by William Oday
Someone banged on the door.
Rome jumped up and disappeared into Flo’s bedroom. He returned with the black nine millimeter Beretta that Bob had stolen less than two days ago. Rome flashed him an angry look before moving to the door.
More banging from whoever was outside.
Rome stood next to the door with the pistol at the ready.
“Rome! You in there? It’s me, Chief Stuckey.”
9
The banging continued as Rome remained frozen. The kid must not have been certain whether or not he recognized the voice.
Bob waved at the door. “It’s him. Open it.”
Rome whisper-shouted back, “Shut up, old man!”
Through the door, Stuckey continued. “It is me, Rome. Please open the door. I’ve got news about your mother.”
Rome tucked the pistol into his waistband and hurriedly unlocked and opened the door.
It swung open and the enormous form of Chief Stuckey filled the frame. “Mind if I come in?”
Rome stepped to the side and muttered something.
Bob considered the two men standing next to each other. They said everything was bigger in Texas. Well, Alaska made Texas look small.
Stuckey entered, taking in the dim interior with a sweep of his eyes. He turned back to face Rome, and his eyes dropped. He shook his head while reaching for Rome’s pistol. “Don’t ever tuck a gun there. For the love of the girl that may someday be your wife. I’ve seen idiots shoot their balls off doing that.”
“Oh, okay,” Rome said with a horrified look on his face. The horror passed and the concern returned. “Where’s my mom? She’s been gone all day. She went to see you this afternoon and hasn’t been back since. That was five or six hours ago!”
Stuckey placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know, son. I have terrible…” He swallowed hard as his mouth clamped shut. “Terrible news. Your mother is no longer with us.”
Rome flung the hand off his shoulder. “What do you mean ‘No longer with us?’ Where did she go?”
Stuckey’s eyes fell to the floor. “She’s dead. I tried to save her, but she’d lost too much blood.”
Rome’s face lost all color but one.
The one that remained when all meaning leeched out of life.
The pale oval floating in the dim light looked like a ghost. An empty, bloodless thing. A hole tore the oval open near the bottom third. “How? She was just here a few hours ago. How could she be dead?”
Stuckey shook his head as he watched the tornado of emotions taking over the boy. “Someone bombed the police station. Two bombs. One of them went off when your mother and I were nearby.”
Bob remembered they’d heard something that afternoon. They’d wondered at first but then written it off as a jalopy back-firing.
Rome slumped and Stuckey guided him into a chair at the kitchen table. “A bomb? My mother? What?” He stared at his hands like they weren’t his own.
Stuckey pulled a chair out and sat down beside him. He glanced at Bob an instant and then back to Rome. “I got her to the hospital as fast as I could. But it was too much for her. She passed a short time later.”
Silence smothered the room.
The type of silence that scratched you raw like sheet of sandpaper.
Huge tears spilled down the boy’s cheeks.
Bob stood and shuffled over to him. “I’m so sorry.”
Stuckey nodded. “I am too. She was a wonderful person and brought so much to this community.”
Rome shook his head as the tears splashed onto the table top. “She can’t be dead. She can’t be. I just saw her.”
Stuckey reached across the table and squeezed his shoulder. “I know there’s nothing I can say or do that will help, but if you need anything, let me know.”
Wracking sobs jerked Rome’s body in sudden, violent spasms. “Need anything? I need my mother!”
Snot dangled from his nose as he continued shaking his head, refusing to accept the new and terrible future.
“I’m so sorry, Rome,” Bob said in a soft voice.
And to his relief, he truly was.
His chest felt like someone had dropkicked his heart. Flo was the kind of good Samaritan that rarely existed anymore. She’d saved his sorry life, even after he’d stolen from her and ran away like the selfish coward he was.
Rome swiped at his eyes and face. “Where is her body? I want to see it.”
Stuckey nodded understanding. “It’s at the hospital.”
Rome bolted up and grabbed his pistol from where the chief had set it on the table. “I’m going to see her.” He turned toward the door but Stuckey held out a hand.
“Whoa. Hold up a second. Let’s leave the weapon here. I don’t need you walking around with a loaded pistol feeling the way you’re feeling.”
Fury flashed through Rome’s eyes as he took a step back to keep Stuckey from grabbing the gun.
Stuckey raised both hands. “Easy! I’ve got an old truck that has been requisitioned for police service. I can drive you there. Let’s leave the pistol here.”
Rome’s eyes darted to Bob. “Not a chance. It goes with me.”
Stuckey glanced over to Bob with a question in his eyes.
A question Bob had no desire to answer.
That was who he used to be.
He was different now.
Not like a new body and brain.
Well, maybe like a worse body and a better brain.
Or something.
Bob jumped in with a solution before things went wrong. “Chief, how about you hold on to the gun while you’re taking Rome. Then, you can give it back to him whenever you drop him off.”
Stuckey nodded. “Good idea.” He carefully watched Rome’s movement, especially the hand holding the gun. “That work for you, Rome? It’ll be with us the whole time.”
Rome stared with suspicion. “So you won’t take it for good?”
Stuckey shook his head. “Not a chance. I just want to hang on to it while we visit the hospital.”
The tension in Rome’s body eased a little. His shoulders slumped and the hand holding the gun dropped a couple of inches. “Fine.” He held the gun out with the muzzle pointed at the floor.”
“Thank you, son. I appreciate what you’re going through.”
A spasm of hate flashed through Rome’s face. “How could you possibly understand what I’m feeling?”
The chief coughed into his hand and then wiped it on his pants. “Because those bombs took out the entire Kodiak police force. People I’ve known, worked with, and been friends with for over thirty years.”
He wrapped an arm over Rome’s shoulder. “We’re all hurting, son.”
“Yeah.”
“You ready to go right now?”
Rome grabbed an insulated jacket draped over a nearby chair. “Yeah. I’m ready.” He turned to Bob before heading to the door. “Don’t touch anything. I swear to God I won’t be as forgiving as my mother.”
Stuckey sent another confused look Bob’s way.
Bob put his right hand over his heart. “I promise you I will be here. And I won’t touch a thing.”
Rome threw open the door and stomped through.
And in fewer minutes than was fair for a kid so young, he would see his dead mother.
He would know she was gone forever.
A dull ache clenched at Bob’s chest. He squeezed a hand over it.
Just like his own father had clutched at his chest when his heart had failed and he’d collapsed and died at the feet of the boy Bob used to be.
10
DR. ZHANG YONG laid in his bunk with the covers pulled over his head. The soft hum of the air exchanger masked the silent heaving of his chest. Wet tears streamed down his temples and soaked into the thin pillow. Another sob and his torso clenched tight.
Despite his anguish, he refused to let so much as a murmur escape. Nothing that might alert anyone passing in the halls outside to the depths of his condition.
<
br /> He winced as the bottom sheet caught on the stitches at his hairline and pulled at the wound. It was mild pain resulting from the fall he’d taken in the collider ring before stepping through a time gate. A wound that was two days old for him, but that had happened over ten years ago in this world. It hurt, but it was nothing approaching the anguish in his soul.
Hari Ganesh was gone.
Only a day had passed since his death. And yet thousands of years had also passed.
They said time healed all wounds.
But what if time wasn’t bound in one direction?
What if old wounds could be revisited?
What if a second chance made it possible to avoid the wound in the first place?
That’s what Hari had done. And yet his effort had created a new wound. Substituted one for another.
It was like the scales of life required balance. Hari had stolen the weight of Zhang’s death and then repaid it with his own.
One lived.
One died.
The grief weighing on Zhang’s heart would’ve dragged him down into a morose, insufferable abyss had it not been for Hari’s last words.
The world needs you! Now more than ever!
Upon arriving in the present day, he’d discovered the world did indeed have great needs. But he was no savior. No messiah. He had no answers for the ruin that humanity had brought upon itself.
Who was he kidding?
Save the world?
He didn’t even know how to lead the project. He was now the de facto director of Project Hermes and he had no clear idea of what to do next.
Visionary plans and leadership had always been Hari’s role. He’d been in charge since the project began. And Zhang had always been a capable and trusted assistant. Always the follower. He’d always given his best as much out of scientific curiosity as out of a personal obligation to Hari for all that the older man had done for him. Hari’s death didn’t negate that debt.
That alone kept him from crawling into a dark hole somewhere and waiting for his flesh to wither into dust.
He hadn’t slept last night after returning to the facility. He didn’t expect to sleep tonight either. His thoughts circled again and again around the final minutes of Hari’s life.
He’d been a friend, a colleague, a mentor, a father in many ways. And in the end, he’d even been his personal savior.
A short-faced bear had been seconds away from attacking Zhang and Hari had offered himself as a sacrifice.
And a sacrifice he’d become.
The sickening crunch of cracking bones haunted his waking dreams.
The comms panel in his room beeped. For such an advanced facility, the hardwired communications network was exceedingly rudimentary. No display. No way to tell who was calling.
He considered not responding. Hiding in the dark in his room like a child. A vision of Hari’s face, frowning with stern disapproval appeared in his mind.
Zhang wiped his eyes with the blanket and sat up. His movement caused a dim light in the ceiling to turn on. He coughed several times to clear his throat of mucus and hoped that when he did speak, his voice wouldn’t crack or otherwise give away his emotional state. He reached over to the panel and tapped the answer button.
“This is Doctor Zhang.”
“Sorry to disturb you, doctor. This is Captain Whitaker.”
“What can I do for you, Captain?”
“Sir, I’ve got the team assembled and provisioned. We’ll be ready to move out at first light. Have you had time to consider what we discussed?”
Zhang’s mind was so numbed with grief, it took him a second to remember.
Oh, yes. Captain Whitaker had suggested they send out teams to get readings on several of the nearest time gates. A preliminary data-gathering mission. Zhang had agreed on the spot.
It was what Whitaker had suggested next that tripped him up.
That he take a team through the nearest time gate to investigate what was on the other side.
Zhang had immediately vetoed the idea, and he wasn’t about to change his mind now.
“Captain, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I understand your reservations. I do. But we’ve got numerous gates to other times, and possibly other worlds as far as we know, in our own backyard. The closest is half a click from our main entrance. That’s a serious security risk. Who knows what might come through any minute.”
Zhang knew what might come through. A giant bear that could remove a man’s head with a single bite.
“Doctor, I’m talking about a simple reconnaissance mission. Get in, take a look around, and get out.”
“What about what happened to Hari? Do you want more people to die?”
His voice hardened. “Of course not. And Dr. Ganesh would be alive today if he’d waited for his security detail.”
A moment of tense silence passed.
“I’m sorry. I know how much he meant to you.”
“Then you’ll understand why I’m reluctant—”
“Sir, we’re professionals with the training and equipment to carry out the mission. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was important.”
This was why Zhang wasn’t a leader. He didn’t want to make the tough calls, one way or the other. He didn’t know what was best.
“Fine. Do it.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you get to sleep now. Whitaker out.”
Get to sleep?
He was about to lay back down when comms beeped again.
What did Whitaker want this time? To drive a column of tanks through the gate?
Zhang punched the answer button. “What now, Captain?”
“Sorry?”
A different voice. A woman’s.
“Who is this?”
“It’s Collins in Operations. I know it’s late, but I have something I need you to see.”
Zhang pinched his eyes shut. All he wanted to do was disappear. And that was the one thing he couldn’t do.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
He clicked the line off before a reply came through.
A few more than a few minutes later, he arrived in Operations and saw that only a skeleton crew was on duty at this late hour.
Collins must have heard the door because she looked back and waved him over.
Zhang stopped at her terminal, looking over her shoulder at the monitor.
“The topside antennae arrays on the island have come in with the latest weather forecast.” She traced a finger along a curved line overlaying a map of Alaska and the ocean to the west. “See this?”
“Yes, of course.” Zhang failed at trying to hide the irritable bite in his voice.
“This is our best projection of a weather front coming in from the southwest.” She slid her finger over a timeline, swiping backwards through the last few days. “It’s coming directly from Tokyo and it’ll be here in approximately two and a half days.”
“What do you mean approximately?”
“Well, we’re only getting data from the hardened arrays on the island. We have no satellite data or supplementary data from the region of Japan. We’re combining our data with historical weather patterns for this time of year to run a forecast simulation. This is the result.”
“So, it’s a guess?”
“It’s a good guess. It could arrive a little early or a little later than our projection. But there is a high probability that it will arrive.”
Zhang let out a slow breath.
Tokyo was a pile of carbonized ash. They’d picked up that much from various shortwave transmissions sent out by independent HAM operators. And assuming the reports were true, a storm system passing over it would suck up huge amounts of radioactive particles.
And in two and a half days, it was going to unleash those same particles on the town of Kodiak.
Not enough time had passed to render it even remotely safe.
Anyone exposed to the fallout would be in trouble. Depending on how m
uch and how concentrated it turned out to be, they could be looking at a mass die off starting within days.
There were six thousand people in that town.
Six thousand lives that were two and a half days away from a nightmare worse than the one they’d just survived.
11
MARCO MORALES sat up in the hospital bed and stared out the window at the dim, cold sunrise. The sun returning for another day was usually something to celebrate. It had been a constant and recurring relief for mankind for hundreds of thousands of years.
But today, it brought only misery.
Emily was gone.
Out on the ocean somewhere.
Dead or alive.
He would never know.
A squeak from beneath the bed sheet drew his attention.
He lifted the paper-like sheet and saw Oscar curled into a ball. His tiny paws twitched as he probably dreamed of stealing more of Marco’s bait.
How many grasshoppers had the little stinker stolen? Enough to cost Marco a few meals. That was for sure. And the way the little scamp popped them into his mouth and crunched down like potato chips. Marco had been furious the first few times. All before they’d decided to become partners.
It felt like he’d met the cute, little grouch a lifetime ago.
Before the world ended.
During a reality TV show game where the winner went home with a million dollars.
And he’d needed that money as much or more than any of the others.
But now, none of that mattered.
He’d never see home again. Never see the green rolling hills west of Baker, Montana that had been his family’s land for generations.
As much as that hurt, and it twisted in his gut, losing Emily hurt more.
Marco eased his hand down and gently petted the sleeping weasel. At least this guy hadn’t abandoned him.
Marco’s lips curled into a snarl as he caught himself using that word.
Abandoned.
A lingering coal of resentment warmed his belly.
His ex, Justine, had dumped him less than two months ago, but that was definitely so long ago that it no longer mattered. His heart ached for Emily.
