Free Mark Taylor: Genesis (Prequel in the Mark Taylor Series) by M.P. McDonald

he had the word ‘Vandal’ taped on front of his shirt like a nametag.
    It had been about twenty minutes and when a tow truck passed him and stopped near where he thought the car had been parked, he let out a breath of relief. He hid in the alcove of an art supply store for a little while longer, allowing the tow truck time to haul the vehicle away.
    When the coast was clear, he returned to his apartment and found the photographs on his kitchen counter still, only now they showed a double-parked truck—the very same one that had been in that spot last night.
    With a whoop, he pumped his fist in the air. He had done it! He had changed the photo. His cheeks felt like they were going to split from the strain of his grin. Would the driver even know that Mark had saved his life? For a second, he felt a sense of loss. It would have been nice to have a little recognition, but in his dream, he had seen a car seat in the back of the car along with a few small toys. The man was a father—Mark was sure of it—and now he wouldn’t leave his child fatherless. That was worth it even if he was the only one who would ever know it.
     

     
    After that first incredible save, Mark couldn’t resist using the camera every day. It was never a given that he would get a future photo, but that was half the draw. Some days, he developed the exact same photos that he had taken, but other days, a photo that didn’t belong would show up—sometimes more than one of the same incident. After studying the photos in the evening, he’d sleep, and the photos would come to life in his dreams. Day after day, he took the photos, and day after day, he made the saves. Like notches on a gun belt, he kept track, saving the photos of the ones he’d changed in a box under his bed. Someday maybe he’d tell someone about the camera, but for now, he kept it to himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share the secret—he did. The desire to tell someone was always coiled inside of him, ready to spring out, but as badly as he wanted to tell someone, he didn’t dare. What if someone stole it? He couldn’t bear to lose it, but he was sure that if news got out, it would be a target for theft. Who wouldn’t want a camera that showed the future?
    Another fear was, even if he gave in to the temptation to show someone else, what if it didn’t work when he tried to demonstrate the power? He would look like a fool. His greatest fear was that the government would get a hold of it. He knew what they would do. They would tear it apart to find out how it worked. It would be studied and tested and meanwhile, people who might have been saved would die while they ran their damn tests. Nope. Sharing the secret wasn’t an option. At least not at this time.
    About nine months after the first save, Mark sat on the edge of his bed and studied the latest photograph. It showed a clerk at a gas station in the process of being robbed at gunpoint. In the next photo, the clerk was on the floor behind the counter in a puddle of blood. He had taken the pictures the day before and the corresponding dream was still fresh in his mind. Taking his notes with him, he moved into the kitchen and sat on the stool at the breakfast bar.
     So far, most of his saves had involved accidents, not crimes. Could he prevent this? And if so, how? He didn’t own a gun and even if he did, he wasn’t about to get in a gunfight. He would probably do more damage than the criminal. No, he would have to notify the police about it. Somehow. His first challenge was nailing down the precinct where the robbery would take place. He pulled out the phone book and looked up the addresses, and picked out the precincts closest to the gas station. He stared at the numbers on the pad of paper, tapping the end of his pen against the pad. Now what? Just call them and report a robbery before it happened? They would either think he was involved or that he was a nutcase. The dream image of the murdered clerk popped into