by P. T. Hylton
His mother said, “This is Mister….” She faltered for a moment, her face reddening. “Why, I’m sorry. I just realized I don’t know your surname.”
The man grinned. “Oh, no need for all that. We’re among friends. Call me Charlie.” The man spoke in a strange accent. Zedidiah thought maybe it was Australian, though he wasn’t sure exactly what had led him to that conclusion as he’d never before heard an Australian accent. The man held out his hand.
The boy looked at it for a long moment, temporarily confused. He couldn’t recall ever having shaken hands with a grown man. Most grown-ups ignored him or yelled at him. The man’s fingers were strangely long, and the boy decided he didn’t want to shake that hand. Not at all.
He risked a glance at his mother. Her smile suddenly looked frozen, like the moment was paused and the only way he could unpause it was by doing the thing he didn’t want to do.
He grimly took the man’s hand. Charlie’s grip was strong, and his hand was uncomfortably hot. He gave the boy’s hand three quick pumps and mercifully released it.
“May I call you Zed?” the man asked.
The boy didn’t much care what the man called him. He was just glad to have his hand back. Something about Charlie’s hand felt wrong. This whole situation felt wrong.
And suddenly he thought he knew why. Zedidiah realized this man was his mother’s boyfriend.
It was the only possible explanation. Mom had been acting different lately. Dressing nicely. Staying out late. The signs were there, but the boy hadn’t wanted to see them. The sudden realization, and the implications of what it could lead to—meals on Saturday night with this man, a wedding, this oddly tall stranger living in their house—made him feel sick to his stomach.
“He’s a serious one, isn’t he?” the man asked.
“Oh yes,” Zedidiah’s mother said. “Always has been. Hardly ever smiles.”
Charlie looked at the boy for a long moment, then snapped his fingers as if an idea had just come to him. “We’ll see what we can do about that. Want to see a magic trick, Zed?”
Before the boy had a chance to answer, Charlie pulled something out of his pocket. It was a watch.
“Take a close look at this here,” Charlie said.
Zedidiah did. He looked at the pocket watch, and after a moment he found he couldn’t look away. There was something about the watch. It was like it was calling to him. Singing to him. He couldn’t hear anything, not with his ears, but that was how it felt. Like the watch was singing a melody so beautiful it might make his heart break. The boy had never felt anything like it. Not even close. It was intense joy and deep sorrow all wrapped together and swirled up.
The man slowly turned the watch and the boy saw something engraved on the back of it. A broken clock. Odd thing, having a picture of a clock engraved into the surface of an actual clock. But it felt right somehow. Beautiful.
It was all too much for the boy. He felt tears welling up in his eyes as the sensations in his brain hummed louder and louder until it felt like he couldn’t take it anymore.
“And, there you are,” Charlie said, closing his hand and hiding the watch from the boy’s eyes.
Zedidiah let out an involuntary moan. He wanted to see the watch again. He wanted to touch it. What he wouldn’t give to hold it in his hand, even for a moment.
His mother suddenly giggled, and the spell was broken. The boy slowly looked up. Something was wrong. Charlie wasn’t there. He’d disappeared.
The boy realized Charlie was suddenly standing on the opposite side of the room.
“What happened?” Zedidiah asked in a weak voice.
His mother let out another loud giggle.
Charlie winked at him. “Just a little magic trick. Like I said.”
Zedidiah’s heart raced. “What did you do?” His voice was louder now and there was anger in it.
“He used the watch,” his mother said. “He hypnotized us. Like a magician.”
Fury rose within the boy, bubbling up so unexpectedly it sent him reeling. “Why? Why did you do it?”
Charlie looked at him oddly. “It’s just a magic trick, Zed. Don’t you like magic?”
The boy clenched his fists so hard they hurt. This man had used that watch, that beautiful watch, for a parlor trick? That was not right. Not at all.
“Zedidiah, what’s wrong with you?” his mother asked. “Charlie’s new in town. Is this any way to act to someone who’s new in town?”
Zedidiah thought that completely irrelevant and would have said so if he hadn’t been too angry to speak.
“Aw, it’s all right,” Charlie said. “Guess the boy doesn’t like magic. There are stranger things.” He opened his hand for just a moment, a brief wonderful moment in which the boy was once again able to gaze upon the watch, and then slipped the timepiece back into his pocket. “Maybe cards are more your thing? Care for a game of hearts?”
The boy wasn’t listening. Because in that brief flash, the watch had let him know what needed to happen, and he’d instantly seen his only possible course of action.
Zed needed to steal the watch.
CHAPTER TWO: STRAINED
1.
Sophie popped the last cheese curd into her mouth. She’d been eating slowly, if sloppily. When the curd was gone, she would be forced to listen to Zed’s insanity unoccupied.
She glanced back and forth between Zed and Frank. In a lot of ways, this was between the two of them. These men hated each other. Or, maybe each of them represented something the other hated.
“I’m sorry,” Frank said. “It almost sounded like you were asking for our help.”
Zed chuckled. “Not exactly. More like offering mine.”
Frank leaned forward, his elbows on the table. Sophie’s mom would have cringed. “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.”
Zed said, “You came here to find me. Not the other way around.”
“And you were lying in wait.” Frank was talking louder now. Sophie could see by the way he clenched his fists he was getting heated. “If you think we’re going to help you, you’re sicker than I thought.” Frank looked to Sophie and Mason.
Sophie glanced down at her empty plate and sighed. Her food had been the only thing keeping her quiet thus far. She sucked at keeping her mouth shut. “Hold on. Let’s hear what he’s got to say.”
Frank’s eyes widened. “Sophie, you don’t know him like I do. There’s no point.”
She shrugged. “I’m not saying we do what he says. But we just spent fourteen hours in the car. Maybe I don’t want to get back in it quite yet.”
Frank sank back in his seat. He turned to Mason. “You got anything to say about this?”
Mason did not. His eyes were still glued to his former friend.
Frank sighed and motioned to Sophie for her to take the lead.
Sophie smiled. “What do you want us to do, and what do we get?”
Zed’s smile went a bit colder. “You’re direct. Tell me, why’d you come along on this trip?”
“You don’t seem to understand I’m the only one helping your case at the moment. You gonna answer my questions or not?”
Zed looked at her hard, and she felt…something. Like tiny tendrils crawling across her mind. It was an unpleasant feeling, like something crawling under her skin.
She tore her gaze away from his with a massive effort, and the tendrils let go of her mind, burning as they left her. “What the hell?” she yelled.
Zed tilted his head, suddenly seeming more interested. “Well now. That’s curious. Few are strong enough to do that.” He glanced at Frank. “I wonder if it really was happenstance that brought the two of you together.”
Sophie shook her head hard to clear it. “Don’t do that again. Answer the questions.”
“Fine,” Zed said. “I need you to do three things for me.”
“We’re listening,” Frank said.
“Remember when I told you every special town has a book?”
&n
bsp; Frank nodded grimly. Sophie watched him. She knew how much that conversation had spooked him.
“This town is no different. Thing is, I’ve had some difficulties locating the book. In theory, I should be able to find it with the compass, but it’s not working. I need you to find the book for me.”
Sophie squinted at him. “If you couldn’t do it with the compass, what makes you think we can find it?”
Zed gestured toward Frank. “This one here has a knack for doing things that have never before been done.” He paused, looking back at Sophie thoughtfully. “Both of you do, actually. I figured it was time I started using that to my advantage rather than my detriment.”
“There’s no way we’re giving you that book,” Frank growled.
Zed nodded. “I understand. I didn’t ask you to. I only need you to find it.”
“What’s the second thing?” Sophie asked.
“I need Frank to use that talent of his to hide the book. The four who are coming after me want it. If they get it, their job will be much easier.”
“Find the book and hide it,” Sophie said. “Got it. What’s number three?”
“My third request has to do with the four Exiles themselves. When they come, there will be a battle. Even if we are as prepared as I plan to be, the odds will be stacked against us very highly indeed.”
“That’s not a request,” Frank said.
“I have reason to believe they’ll be here in two weeks’ time,” Zed continued. “If by that point I have proven myself trustworthy in all things—if I’ve stayed true to my word and held to the strength of my convictions—I ask that you stand by my side in that final battle and help me kill them.”
There was a long silence. Someone shuffled their feet and Sophie turned. She’d forgotten all the men and women standing along the walls. She turned back to Zed. “That answers my first question. As to my second? What do we get out of all this?”
Zed smiled sadly. “I won’t lie. All I have to give you is this: best case scenario, you get to save the world. Worst case, you get a front-row seat to the apocalypse. You get to see it coming and fight it while the rest of humanity remains unaware that their extinction is moments away. I can’t guarantee we’ll win, but I do guarantee we’ll try our damnedest.”
After a moment, Frank chuckled. “That’s what you sold them?” He looked at the armed people around the restaurant. “The end of the world? Come on, man. At least in Rook Mountain, you had something real for the people to fear. At least they’d seen the Unfeathered. These Yankees handed over the key to the city on nothing but scary stories?”
Some of the people along the wall began to murmur, but Zed held up a hand to silence them. “Frank, you saw Vee. You heard what he said. Saw what he did. If I’m lying, what’s the harm? I’m not asking you to give me the book, just to find it. Hide it away from them and me both. But if I’m telling the truth and you don’t help me, the world ends.”
Frank shook his head. He looked at Sophie and Mason. “You buying this?”
Sophie’s eyes searched the room. She didn’t consider herself the most level-headed person, but she was beginning to think Frank was even less reasonable. He wouldn’t agree to Zed’s offer even if it meant they wouldn’t leave this room alive. And, from the looks on the faces around them, that might be the case.
She spoke softly. “What do you say we think it over for the night?”
“Sophie—” Frank started, but she cut him off.
“He’s right about one thing. We have to at least consider it. Besides, saving the world…seven billion people getting to stay alive isn’t a bad payoff.”
“No.”
The husky voice to her left surprised her. It was Mason.
“No,” the older man repeated. “It’s not enough. Not for working with him.”
Zed turned to Mason and looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time since he’d walked through the door. “Mason, I know I hurt you.”
“It’s not that,” Mason said. “It’s the reward.” He looked Frank and Sophie in the eye, each in turn. “He can give us more. Lots more.” He took a deep breath and then smiled in a way that was eerily similar to Zed’s own smile. “We bring you the book, and you use it to bring us the people of Sanctuary. My parents. The others, too. Everyone who died that night so long ago.”
Zed barked out a surprised laugh. “I taught you better than that. I can’t just pull them out of thin air. Even with a book.”
“You did teach me better than that. With the book and the compass, you can find a soft place and bring them through. Reach back in time and drag them here.”
“Okay…” Zed said. “Save a bunch of dead people from Sanctuary. Is that all?”
“No,” Mason said. He nodded toward Sophie. “Save her sister, too.”
Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. Was it possible? She tried to catch Frank’s eye, but he was staring at Mason in disbelief.
Zed drew in a deep breath, then said, “Fine.”
Sophie let out an audible gasp.
But Zed wasn’t finished. “You find the book. You hide it away. You help me battle my four pursuers. After the battle, if we’re all still alive, I’ll do as you ask.”
Sophie’s heart was racing. This was something to fight for. This was something to keep them going. If there was even a chance this was true—
“No,” Mason said again.
Zed’s smile wavered.
“Not after the battle,” Mason continued. “Before. We’ll get you the book, but then you save our friends. You do that, and we’ll fight for you.”
Zed leaned forward. “Impossible.” He almost spat out the word. “Even if I could do it in two weeks’ time, and I’m not saying I can, I’d be too weak for the battle.”
Mason didn’t even hesitate. “That’s our price. Pay it or don’t.”
Sophie couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. Zed was offering to save Heather, and the chance was slipping away. She had to find her voice.
But before she could, Zed said, “I’ll give you three. I’ll bring your mother, your father, and Ms. Porter’s sister. You meet my first two demands, and I’ll do it.”
Mason gave the slightest of nods.
Sophie felt like the room was spinning. She looked at Frank and saw the same dazed expression on his face that must be on her own.
Zed’s smile was weaker than usual. Sophie could tell he didn’t respect Mason. And now he’d lost a battle to the old man.
“That’s all for tonight,” Zed said. “Meet me at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Volunteer Park. There’s something I need to show you. In the meantime, Claire at the Holiday Inn is expecting you. She’s got three rooms ready. No charge, of course.”
Mason stood up and Frank and Sophie followed. They moved toward the exit, and the men blocking the door parted and let them pass.
None of them spoke until they reached the parking lot. Then Frank said, “Mason. Jesus, how’d you do that?”
Mason shrugged. “I’ve been dealing with him a bit longer than you have. He respects a hardline.”
Sophie couldn’t help it; she grabbed Mason and pulled him in for a tight hug. In the midst of all of that, he’d thought of her sister. She was overwhelmed with gratitude. “Thank you.”
He awkwardly returned her hug.
Sophie pulled back and looked at both Hinkle men. “He’s lying though, right? It’s a trick or a trap? He’s going to use us. It’s like you said. Whatever happens, we can’t trust him.”
The Hinkle boys said nothing. The only sound was the buzzing of the mayflies gathering in the sky.
2.
Matt Campbell pulled the truck out of the garage at seven twenty-five the next morning. Willis Eddy sat in Matt’s passenger seat, loudly sipping coffee from one of Matt’s thermoses. Matt flashed him a grin.
Matt had been doing his best to be extra friendly to Willis. He’d greeted him like the visit was an unexpected but pleasant surprise when the man
had knocked on the door at half-past three in the morning. He’d chatted with Willis for a few minutes and then offered to make up the old pull-out couch for him. In the morning, Matt had gotten up early—truth be told, he hadn’t slept at all—and scrambled some eggs and fried some bacon.
It had taken an effort of will to sit at his family’s table with Willis and have a casual breakfast. Like Willis wasn’t an unwelcome intruder. Like today wasn’t one of the most important days of their lives. But Matt had done pretty well, if he did say so himself. His dumb jokes had been even more frequent than usual, a nervous habit, but other than that he had managed to act normal. And Helen had been in top form. If Matt hadn’t known, even he wouldn’t have been able to guess she’d been up all night worried half-to-death about Zed’s armed lackey sleeping on their couch. Even Alice had done great, although her eyes showed the lack of sleep more clearly than her mother’s did.
Alice.
They’d known, Matt and Helen. They’d known for a long time. Since the girl was, what, three? Four? At first they thought maybe she was some sort of genius, the way she was so hyper-aware of the world around her. Then they’d thought maybe there was something wrong with her. But eventually they’d had to admit she wasn’t just aware of the world, she could see things that hadn’t happened yet. Not often, but sometimes.
It wasn’t something they talked about often, not even to each other. It made them uncomfortable. It led to all sorts of difficult questions. About why Alice had these powers. About what Alice was. Matt didn’t fully understand what she could do. He’d asked her to explain it once a few years ago. She’d tried, but the effort had clearly frustrated and upset her. For her, it was like trying to describe the color blue to someone who’d never seen it. Matt didn’t understand what she’d been trying to explain, and Alice didn’t understand why Matt couldn’t understand. Maybe when she was older, when her vocabulary had grown a bit. Maybe now was the time. It had been a couple years after all, and, God, how she’d grown up during that time. She wasn’t such a little kid anymore. She was starting to form her own opinions and views of the world. She had interests now that didn’t stem from her parents. Her world had grown as she had, and maybe now she’d be able to explain her abilities in a way even her dumb father could understand.
