Just a little under a mile from the Lone Pine Mall, on a deserted road, the silence of the night was suddenly broken by a few flashes of light then the sound of small explosions. The Delorean appeared from nowhere and came to a quick stop in the road. It was covered in ice.
The wing door opened and Marty stepped out, looking around in amazement. He was still dressed in the yellow suit. He looked at the time circuit and it read October 12, 1985 1: 23 AM. Marty grins.
“Great! I still have time,” he said to himself as he started quickly ripping off his radiation suit. He threw the suit in the passenger seat and jumped back in the Delorean. Slamming the door shut behind him he turned the key and... click. NOTHING!
Flustered and frantic, he turned the key over and over. Still Nothing.
“Dammit,” he spewed, “Not now, any time but now.” He kept frantically turning the key and simultaneously pumping the gas pedal (as if that will help). He threw his forehead on the steering wheel in total frustration.
Looking at the time he'd lost 2 minutes.
He threw open the wing door again, jumped out and pushed the car to the side of the road, setting the emergency brake. Looking once again at the timer he muttered, “It's about ¾ of a mile in 7 minutes... I can make it,” he encouraged himself, “I still got time!” He started running. The thought never occurred to him until he got ½ mile away from the Delorean he stopped, realizing his mistake.
“What am I doing? I'm an idiot?” He scolded himself. He looked back down the ½ mile he'd just run. I've got a time machine, I've got all the time in the world! I can just fix that piece of crap and go back in time even earlier.
Then something dawned on him. “...but what if there's no fixing it, what if it's broken for good? What if all those bullets damaged the time machine? “ He shook his head then took off again, running even harder now. Huffing and puffing. “I... hate... running,” he complained, wishing he had his skateboard.
He ran hard until the Lone Pine Mall loomed into view a ways ahead of Marty as he ran. Suddenly he heard distant gunshots and screaming!
“OH NO!” He exclaimed and started sprinting. “Why don't I ever go to the gym?” He bemoaned, out of breath. He ran up to the sign and looked down in total dismay. He could now see the limp figure of Doc Brown lying on the pavement. He looked toward the photo
booth and saw the blue VW microbus lying on its side in the wreckage, burning. He saw the now familiar fire trail of the Delorean after it time jumped.
When he looked back at Doc he can't believe his eyes. A lone figure runs toward Doc. It looked like... him. It looked like Marty. Another Marty Mcfly?
“It's... me,” he muttered in disbelief, “but look at me, I'm dressed like a dork.”
The Marty he sees is dressed in a reddish quilted vest and cheap jeans. “What's with that vest?” He asked himself. “It looks like a life jacket.”
The other Marty now sat down next to Doc and turned away, obviously mourning the loss of his friend. He stared down at the scene in total shock and fascination tearing up all over again. The other Marty turned away from the sight of Doc and he also turned away.
“Dammit Doc! What the hell is going on?” He sat down and watched the other Marty below as he paced for a while. He heard the sirens approaching at the same time as the other Marty did.
The other Marty then retrieved Einstein out of the van (who had been barking now for a few minutes). The other Marty then grabbed the yellow case of plutonium, closed it and picked it up. About 5 minutes had gone by now.
Our Marty stood up and determined to fix whatever was going on.
“I'll just get the time machine fixed,” he decided. “Then I'll go back again, maybe a day or two and make sure this disaster never happens!”
He looked once again down the road in the direction of the approaching sirens. Then ducks behind the mall sign as numerous police cars and a fire engine come near. He looked down and the other Marty kneels down one last time and kisses the forehead of Doc Brown still lying still and then he ran off, with Einstein following closely on his heels.
Our Marty kept an eye on the new Marty, following him from a safe distance and staying out of sight of the emergency vehicles so as not to be spotted. He looked behind at the carnage in the mall parking lot. The police were arriving and swarming around Doc's moving van and the VW bus. He stopped and watched for a few seconds making sure he did not lose sight of the new Marty and Einstein. He wanted to learn the fate of the Libyans but the other Marty was rapidly disappearing in the direction of town.
“Who are you?” He asked the other Marty running off into the night. He ran after him.
When they reach town, the other Marty and Einstein appear from around a corner with our Marty not far behind. He is stunned to see another Delorean sitting in the middle of town square. Obviously where the other Marty had left it. Red, the former Mayor turned homeless guy, is standing near it, drinking from a paper bag and muttering to himself about crazy drunk drivers leaving their cars in the middle of streets, commenting how it never used to be this bad when he was Mayor.
At this sight our Marty held back, his eyes wide with amazement and perhaps some confusion.
The other Marty opened the trunk and was about to put the plutonium case in. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a siren wails and several police cars roll in fast . They hit the other Marty with spotlights and he put his hands up. Einstein too got up on his hind legs and put his paws up.
He made his way first for town and Doc's workshop. He needed money if he was going to get the Delorean fixed. At Doc's workshop, he went up to the doorway and sighed in relief when he found the key under the mat. “Some things never change” he commented in delight, flipping keys in his hand. He entered and looked around.
Marveling, he said, “it's exactly as I remember it!” He saw the dog food and waved his hand in front of his nose. “Exactly!”
He went to the phone and grabbed a nearby phone book, thumbing through it. He then dialed.
“Frank's towing,” a voice on the receiver said. “Oh good, you're open.”
“24 hour towing service,” the voice said, sounding irritated. “What can I do you for?” “I need a tow,” said Marty.
“Go figure,” said the voice sarcastically.
Marty gave the man on the phone directions to where the Delorean was. He told him he thought there might be something wrong with the starter. There's a pause.
“Cash or credit,” the man asked.
“Hang on” he said into the phone. He ran back to a desk drawer across the room, rifled through it and produced a credit card. It had Doc's name on it and a yellow sticky that said “For emergencies only.”
“I think this qualifies, Doc!”
He ran back to the phone and gave them the man the number. Waiting a few moments while he ran it.
“Good to go,” said the man, “you're pre approved for our VIP service.” Marty frowned, not knowing if the guy was joking or not.
“Oh, can you come pick me up,” asked Marty, before you go out there to get my car?” There was a pause.
“Since I'm pre-approved for your VIP service,” Marty added. The man said, “sure thing, kid.”
“I'm at 1646 Riverside Drive.”
“Old man Brown's place,” said the man on the phone. “I know it.” “Of course you do,” Marty said, exhausted.
* * * * * * * * * *
The old Texaco star is a gas station, convenience store, and above the old garage is a sign that reads, “FRANK'S COMPLETE AUTO CARE AND TOWING.” A tow truck pulled up with the Delorean in tow and Marty, sitting silently in the front passenger seat. The truck stopped and Marty got out.
The guy shrugged. “We'll call ya.”
“Okay,” said Marty, disappointed that he didn't get at least a time estimate.
“Listen,” said Frank, “Let me drop this heap off and I'll run ya home, kid, the sun's coming up soon.”
Marty thought about it then sighed and nodded. “I am pretty tired, it feels like I haven't slept in decades.