by P. T. Hylton
He gently set the book down in the dirt.
“Wait,” Mason said. “You’re taking me with you, right? Like we talked about?”
Zed smiled at him. “As much as I appreciate your loyalty, the answer to that question is a resounding no.”
Mason bit his lip. “Can I have my compass?” His voice was shaking.
“Son, it was always my compass. You were just holding it for me.”
Zed winked at Frank, then stepped through the door in the tree.
As soon as he’d passed through the tree, the light blinked out.
“No,” Frank whispered.
“What’s happening?” Sophie asked. “What does this mean?”
“He’s gone,” Frank said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “He’s probably going after my family. My friends. He’ll kill them all.”
“Well then we find him. We use the book. Like you did before when you found Jake.”
“No. I had the compass. And even then Jake had to pull me through. He said he destroyed the doors.”
Mason picked up the book and flipped it open.
“There has to be a way!” Frank said. “Maybe we can learn to use the book. Study it.”
Sophie said, “I don’t know. Jake studied it for years. Like, a decade. But if we can figure out the book, there might be a way.”
The tree in front of them suddenly moved. It shifted horizontally to the other side of the trail. Then it moved back again.
“Not bad!” Mason said. He dragged his finger across the page and the tree shot fifty yards away. He ran his finger the other way, and the tree raced back, stopping inches away from Frank’s nose.
“Why didn’t you tell us you knew how to use the book?” Frank asked.
“I didn’t know I did,” Mason said. “I haven’t seen it since I was a kid. It was locked in that box, remember? But it all looks pretty straight forward. The instructions are written right here.”
“You can read it?” Frank asked.
“Yeah.” He chuckled wearily. “Funny. I haven’t read a lick in more than fifty years. I wasn’t much good at it then, either. But this is all crystal clear.” He shrugged. “It just seems to make sense. This book is of this place, like me. And Zed thought I was useless.”
Frank put his hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Mason, you have to take us through the doorway. We have to follow him to Rook Mountain.”
Mason frowned, flipping through the pages. “The tree he went through doesn’t go to Rook Mountain.”
“Where’s it go?” Frank asked.
Mason scanned the page. “King’s Crossing, Wisconsin. He did something to all these trees, though. The doorways don’t open like the book says they should.”
“Maybe you’re not using it right,” Frank said. “It might take some time to figure it out.”
Sophie crouched down and fiddled with something on the ground. Suddenly a tree appeared next to her. And the white light was still pouring out of it.
She held up the Cassandra lock and smiled. “I figured we should hide one of the trees from Zed.”
Now Frank was smiling. It was the tree he had seen next to her before. The one with the twisted root structure. “You used the lock.”
Sophie nodded. “I put the lock on one of its roots. This is the Rook Mountain tree.”
Frank glanced at Mason. Mason flipped a page of the book and nodded. “She’s right.” A smile crept onto his face. “And the door seems to be working. I’ve never done this before. Give me a second.”
His finger twisted on the page. Sweat beaded his weathered brow. After a few moments, he looked up at them and said, “It’s ready for us.”
Frank grinned at Sophie and Mason. “Ready to go home?”
Sophie smiled back at him. “Hell yes.”
Mason frowned. “I was born here. I’ve never been anywhere else. I’m—”
Frank cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. “Come home.”
Mason nodded.
Frank, Sophie, and Mason stepped into the light and went home to Rook Mountain.
EPILOGUE
Rook Mountain—May 29, 2015
Mason stood at the window, peeking through the curtain.
“Geez, man, she’ll get here when she gets here,” Frank said.
Mason nodded. “I know. I’m just checking.”
Frank couldn’t blame Mason for his anxiousness. He’d had to adjust a lot of new things over the month since they’d returned to Rook Mountain. Running water. Cars. Toothbrushes. And people. Mason got pretty jumpy around them, and in the non-Sanctuary world, they were just about everywhere. Frank couldn’t blame Mason for being excited about seeing someone slightly more familiar.
But at least he got to go out and experience things, unlike Frank who’d been stuck in Sean's house for the last month, afraid he’d bump into Christine, Trevor, or Will. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see them. He did. Badly. But there was no way he was bringing them back into this. And if they knew he was back, they would insist on trying to help. Frank couldn’t allow that.
Frank had wandered out into town a few times, using the Cassandra lock to render himself invisible, but that had only made him feel more alone. The streets of Rook Mountain felt haunted; he saw reminders of Zed and the Regulations everywhere he went.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned. Sean stood behind him.
“You sure you won’t reconsider my offer?” Sean asked. “I do come in handy every once in a while.”
“That’s what I hear,” Frank said with a smile. “Still waiting to see proof of that myself.”
Sean pointed at the scars crisscrossing his neck. “There’s your proof. For real, though. It’s not too late. I can have a bag packed and be ready in ten minutes.”
Frank shook his head. “I need you here. This place is important to Zed. I know it. He’ll come back here, and I want you to be ready when that happens. Besides, you’ve got Wendy to think about.”
“True. No way would she stay behind.”
“You see? We just don’t have room in the car for all of you.”
The smile drifted away from Sean’s face. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve put in your time. Maybe it’s someone else’s turn to take a crack at Zed.”
Frank turned away. “No one else understands him like we do. And then there are the locks.”
Sean frowned. “You sound like Jake. He insisted we stand up to Zed.”
Mason turned away from the window. “And look how far that got him. He wanted to save people by bringing them to Sanctuary, and they all ended up dead.”
“Is that what you think?” Frank asked. He searched Mason’s face. The older man wasn’t speaking emotionally. He was just stating a fact he had learned long ago.
Mason turned back to the window. “Of course. Dad tried hard. And he had good intentions. It’s wasn’t his fault he failed.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Sean said. “If it wasn’t for your dad and his message, Frank wouldn’t have been let out of jail. Zed might still be ruling over Rook Mountain.”
“Exactly,” Frank said. “Look, he originally went through that mirror to find help for his family. Because of that, I got out of prison and was able to do my part. And when we sent Zed through the mirror, your dad was waiting there and he banished him.”
“Sure, for a little while,” Mason said.
“Long enough for his family here to be safe. And long enough to create a new family. Mason, your dad was all about keeping people he loved safe. He died doing that. So don’t think for a minute that he was a failure. He gave every person in Sanctuary a new life, even if it didn’t last forever. He gave me one too.”
Mason turned just enough for Frank to be able to see the hint of a smile on his face. “Yeah, I guess he did.”
Sean cocked his thumb toward the window. “Looks like your ride’s here.”
Sure enough, Frank saw a tan Honda Civic roll to a stop in front of the house.
Mason just grunted, clearly desperate to have the hug end as quickly as possible.
Sean hugged Frank. Then he handed Frank something.
“What’s this?” Frank asked.
“Pre-paid cell phone,” Sean said. “My number’s programmed in there. If you need help, I’m the first call you make. Deal?”
Frank smiled. “Deal. Thanks, man. For everything.” He slipped the phone into his pocket. “Same goes for you. Watch out for them. Christine and Trevor, I mean. If you need anything, or if they do, don’t hesitate. I’ll come back here on the run the minute you call.”
“Of course,” Sean said. “It seems like you are always leaving. Going off somewhere new and exciting.”
“Not forever,” Frank said. “I’m coming back here soon. For good. Just got to take care of this little Zed problem first.”
Sean smiled. “Oh, is that all?”
A few moments later, Frank and Mason threw their bags into the trunk of the Civic and climbed into the car. Mason got in the back seat slowly and carefully. He was still getting used to the idea of vehicular travel.
Sophie smiled at them. “Hello, my fellow idiots.”
“Right back attcha,” Frank said. “You get everything straightened out with your parents?”
Frank knew what she had told them about the time she was missing. She said she remembered being held at gunpoint by Rodgers and then she didn’t remember anything else until she reappeared in Rook Mountain. The story might have been easier to believe if the Rook Mountain tree hadn’t spit them out in April, 2015, a full six months after Sophie had disappeared. Still, she’d stuck to her story through all their confusion and questions, and she hoped they at least half-believed it. It was Rook Mountain after all. Weird was what this town did.
Sophie shrugged. “Near enough. I told them I got a job interview up north. They are all about job interviews so they liked that.”
“Let’s talk while we drive,” Mason said. “I want to get to the part where we kill Zed.”
Frank chuckled. True enough, he too wanted to kill Zed. He did feel it was his responsibility. He hadn’t lied to Sean about that. But there was another more selfish reason for going. Zed had gone to another one of the special towns. A place that was special, Frank had to assume, like Rook Mountain and Sugar Plains were special. And Zed had told him all special places had a book.
So maybe King’s Crossing, Wisconsin had a book. Maybe it was a book that would allow Frank to reach through time.
Maybe Jake didn’t have to end up dead on the forest floor.
Frank hadn’t spoken those words aloud to anyone; he kept that secret hope locked away in a special place in his mind.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He tossed it to Sophie. “Made you something.”
She scrunched up her face. “Seriously?”
“Just open it.”
She lifted the lid on the box and pulled out a silver necklace with a tiny lock hanging from the end of it.
“It’s a new design,” Frank said. “Put it on. It’ll hide you from the compass. So Zed won’t see us coming.”
Sophie put the chain around her neck. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Frank said. “I made one for Mason and one for me, too. More manly versions, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Sophie,” Frank said, looking into her eyes. “I really appreciate you volunteering to do this with us.”
“I’m young and single. The ideal time in life to fight bad guys.” Sophie shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. “So…King’s Crossing, Wisconsin. How do we know Zed didn’t already take it out of time?”
“For one thing, it’s still on the map,” Frank said. “Besides, Zed doesn’t have the pocket watch anymore. He has the compass. Whatever he does next, it’s gonna be something different.”
She fingered the lock dangling from her neck. “At least he won’t see us coming.”
Frank smiled. “No he won’t.”
Sophie, Frank, and Mason left Rook Mountain and headed north.
The Broken Clock
Book Three of the Deadlock Trilogy
P.T. Hylton
PROLOGUE
Boulder Creek, CO
January 2022
Christine Osmond eased her truck into the driveway, put it in park, and gripped the wheel. There was a stranger sitting on her porch.
She couldn’t make out all the details from here, but she could see enough. Stark white hair. A rumpled jacket that was at least a size too large. It was enough to let her know she didn’t recognize the man. Yet there he was, sitting on her porch, looking as comfortable as if he’d been here a thousand times.
She hesitated, then got out of the truck and took a few steps toward the house.
“Help you?” she called. She heard the Tennessee in her voice. She never tried to hide it—she was proud of who she was and where she’d come from—but over the past few years she’d noticed it fading ever-so-slightly. God help her, she was starting to sound like a northerner.
The man gave her a weak smile and she saw the deep lines on his face. The guy had to be sixty years old if he was a day. And a hard sixty. Those eyes of his had seen some things. He was thin and sinewy, but he looked strong. She could tell even through his too-large jacket. The way the cords stood out on his neck.
He rose and nodded to her. “Doctor Osmond, I have something for you.”
“That so?” she asked.
He nodded and held out a plain white envelope.
She took another step toward the porch. “You selling something?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’m just here to give you the letter. And to answer your questions, if you have ’em.”
She squinted at him. “I don’t foresee myself having any questions a stranger could answer. Maybe if you were a little more forward as to the reason for your call…” She let her voice trail off, hoping he’d take it from there.
He stretched out his arm, offering the envelope. “I’d rather you read the letter. It’ll make more sense after.”
She set her jaw. “No. Tell me why you’re here first.” Something about the sight of this man made her very afraid.
He sighed. “Maybe you know why I’m here. I think you knew I was coming. Me or someone like me. You keep looking over your shoulder, peeking out your window to see if an unfamiliar car is pulling into your driveway. You look at the sky in the nighttime half expecting to see streaks of white. Because you know it’s not over. And you’re right.”
She said nothing. Her hands were shaking now. The mountain air suddenly felt chilly against the skin of her bare arms.
“Who are you?” she asked. As soon as the words left her mouth she wished they hadn’t. She didn’t want to hear the answer to her question. She suddenly realized what it was about this man that made her uneasy. It was there around his eyes and in the curve of his chin. It was there in the peculiar angle of his ears.
This man looked far too much like her son Trevor.
He looked her square in the eye. “My name’s Mason Hinkle.”
“Bullshit.” The word sprang to her lips, unbidden. She suddenly wished she had her knife. She would feel so much better if she were holding it now. She wouldn’t feel so defenseless and alone. But the knife was in her bedroom and this man, this man who claimed to be a Hinkle, was standing between her and it.
He was still holding the envelope out to her. She stared him down for another moment, letting him know with her eyes she wasn’t up for nonsense. He didn’t look away.
She snatched the envelope from him and turned it over in her hand. Both sides were blank.
She slid a finger under the flap and tore it open. The letter inside was written on a single piece of legal paper.
She unfolded it and started to read.
Christine,
I hope to God this letter finds you and Will.
I don’t have time to write it all down. There’s so much you need to know. That’s why I’m sending Mason. You can trust him. He’s one of us. He’s a Hinkle. Listen to what he has to say. I was hoping not to involve you, but it’s too late for that now. So, I’m asking for your help.
Leave Trevor out of it, if you can. There’s still a chance for him.
Ask the man who gave you this letter where you kept the Tools all those years. That’ll be your sign this letter really is from me. Mason’s the only one I told about that.
Christine…I’m sorry.
Love, Frank
Christine crushed the paper in her hand. She looked up at the man.
“The freezer,” he said. “You kept the Tools in the freezer. The knife, the lighter, the cane. Am I missing any? Oh, and the head of one of the Unfeathered. That part always made me smile.”
“You read the letter.”
“I was there when he wrote it.” The man grinned sheepishly, and her stomach cramped. God, he looked like Trevor. And Jake. So much like Jake.
Christine shook her head violently. “I don’t believe you. That answer, it doesn’t prove anything. Zed reads minds.”
“Not Frank’s.”
She thought back to that day in Rook Mountain City Hall, when Frank opened the box and unleashed the Unfeathered on the town. It was true. Zed couldn’t read Frank’s mind.
“He could have tortured the info out of Frank,” she countered. “And how do I even know Frank wrote the letter?”
The man sighed. “I don’t know what else to tell you. Frank asked you to trust me if I could answer the question, and I answered it. I guess when it comes down to it, you either believe me or you don’t.”
Christine glared at him. “I don’t.”
He looked away. “Ma’am, I’ve come a long way, and I wish you’d at least—”
“Let me finish. I don’t believe you. Not fully. But I’m sure as hell not going to let you walk away if there’s any chance you’re the real thing. So I’ll talk to you. But I have conditions. Two of them.”
