by Lee Strauss
I’d nicked the animal, but not enough to deter it. Hunger and rabid craziness overruled any natural fear of man it might’ve had. It crouched back on its hind legs and leaped toward me.
I aimed and shot, and this time I didn’t miss. The body of the beast fell in a heap half way down the steps and tumbled to the bottom. I pushed back on my butt, not wanting to touch the thing. Unfortunately, it lay directly in our escape path. I had to touch it.
I tentatively reached for one of its back legs. In my mind, I saw it spring back to life and clutch my throat, its whole playing-dead thing a ruse to trap me. Its fur was coarse and dry, the skin beneath it warm. It didn’t attack. I dragged the body to the back of the bunker.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, returning to Teagan. I helped her onto her good foot and slipped my arm around her back. “Lean on me.” She hopped one step at a time, and I tried to bear as much weight as possible. We made it to the front of the house where I took out the whistle that Sage had given me. I blew on it until she appeared. Even through her mask I could see the look of relief on her face. She rushed to Teagan, leaned away from her injured arm and gave her a hug, which also, because Teagan was leaning on me, meant Sage was pressing up against me too.
I didn’t mind at all.
“You scared me,” Sage said.
“Thanks for coming back for me.”
“Of course, Lake. I know you’d do the same for me.”
“Yes, I would.”
Between the two of us, Sage and I got Teagan back to the lab where we all endured decon showers—girls first, then me. Blaine rigged up a cast for Teagan’s broken arm and produced a crutch. Then it was time for dinner.
The good thing about living in a science lab is that if you don’t have the drugs you need, you can usually make them. Teagan was particularly grateful for my talents when I produced fairly strong painkilling drugs. I was sure Blaine did his best to set her ulna but he wasn’t a doctor. I feared Teagan may have to live the rest of her life with a crooked arm, but at least she was alive.
It gave me hope that the other version of her might have a chance as well, that maybe Teagan’s death wasn’t inevitable.
“Marlow was ammmazzing!” Teagan was high.
We gathered for a dinner of mac and cheese, lounging on the couches and chairs in the staff room instead of around a lab table, since Teagan couldn’t sit up by herself yet. Her foot was propped up on an ottoman.
“That coyote was going to kill us and Marlow just shot it.” She made me out to be some kind of Indiana Jones. “He broke a broomstick and tied it to my arm.”
My face flushed with embarrassment. Sage’s lips tugged up with amusement. “How’s it feel to be a hero?”
“All in a day’s work,” I said lightly. “Nice work on the cast, Blaine.” I hoped to remove the attention off me.
“We should call you Dr. Tucker,” Jake said. Then with a mocking glance my way, “Or should I say, Dr. Blaine.”
“You’re welcome to step in,” Blaine said. “With no actual doctor on the premises, you can be my guest.”
Nora poked a finger in the air. “He’s just giving you a hard time, Tucker.”
“My dad’s a doctor,” Zed said. He placed an empty bowl on a small table beside him. “He wanted me to follow in his footsteps.”
“Why didn’t you?” I asked. I knew Zed, and he was smart enough.
He rubbed his beard. “I hadn’t decided not to. I might’ve yet, if this hadn’t happened.”
“My dad’s an accountant in New York,” Jake said. “Or was.”
The room grew quiet. It was easy to forget that whole cities and millions of people had disappeared from the face of the earth.
“My dad died when I was three,” Blaine said. “I’m glad he didn’t live to see this.”
“Do you remember him?” Sage asked.
“Not a lot. I have this memory of him at a cabin in the woods. I think my parents went there to escape the city on weekends. We’d play this chase and tickle game. He’d sing a nursery rhyme.” He quoted the next part with a singsong voice. “Run, run, run, as fast as you can. You can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man.”
I dropped my fork. The staffroom elongated like a long dark tunnel. My mind spun. The gingerbread man. Could it be? Could Blaine Tucker be the assailant in the other worlds?
I stared hard at the Blaine Tucker who sat languidly on a couch across from me.
“Dude,” he finally said. “Are you all right?” He sat up under my piercing gaze and choked out a chuckle. “Do I need to get the medical kit?”
I averted my gaze and covered my eyes. This line of thought was crazy. “No, sorry. Just zoned out there for a moment. Rough day.”
“Yeah, well, time to kill the lights soon.” Blaine yawned. “I’m hitting the hay.
56

Marlow
I didn’t sleep much that night. My thoughts went to the missing Teagan in the other world, captive to some monster and wondering if it were really possible that the monster was Blaine Tucker. Though Zed, Teagan, Jake and Nora seemed much the same in this world as they were in the other worlds I knew them in, Sage was different. This Sage was tougher, harder. But they were both fighters.
The Blaine Tucker from my world, the one I sat beside in physics on occasion, was cockier and sleazier than this one. He was a player. Even though he had a girlfriend, Gina, rumor had it he didn’t mind fooling around on the side.
This Blaine seemed more levelheaded. I hadn’t seen him hit on any of the girls once. Maybe the seriousness of their day-to-day reality, the looming presence of real-time danger, gave him focus.
Maybe it was because his dad had died when he was three.
I didn’t know. I just knew that no matter what world I was in, I didn’t trust Blaine Tucker. If I’d learned anything since I began jumping it was this: nothing was as it seemed.
The consensus the next day, since everyone had been exposed to higher levels of radiation than was recommended the day previous, was that it was time to take a day off from exploring and exploiting. Zed hung out with the ham radio in case there was any new news: continued reports of rampant looting in all major cities, riots in the Midwest, and all the problems and issues that came with a mass population relocation. Refugee-style camps dotted the Mississippi River.
Nothing about rescue teams sousing out the cities that had been attacked. The assumption was that everyone in them was dead, and if they weren’t dead, they would be before help could arrive. The resources were diverted to pockets where survival was most likely.
Which meant this little group was on its own.
“Maybe we should head south like Henry did,” Jake said. “We could round up enough bicycles.”
Blaine shrugged. “It sounds worse out there than it does here. At least we have shelter and food enough for the winter.”
“I agree with Tucker,” Sage said. “They can’t handle the numbers they have. Best to wait until the weather warms up. By then things will have settled down.”
“Are you sure we have enough fuel for the winter months?” Jake asked.
Blaine nodded. “Garvin was ready for a hit. We’re good until March at least.”
“Can you get me out?” I asked. “I need to get back to where I was before I jumped here.”
“I don’t know,” Blaine said with a shrug. “We can try.”
“Now?”
Blaine eyed me with suspicion. “What’s the rush?”
“One less mouth to feed?”
“I don’t know. It takes a lot of energy. I don’t think we can spare it.”
“You spared it to get me here.”
“That was an accident.”
“You were willing to try earlier,” I said. “What’s changed?”
Blaine shrugged. Maybe he’d been in a more generous mood earlier.
Teagan was in the room, and even though she seemed kind of out of it, I still didn’t want to talk about her de
ath and abduction in the other realms in front of her. I doubted it would be enough to change Blaine’s mind anyway. He didn’t seem all that attached to the people here, except for the fact that they were willing to do the raids and risk radiation exposure. He hadn’t gone outside once since I’d been here, and no mention had ever been made to suggest that he’d gone out before.
I didn’t think he would care about a Teagan Lake in another world.
Blaine left the room, and I felt a strange sense of relief. Sage took a seat beside me. She shifted to face me, pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What?” I asked.
“You’re really uptight. More than usual, I mean.”
“I need to get back. It’s urgent.”
She tilted her head. “Why? What’s going on?”
I lowered my voice and leaned in. Sage met me halfway, her ear turned to my face. “Remember how I told you that Teagan was killed in my world and abducted in the next?”
She nodded. “Uh, huh.”
“I think Tucker might be the assailant.”
Sage pulled back and shot me a look that said I was crazy. “Why would you think that?”
I hushed her and beckoned her with my fingers to come close again. “His story about the gingerbread man. Gingerbreadman is the assailant’s online handle. You, the other you, hacked his computer but you couldn’t track him. He tracked you though. You are also in danger.”
“That could just be a coincidence.”
“Maybe. But I know the Blaine Tucker from my world. There’s something off about him.”
Sage sagged back and closed her eyes. “I still have a hard time accepting the whole concept of alternate universes. If you weren’t right here where I can touch you, I’d say it’s all nuts.”
She laid a hand on my knee. Hot nerves shot up my leg. Her hand was rough, yet dainty. I wanted to hold it. I didn’t want her to move it.
She cleared her throat and pulled her hand away. “I don’t know how to help you. It’s not like I know how to operate the experiment.”
“I know, but you can help me convince Tucker he needs to try.”
57

Marlow
There weren’t a lot of places to be alone—not if you also wanted to be warm. With six of us in one functioning lab, the staff room and the sleeping lab, we were bound to be in any room with someone. Zed kept Teagan company in the staff room while Jake and Nora were “napping”—read, making out—in the bedroom. Blaine had set up his “personal” lab space in the back corner of the lab next to the small adjoining room where he and the other Marlow Henry conducted their experiments. At this moment he sat on a stool at the table with his nose in an old textbook.
Sage and I approached him. “Tucker,” she said. “We need to talk.”
Blaine groaned. “Let me guess, little Marlow Henry is homesick.”
We pulled up stools across from him. I clasped my hands and rested them on the cool surface of the table.
“This is serious,” Sage said.
“We tried earlier and it didn’t work,” Blaine said stubbornly. “I don’t see the point.”
“The point is you’re messing with alternate worlds. You need to take some responsibility.”
“Responsibility for what?”
“What goes on there. And right now, Teagan is in trouble.”
“I gather you’re not talking about her twisted ankle?”
“No. Tell him, Marlow.”
“In my world, Teagan Lake is the victim of a serial rapist and is killed.” I took some satisfaction that Blaine blanched at that. “In the next world, the one I was at before I jumped here, she’s abducted. Sage and I,” I glanced at Sage. “Another Sage and I believe she’s still alive.”
Blaine raised a brow. “Why?”
“For some reason, in that realm, the assailant didn’t follow his MO. Normally, he attacks and leaves the victim behind. In this case, no body has been discovered. Plus, he left a threatening note before Teagan disappeared. And then, afterwards, another taunting message.”
“What’s his email address? Maybe I can track him from here?”
“It was a chatroom handle.” I paused and watched his expression. “It’s @gingerbreadman.”
His eyes flickered but not in a way that indicated guilt or a guilty conscience. “Okay, that’s weird. I don’t know if I can track it, but I’ll try.”
“I doubt it. He’s a high-level hacker.”
“It sucks that other Teagan Lakes aren’t faring well in their worlds,” Blaine said, “but I don’t see what I can do about it, or why, really, I should intervene.”
“Because it’s you,” I said.
His eyes flickered wildly this time. He shook his head sharply. “It’s me? What?”
“You are the assailant. In those worlds, you’re messed up, man.”
Blaine snapped his textbook shut. “If this is a joke, you’re not funny. Now if you don’t mind…” He nodded to the door as if that would make me excuse myself and leave.
“It’s you, Blaine. And now you have a chance to make things right. Help me stop you before you hurt anyone else.”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re accusing me of being a rapist and a murderer!”
“Not this you,” I said as kindly as I could. “Another you.”
“But why would I?” He looked truly stricken and for the first time, I felt sorry for him.
“I don’t know.”
He shifted off his stool and grabbed his head. “This is too much.”
“Tucker,” I said. “You mentioned a cabin yesterday. Where is it located?”
He cut a sharp look my way. “Why?”
“Because, maybe that’s where you’ve taken her. If you send me back, I can check.”
“It can’t be me. You have to be mistaken.”
“Maybe I am. There’s only one way for me to find out. Either way, you’ll be helping Teagan. Maybe you’ll save her life.”
I hoped that he’d take that rope. A hero in this world, even if he’s a villain in another.
His eyes darted to Sage as if he were pleading with her. Take my side. Instead she said, “You have to try. Besides, Marlow doesn’t belong here. And Henry might come back. We can’t risk having them both present at the same time.”
Tucker let out a heavy breath and then with shoulders back, nodded toward the storage room. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Blaine motioned for me to step on the circular metal pad. I was tempted to say, “Beam me up,” but thought that might undermine the seriousness of the situation.
“I didn’t have to stand in a special chamber to get here,” I said as I took position. “Can’t you just summon up a freaky storm?”
“In essence, that’s what I’m going to do. Except it’s indoors in a controlled environment. Or as controlled as a quantum tornado can be.”
“Do you want to say good-bye first?” Sage asked.
I’d been here only a day and a half. I hardly needed to make a scene surrounding my departure. Besides, this might not work, and then it would be all “forget about the good-byes, I’m still here.”
“You say it for me,” I said.
Sage nodded like she understood. “I hope it works. I hope you save her.”
The friendship between Sage and Teagan transcended worlds. It warmed me and made me believe in humanity. It made my quest all the more urgent.
Blaine flicked switches and turned knobs. He put on a pair of tinted glasses and instructed Sage to wait outside the room. “You ready?” he said to me. I nodded. He pulled on a lever and my eyes blurred. I felt like I’d been stung by a dozen stingrays. My body trembled. Every bone shuddered.
Then it stopped.
I opened my eyes. It was dark. The room smelled dusty and stale, like the door hadn’t been open in weeks. It worked! I was in a storage room that functioned as a storage room. I worried that I might be locked in. A line of light le
aked in under the door. My eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, and I fumbled my way around bookracks and shelving. I held my breath as I tried the knob. It clicked open.
I was in the science lab. Sage and Blaine were gone. Professor Garvin sat at the desk at the back of the room, squinting in front of a computer screen. I still couldn’t tell if I was in my own realm, the green one, or yet another new one. I moved as quietly as I could toward the door but my sneakers squeaked on the linoleum. Professor Garvin’s head popped up.
“Mr. Henry?”
“Oh, hi, Professor Garvin. I thought I forgot my book bag here, but I guess I must’ve left it in my calculus class.”
He frowned at me like he suspected I was up to something but couldn’t think of what. I skipped out of the lab as fast as I could before he could question me further, and up the stairs to the outdoors. I had to see what color it was. Where was I?
I exhaled. Green. Now I just had to find Sage.
58

Marlow
I wasn’t sure where to find Sage so I figured I’d go to her dorm. If she wasn’t there, I’d wait for her. The walkway was covered in dry leaves and lined with wrought-iron lampposts. My mind did a double take at all the signs of life: undamaged brick buildings covered with autumn-colored vines; a couple walking hand in hand; a girl wearing a wool cap, her head bent as she thumbed a message on her phone: a gang of hockey jocks, punching each other in the shoulders and cracking crude jokes.
All of them dead in the smoky realm. All this beauty destroyed.
I cupped my mouth with my hands, in part to keep them warm with my breath and in part to keep from hyperventilating. I moved forward with my head down, my mind a swirl. I shoulder-butted a body trying to pass me.
“Pardon me,” I said. When I looked up, my breath caught in my throat. Blaine Tucker stared back at me. This version of him had pasty drawn skin with gray circles under his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping. He almost looked frail, but then I considered how hard it felt to ram into him. He was strong underneath his winter coat.
