from the center. The tingling at the base of her neck told her the driver was still watching; she wouldn't let him cloud her thoughts. If he wanted her off this bus without waking this Mr Dev, then so be it. Stepping over the doll, she made her way down the aisle towards the rope.

"It's not a rope," she corrected herself. "It's a jump rope." Nora let her hand hover over the material, wanting to study it closer, but still aware of the eyes that followed her. "Who would use it like this?" She glanced up, her sights set on the driver. The moment their eyes met, he looked away, shifting in his seat.

He has my answers.

Ducking under the jump rope, careful to stay away from the bell, she asked,

"Sir, what is this thing we're in?"

"It's called a bus, kid, haven't ya heard of one?" Nora bristled at the snarky tone.

"I've heard of them; I've not been living under a rock." She spit out. "This is much different from the ones I've seen. It's much larger and mechanical. When was it created? What is it powered by? Surely not steam."

The man rolled his eyes. "I dunno, sometime in the 1900s? I ain't a historian, and no, it ain't steam powered. It's called gasoline."

Gasoline?

The thought was a fleeting one as Nora's feet stopped moving. Her spine stiffened, her lips parting.

"1900s?" She looks up to the man. "That can't be correct. It's only 1888."

His bark of laughter sounds through the bus. "You're joking, right? It's 2020."

He must be lying.

She searched the reflection of his gaze, trying to pinpoint the deception, but failing with every passing second.

If he's telling the truth, there are certainly facts to back it up.

"But time travel? That's absurd. It sounds like one of Josie's stories." Her heart tugged at the mention of her friend. A burning sensation built behind her eyes. "132 years. None of them-" she clamps a hand over her mouth, giving a fierce shake of her head.

No.

She chastised.

Now is not the time. A rational mind is what will solve this situation.

She takes a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back and continuing towards the exit, stopping only when she comes to a small step down. A box filled with Christmas decorations lies at the base.

"You must be joking." she muttered. There were seats placed on either side of the box, leaving her the only option of stepping over it. She bit down on her lip, gripping onto the metal pole with her free hand while extending her leg as far forward as possible. "Bloody saints." She said, her foot touching the ground. She brings her other across, never loosening her hold on the pole until she's balanced on the other side.

A snicker at the front of the bus has her glowering at the man up front. She stuck her nose in the air, turning her attention away from him and to the seat holding the third passenger; the one that had been too still. Her stomach turns over on itself and she takes small, measured steps forward, clutching the violin case and preparing to attack if need be.

Peering around, her face contorts as confusion washes through her body. Her head cocks to the side, eyes studying the weird, plastic thing. From far away, it looked human, with golden hair, and a rather orange hue of a complexion, but she'd attributed that to a sickness of some sort. Now that she was closer, it was clear that this was anything but a living thing.

"What in God's name is this?"

"Our dear president."

"Surely you jest."

"'fraid not."

Nora looked to the man. "You let a weird, blow up thing lead your country?" She gasped, lifting a hand to her mouth. "Please, assure me this isn't England."

The man's eyes dart from her to the outside, silence filling the space between them for a long, torturous second. "I can't say nothin'."

"Right," she huffed, running a hand through her hair. "Of course you can't. How dimwit of me to think otherwise." She carried on through the bus, taking extra care to tiptoe past the sleeping Mr Dev. When she arrived at the space beside the driver, she allowed herself to breathe easy. Her eyes scanned the man, finding a small, plastic object pinned to his stained, blue shirt. "Ah, Mr. Greybo, apologies for not asking your name earlier."

He humphs. "Don't really matter much to me." He looks away and Nora frowns. She'd hope he might impart a little more before she took leave of the bus. Turning away, she faced the open door, a slight breeze of fresh air blanketing her. "And you are, kid?"

Nora froze before allowing a slight smile to curl her lips upwards. She looked over her shoulder, meeting Mr Greybo's eyes."Nora Poyntz, sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Nora hadn't a clue where she was or what was happening, but she knew one thing. There was power in knowledge, and Nora would make sure she was the strongest one in her situation.

To be continued...