Rift (Rift Walkers #1)

by Elana Johnson

  At Heath’s, I head to the backyard and climb into the tree house. I haven’t been up here for years, and it’s pretty sheltered from prying eyes. There’s enough room for both Cascade and me, but it’s a tight fit.

  Once we’re settled, our knees touching as we lean against the natural bark of the tree house, Cascade suddenly can’t look at me. She sits there in her tiny shorts and tank top, her eyes searching her hands. Surprisingly, she throws herself into my arms.

  She clings to me, but I don’t know where to put my hands. She’s not wearing enough clothing and I’m still hella mad at her for lying to me for months, for hanging out in my bedroom, for watching me change my clothes.

  She is Newt. The middle-aged man who’s been hanging out in my room for the past several months. I don’t know how many inappropriate jokes we’ve shared. Or how much I’ve told him about my life. I thought he was just some guy with a family and children my age.

  “He was like—” The pain in my voice sounds hella loud to my own ears. And did I just use a masculine pronoun to describe Cascade? I can’t make my thoughts settle down.

  Cascade smells like lemons and powder, which soothes my anger. Which only angers me more. I push her away. I need clarity so I can figure out what to say.

  “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you as soon as you found out about the rift. I just couldn’t say the words, and I didn’t want to tip off Guy—did you know that we all sign a contract that says we’ll never divulge who he is?—and there’s so much I have going on, and I just can’t stand you being mad at me.” Her voice carries an edge of hysteria, but she doesn’t cry again.

  “We’ve been friends for months.” My voice is foreign, filled with accusation and hurt. “Me and Newt, I mean.” I breathe in, then out, and she’s off again.

  “I created Newt, because he could get information I couldn’t. I didn’t want your dad to know I was Chloe Phillips. I’d already broken one of my agreements with him by disappearing and changing my identity. But as Newt, I had access to all kinds of things I didn’t as a standard walker. I know his schedule, when he’s home and when he’s not, who he’s talking to, everything. When you came online one night, I sort of couldn’t help contacting you.”

  I remember the exact night we met, and Newt didn’t “sort of” contact me. He appeared in my bedroom in the middle of a job. “You almost blew that jam. And—” My stomach drops to my feet. “You’ve known about the Black Hat for months.”

  She nods. “Yes, I have.”

  “You didn’t tell me anything about your jammer identity.”

  She presses her forehead to her knees. “No. I didn’t tell you anything. I kept hoping you’d, well, disappear.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “Then you go and say stuff like that, and I know there’s no disappearing for you.”

  My temper rises. “I have no idea what that even means.”

  “My grandfather knows about time travel and the rift, and he’s an inventor like your dad. That’s why I have so many gadgets.” She keeps her head down, and this makes the acceptance of her explanation much easier. My irritation vanishes the more she talks. “We’re just trying to make sure he gets the medical treatments he needs, and that our family in the past doesn’t get hurt. I want to….” She sighs, and I can imagine a million ways to finish that sentence.

  “I want my mother to get the credit she deserves. I want Saige to be happy. I want to stay here…with you.”

  “Can’t your mom just close the rift?” I reach for her hand again. She responds with a squeeze and a grateful smile. I want to kiss her so bad I can’t breathe. “Then this would all be over.”

  “In 2013, the technology is much more primitive,” Cascade says. “My mother is still learning about rifts and how they work. She has to control the laser energy influx and figure out how to contain the spillover radiation. I took everything we’d done over the course of five years, and she had to start over. I don’t think she’s learned how to open them when she wants, or close them when she’s done. It’s much more spontaneous than that.”

  “You took all your mom’s research and gave it to my dad, but you hate him. Why give him anything?”

  “I didn’t always hate him.” Her voice fades into nothingness, and I let her drift into her own thoughts. I understand that she believed my dad could save hers, and when he couldn’t, that’s when she started hating him. I wish I could’ve been there to help.

  “There are no laws regarding time travel in 2013, right?” I finally ask.

  “Right. Everything is much safer now, but my mom is the first to discover rifts. She doesn’t have the same luxuries we do.”

  With sudden clarity, I realize why Dad hasn’t registered the rift. Once logged, it will technically belong to the federal government. We might even have to move out of our house.

  “My grandfather wants me to give up; simply use the rift to get out of here,” Cascade says. “Get away from Guy, and go live my life somewhere else. Maybe he’s right.” She sighs and leans her head against the wall.

  I shake my head. I haven’t kissed her yet. I haven’t seen her when she first wakes up in the morning. I haven’t erased all the secrets between us, though this is a great start.

  The tree house feels like a safe place to say everything that needs to be said. The silencing plugs on the bottom ensure no one else will hear. So I take a deep breath. “You can’t leave.”

  She raises her head and looks at me, hearing more than those three words. “Your dad knows who I really am now. I can’t keep walking for him, but I have time left on my contract.”

  I have a lot more to say, but most of it Cascade already saw in my eyes earlier. “But you have to….” I trail off, because I’m not exactly sure what will take Dad down. I’m afraid of taking that step, because I don’t think there’s any coming back.

  “Nobody wins against him,” she says. “He didn’t become the Time Keeper by being nice.”

  “We can,” I say.

  “Cooper won’t even say who was with him. You know why?” Her grip on my hand tightens. “Because that’s protocol. If you get caught, you take your own punishment. No names, no pointed fingers. Guy hasn’t had anyone flip on him in years. The last guy that tried, died.”

  I think of Monroe, his hand on his electroray, warning me to be hella careful. “We can figure something out. You have tons of gadgetry.”

  “What’s your plan?” A flash of fierceness enters her eyes.

  I swallow against the silence. “I don’t really have a plan,” I say, rushing to add, “But we can come up with something. I mean, he’s my dad. No one knows him like I do.” I have the strangest feeling that I don’t know him at all.

  “We can come up with something,” she says, almost to herself. She ducks her head and fiddles with a thread on the hem of her tank top. I have a hard time looking away.

  “Maybe you could come with me.”

  I stand up, my heart suddenly pounding over my thoughts. Cas stands too, and the four feet that separate us is so far. She takes one hesitant step toward me. Quickly, and without thinking, I close the remaining distance between us, cup her face in both my hands, and kiss her. She tastes exactly how I imagined, like honey and warmth. The best part is, she kisses me back.

  Saige

  PRICE’S BEDROOM—OR WHAT I hope is his bedroom, what if I landed in the wrong year?—hosts an unmade bed, and various worn clothes strewn about. I turn around, and my fears about being in the wrong timeline vanish. Price’s desk contains that freaky hovering screen I saw in my bedroom, floating above my desk. I can’t see the paper-thin tablet.

  I dart through the bathroom and into what was Shep’s room. In Price’s time, the room is empty except for a few bookcases and bins against the wall. I hear a man talking, but his voice is too low to make out any words. Several sets of footsteps go down the stairs, and a door opens and then closes.

  I wait a few minutes before I ease the bedroom door open. When I see no one, I ru
n downstairs as quietly as I can. Once through the back door, I sprint across the lawn, using the light of the rift to seek safety behind the shed in the backyard. I find comfort in its familiarity—we have a much newer version of this shed in my time. My heartbeat has quieted, and I’m starting to think through what to do next when I hear, “Price!”

  The girl’s voice is shrill and filled with fear. I spring toward the corner of the shed and peer around it. I can’t see anyone, because the light from the rift is dazzling and bright.

  I dodge to the back corner of the house, to the porch, and peek through the railing. Dozens of men—all tall and muscular—line the sidewalk. Beyond them, the rift illuminates Price.

  And Cascade Kaufman—the freaky, spiky-haired girl who gave me the note. In this light, she is only silver and liquid. I need to talk to her, find out what she knows about my family.

  It’s all I can do not to cry out. But I can’t alert those men that I’m here, and Price and Cascade aren’t in a position to help me. They grasp each other’s hands, turn, and run.

  A sob claws its way up my throat. I need to follow them, but I can’t. The porch squeaks as more men join those on the sidewalk. After a brief meeting, the men split into groups, racing down the street in every direction except mine.

  Once the area has been vacated, I’m still standing there, wondering what to do. I have no idea where Cascade lives, or where she and Price might go to seek refuge. I have no way to contact either of them, as I didn’t think to bring my cell phone with me.

  The rift sucks into itself, leaving me truly alone in this strange time. I retreat to the shed. Dawn will arrive in only a couple of hours, and I can figure out what to do under the protection of the sun.

  I’ve just settled into the most comfortable position possible when someone whispers, “Who are you?”

  I jolt away from the voice, trying to place gender or age. I can’t speak, and even if I could I can’t tell this person who I really am. I fist my hands so it isn’t obvious I don’t have that glowing blue light in my palm.

  The grass rustles. “I’m Heath Stonesman. Price’s best friend.” A shadow comes closer, and I can tell he’s looking at me like he can see me. With his advanced technology, maybe he can. Maybe everyone here wears gridded contact lenses with a multitude of capabilities, including night vision.

  I press further into the shed, only somewhat relieved that the person who found me knows Price. Maybe Heath is the one who chatted me; maybe Price has told him all about me.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Heath whispers. “Did you come through the rift?”

  I nod. My voice still won’t quite work.

  “Why?” He cocks his head to the side, but there’s not enough light back here for me to see his face.

  “Cascade,” I manage to choke out. “I need to talk to her.”

  “Let’s get back to my house.” He offers me his hand. With my fingers in his, we run.

  Heath’s house is only a few blocks from Price’s, but the path we take is anything but straight. I’ve never climbed a fence before, but by the time Heath says, “This is my house,” I’ve scaled four.

  A sigh escapes as I sag against the post in his backyard. Heath glances over his shoulder toward me, pauses, and says, “Come on, it’s okay.” He looks like he wants to touch me, but pulls back at the last second.

  We cross the yard and enter the house. It’s darker inside than out, now that dawn is so close.

  “In here,” Heath says, ushering me into a room that looks into the backyard. It has a dining table and chairs. “My parents will be up soon, and once they’re occupied with the Circuit, we’ll be able to sneak back out.”

  “Do you know where Cascade is?” I ask. “Or Price?”

  Heath shakes his head. “I can chat them later, when they’ll be up and it won’t be suspicious. What’s your name?”

  “Saige,” I say. “I think Cascade knows something about my family.”

  He appraises me, and I don’t know if he believes me or not. “I know where she lives. We’ll head over there in the morning.” He glances out the window. “See what we can find.” He focuses on me again. “Sorry, I’ve got to get back to my bedroom. A couple of hours, okay? Don’t come out until I come back, okay?”

  “Okay,” I say, and he turns to go. “Heath?” He stops and looks at me. “Thanks,” I say, hoping I’ll have more to be grateful to him for later.

  He half-smiles and leaves. I turn toward the window and cross my arms, trying to erase the he’s cute thought that’s entered my mind. It seems as though time rifts and futuristic guys dominate my every waking moment. I remember when I used to fantasize about Jordan Burns and if he’d ask me to go to the movies this summer.

  If I had a boyfriend, at least then I’d have something to obsess over that doesn’t involve science fiction or my sister. Before I can turn from the window, a purple light bulb enters Heath’s backyard. It sends out a pulse of energy that radiates in every direction. I jump to the side of the window so I can still see out but no one can see me.

  Seconds pass, and the orb simply hovers in the yard. Then a beacon of white light emanates out the top, shooting straight up into the sky, like a needle piercing the dawn.

  Within minutes, the yard swarms with men wearing black pants, shiny jackets, and metallic helmets. Some jump the fence in the back, some on the side. More position themselves under the oak tree. One settles nearly in front of me, partially blocking my view of the yard.

  Their mere presence scares me, and the fact that I can’t see their faces makes them more machine than human. I startle when I realize they could be robots. With the advanced technology of this time period, anything is possible.

  A man strides into view, heading straight for the oak tree near the house. He glances up and signals to one of his companions. A device is brought forward, and several items fall from the tree. More men step forward. Tree branches shake. Leaves flutter to the ground, completely calm amidst this completely not-calm scene.

  The leader calls something into the tree, and when nothing happens, he signals again. Four men leap into the tree, one scaling the trunk into the tree house, and three jumping higher than a normal man should be able to. They grasp limbs and pull their huge bodies into the foliage.

  In seconds, they return to the ground, wrestling two people with them. Watching through the glass, everything plays out in slow-motioned silence. My blood runs cold when I see who they’ve “rescued” from the tree.

  Price and Cascade.

  Price

  CASCADE AND I ARE SEPARATED IMMEDIATELY. No less than ten Hoods flank me on all sides. I’m escorted from Heath’s backyard to a giant Humvee, where six additional Hoods wait. They all carry electrorays, and the fact that I can’t see their eyes unsettles me further.

  My heart is pounding a mile a minute, and I keep waiting for Dad to show up. Someone shoves me into the vehicle and seven guards pile in around me. No one speaks on the way downtown. I don’t have to ask to know where they’re taking me: the Time Bureau.

  I wonder if Dad will be waiting there, or if he’s at home comforting Mom. I attempt to chat her and find that I’ve been disconnected from the Circuit.

  The entire block surrounding the Time Bureau is bathed in purple light. Orbs hover every ten feet, blasting the sidewalk with ultra-white light. My Humvee stops right in front of the Time Bureau, and the Hoods pile out. The driver barks at me to “Stay,” before he exits and locks the auto.

  I can only watch as two Hoods escort a cuffed Cascade into the Bureau. She holds her head high, that angry muscle in her jaw twitching as she disappears from view. Minutes pass and another Humvee arrives before the locks click and my door opens.

  “Your turn,” a Hood growls. I scoot over and fingers clamp on both my biceps as my feet meet asphalt. I mimic Cascade and keep my chin up as I walk. Inside the Bureau, I’m shoved toward a very solid wall. A Hood steps in front of me and swipes his fingers in a complicated pattern over the wall.
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  It slithers up, revealing a set of stairs I’ve never seen before. I don’t want to go down those steps, but the multiple Hoods surrounding me don’t care what I want.

  Down and down we go, the air becoming colder and colder. The only sound is heavy footfalls and my own breathing; the Hoods must have oxygen systems inside their helmets.

  We reach a steel door labeled Subterranean—where Heath and I found Cooper. Inside, a long hallway stretches as far as I can see. I keep moving until the Hood holding my left arm yanks me toward a door labeled D.

  I only have one leg through the doorway when someone grabs me, pulls me all the way into Subterranean D, and shoves me against the wall. The door slithers almost all the way closed as I yell, but there’s a forearm pressing hella hard against my windpipe and all that comes out is a strangled gurgle.

  “Listen here, boy.” The man’s voice sounds fabricated through his helmet. “You’re going to forget everything about all time rifts.”

  The voice swims in my head, fracturing into two distinct sounds. High and low. Close and far. My hands claw at the arm cutting off my oxygen. The guy slaps them away and then punches me in the stomach.

  My body folds in on itself, not caring that I’m being held up by my throat. I suck desperately at the air as the pressure eases on my windpipe. I’ve only taken one breath when my head gets yanked back, forcing my spine to straighten as well. Weight settles on my throat again.

  “You know nothing,” he says. “Are we clear?”

  I choke out a yes that sounds two heartbeats from death. There’s not enough air. Too much darkness. Fear escalates through my body when a slice of light from the hallway catches the silver of a knife.

  “I’d hate to use this when that pretty girl of yours is sleeping.” The threat sends chills down my arms and sets me to shaking my head. “We’ve got her now, you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I sputter.