by Sofia Grey
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Isabella had to be totally committed to the idea to have even the slimmest chance of success. “Young cousin, do you really think I’d offer if I wasn’t prepared to go through with it? I know the risks and accept them. If it works, it will be worth it.”
She looked confused. “Why are you doing this? We’re cousins, but you barely know me. You don’t know Davy. And you’re a ghardian. Isn’t there a conflict of interest?”
A huge one. I considered how best to answer. I can’t function properly because I keep obsessing about a girl who doesn’t want me. Doing this might give me some purpose. “I may never have the chance for love, but that doesn’t mean you should be denied.”
I was completely unprepared for Isabella to throw her arms around me. She squeezed tight. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. Even if it comes to nothing, thank you, a thousand times over. I will never forget your kindness.”
“The best way you can thank me is by following my instructions to the letter.” My voice was gruff.
“Juliet was right.” Isabella disentangled herself and moved back, smoothing her clothes.
“Juliet?”
“She said you weren’t so bad. It’s just sad she’ll never know how incredible you are.” A smile lit up her face, and it tugged at something inside my chest.
I’d make this work. Or die trying.
Part III
Isabella—3 months later
Chapter Twenty-Five
The message from Marc would have been vague to anyone else, but it made perfect sense to me.
Good fishing tonight.
Three little words that hid a world of meaning. It meant tonight was the night I’d make the jump. It would be the start of my new life, and I was terrified and excited in equal measure.
Reading the reports of my memorial service had been surreal. Seeing the pictures of my parents openly grieving, and Juliet weeping, had driven home the finality of my actions. There was no going back now.
I’d been in hiding for months, at first in a small Scottish village close to the English border, and more recently in a commune in Yorkshire. Any further south was Council controlled. I had a fake identity, of course, but even with my hair cut short and dyed a dark brown, I didn’t want the chance of being identified.
According to my record, I’d suffered psychological trauma following my jump assignment and had sought refuge in a Scottish colony, only to drown in a fishing accident. My body had never been recovered, but my small boat had been found in pieces, smashed on the rocky coast. After a nail-biting delay, some two months later, I’d been declared lost.
And then I waited for Marc.
My bag held the scant belongings I’d take with me, the clothes and toiletries I’d saved from my assignment. Marc would have cash, and if I was lucky, an authentic ID card. I’d researched with every spare hour I had, and if I wasn’t ready now, I’d never be. I clutched the bag to my chest and watched for his vehicle.
The sweep of headlights in the distance was a relief. I headed outside and took a last glance at the tiny cottage I’d called home for the past month. I was becoming used to life as a fugitive. By this time tomorrow, I could be back in 1941. The prospect of making my way—alone—to Holyhead and Davy’s family made my stomach wrench in fear, but I’d do it. Right now, I had to focus on the next few crucial hours.
Marc pulled up next to me, the eco-engine silent, and he opened the passenger door for me. “All set?” he asked, and I nodded a reply. I couldn’t speak over the nervous chattering of my teeth. It was finally going to happen.
We sped away, and before long, diverted from the main highway to the back roads. I looked at my cousin properly. Dressed in black, with thick stubble on his face, he looked dangerous. I shivered. This whole thing was fraught with danger.
Marc glanced across at me. “We’re about an hour away from the jump site. Time enough to run through the details. If you’ve had a change of heart, tell me now. There would be no shame in calling this off.”
I blew out a breath from tight lungs. “I’m good. Tell me how this will work.”
“The jump facility is a backup center and currently offline for building maintenance. I’m going to set a diversion in the grounds, and that will give us enough time to get inside and program the jump.”
“What kind of diversion?”
“A section of the complex will have a sudden power loss. It’s a regular occurrence, and they won’t be overly concerned.” He glanced across at me. “I’ve taken the power out three times before in readiness for tonight. I know how quickly they react. We have a safe window of ten minutes to scale the fence, get inside, and program the jump. I’ve practiced that too.”
“You practiced?”
“Of course. I don’t plan to leave anything to chance. There was a system restart a couple of weeks ago, and I used that opportunity to jump back and remove the pictures from the archive.”
“I meant to ask when you took them.”
“Remember when you came to me and told me I’d reclassified them? I hadn’t done it at that point. I didn’t have any idea what you were talking about.”
My cousin was a constant source of wonder. I still couldn’t comprehend why he was doing this for me, but I wasn’t going to stop him. The cold ghardian I thought I knew was actually someone multi-faceted, with a heart, whether he’d admit it or not.
“How do we get across the Council border?”
“We drive across the moors. That’s why I situated you here. It’s a long and sprawling border that’s only regulated on the highway. The complex is on the edge of a forest, and I’ll stash the vehicle there, under the trees. We’ll use the combined cover of darkness and woodland to get to the fence. You’ll sit tight while I set the disruptor grenade, and then I’ll come back for you. All right so far?”
The way he said all right reminded me of Davy, and I nodded. “Yes. Go on.”
“You’ll follow me into the complex. We have to move quickly to get there before the security feed comes back online. The jump suite is on the ground floor. From the minute we enter the building, we are silent. Although the security feed will be down, the audio recorders may still be running. Say nothing. Don’t even whisper.”
“Okay.”
“In order to hide the jump—cover your tracks—we need to recreate the coordinates from a previous jump to the period. When they audit the feed later, they’ll think it’s an echo, showing up as a natural side effect of the resync. You’ll actually be jumping back slightly earlier than before.” Marc paused and looked at me before returning his focus to the track ahead. “It’s not ideal coordinates, but it’s the best you’ve got. London, December 1940.”
My heart thudded. I swallowed and spoke through an already dry mouth. “The height of the blitz?”
“Yes. I’m guessing it was a special observer jump, to see how the natives coped under fire.”
Fire would be about right. The city suffered so badly during this period it was referred to as the second great fire of London. And I was going to jump right into it. I shifted in my seat and tried to squash down the fear. It lurked in my belly, cold and hard, just waiting for the right moment to slither through my veins and paralyze me. If I let it.
I blinked and forced myself to pay attention to Marc. “Were you able to get me any ID?”
“Yes. And some other useful things. Money, more clothes, and a little food. Enough to get you started. You’ll need to live quietly for the next six months until you can go and find his family and announce yourself as his girlfriend. It’s too dangerous to go to Mildenhall. Quite apart from the risk of meeting the sentinel, others might recognize you.”
I’d imagined my return would be in the months following my departure. I needed to wrap my head around this change. You won’t make it, muttered the terrified part of me.
“Where do you think I should go? What would you do?”
“London wil
l be chaotic, but it will give you a good background story and explain why you have no possessions or home. Or family. I’d head north, maybe Manchester. You’ll need a job to support yourself.”
“I’ll be looking for kitchen or café work. Or in a factory.”
“Your life is going to become unimaginably different, Isabella. I’m proud of you for being brave enough to take this chance.”
I didn’t feel very brave. Any minute and I was going to be sick. “Stop. Please.” Marc hit the brakes. I was already opening the door before the vehicle had come to a halt, and seconds later I bent over and retched into the grass.
Marc walked up to me with a bottle of water and a micro-cloth. “You okay?”
I took a few moments to draw breath and wait for the relentless churning to calm in my stomach before wiping my face and taking a few sips of water. “I think so. Thank you.”
“It’s not too late to stop, Isabella. This is probably your last opportunity to do so. In a few minutes we’ll be on foot and heading toward the complex.”
Did I want to give up? To abandon this insane quest while I still had a chance?
It was tempting to stay here, where everything was familiar. Even as a fugitive, I could probably live out my life under the radar.
I’d never see Davy again.
I’d come this far. If I didn’t try, I’d never know what might have been.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I slung the bag over my shoulder, the long strap across my body, and prepared to blend into the background. With the dark coat and headscarf provided by Marc, I was as hidden as I’d ever be. I followed him through the night, tiptoeing around trees, with just enough moonlight to make out the shapes and avoid crashing into them.
A glimmer of light in the distance heralded the jump facility, and my heart rate increased another notch, from crazy-fast to bruising-my-ribs speed. Marc angled his wristwatch to read the time and then held up two fingers to my face. Two seconds? Two minutes? I concentrated on breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth, and keeping my breaths smooth.
He touched my arm, and I looked up. A finger on his lips reminded me to stay quiet. I nodded. A flat palm held up meant stay here. This was where he’d sneak off to disrupt the power on the other side of the complex. I’d be alone.
I’d be alone for the next six months or more, until I found Davy. If I found him. There were no guarantees. What if our actions tonight changed the timeline even further?
Marc melted into the night. As much as I strained my eyes, I couldn’t tell where he’d gone. If he didn’t return within five minutes, I had to retrace my steps, take the vehicle, and leave. It would mean he’d been caught. Would I really be able to do that? I shifted my feet and peered into the darkness. The only thing I could hear was a night bird whistling in the distance. There was no sign of anybody here. Had he gotten it wrong?
I risked moving into a shaft of moonlight to check my watch. I needed to time him. He’d been gone maybe thirty seconds so far. The old-fashioned timepiece was right for the period and served as another jarring reminder of how different my life was going to be.
A low whistle to my right made me freeze, but it was Marc. He nodded and then pointed at the compound. As he did, the outside lights stuttered and failed, and we only had moonlight left. Someone shouted, their voice muffled, and another man answered. Lights flickered in the distance, presumably the security team looking for the failure.
Marc tugged me toward the fence, and I took a proper look at it. Easily eight feet tall, it towered over my head, shiny black chain links gleaming in the moonlight. Thanks to the power disruption, it would be safe to touch, but how would we get across? Marc was also carrying a bag across his shoulders, and he produced a lightweight synth ladder, unrolled it, and tossed it over the top. It immediately hooked into the metal links with a soft click, and when Marc yanked on it, there was no movement.
A little push meant I had to go first. We only had ten minutes. I had to move. My feet were like lead, and I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs, but I had to climb. Every second I hesitated increased the risk to us both.
I grabbed the ladder, a soft, cool surface, and began to climb. My hands were damp and clammy, and I was afraid of slipping, but I made myself move. Up. Up. Up. I took a breath, tried to stop the trembling in my legs, and carried on. Up. Up.
The ladder stayed firmly gripped underneath me, but how the hell was I supposed to get over the top? The fence swayed. I clung like a baby, bit my lip hard, and held my squeal inside.
One leg over the top. I straddled the fence. Don’t look down. I groped for the step on the other side, conscious of Marc hanging on beneath me. There it is. Closing my eyes, my heart pounding so loud I was sure everyone could hear it, I swung my other leg over and jammed it onto the step before I could fall. I was over. Now I had to go down again.
It was quicker to go down the other side, and blissful seconds later my feet hit the ground. Thank God. Marc scrambled over rapidly, silent and efficient, while I stood there, shaking. Curling his fingers around my hand, he tugged me, and we ran across the blacked-out grass and then a harder surface to the building.
Christ. If we were caught, what would happen? The risk for Marc far outweighed the penalty for me. He’d gotten me here. I wouldn’t put him in more danger. Come on, Isabella. I sucked in a breath, tamped down the rising swell of panic, and followed him exactly.
He paused at the door, did something clever with the lock, and then yanked it open and hauled me inside before closing it quietly behind us. A dimly lit corridor stretched ahead, and a dull beeping noise chimed over our heads. Shit. Was that an alarm? Had we triggered it? I twisted and looked for signs of security guards bearing down on us, but we were alone. Marc pulled on my hand and led me along.
I adjusted my scarf to make sure it still obscured my face. He wore a dark knit hat, pulled low. There may be cameras. Think of Davy. Remember why you’re doing this.
Through a door. The beeping noise continued, slightly louder. Down another corridor, and then through a set of swing doors, and suddenly we were in a portal generator. I recognized this setup from my first jump. Monitors across the wall. The huge bank of tech equipment. Medical boxes full of supplies. And the portal.
It hung in the air, like a fabric curtain from a pole, shimmering and beautiful. It was ethereal to look at, and I couldn’t help but pause and admire the sheer beauty of it.
I’d never see this again. I’d never see Marc again. He was my last link to my old life. My heart thudded, and for a second I feared I’d throw up again. Deep breath. And another. I swallowed down the nausea. Keep it together.
Marc was busy at the controls. Focus. How were we doing for time? I stared at my watch. Coming on to four minutes. I knew once the portal activated, Marc was only seconds away from shutting it down and getting the hell out of there.
I was petrified.
All the doubts I’d been ignoring, all the fears, all rushed to the surface and clamored inside my head. I couldn’t do this. It was too risky. My knees were shaking so badly, I needed to sit down. I was crazy. Why had I thought this would work?
The portal hummed. It was powering up.
I wanted to run. I wanted to be sick. My stomach twisted in knots, and there was no air in my lungs.
What was to stop me staying here and making a life in the colonies? I’d seen couples together, families, young children laughing and playing. The life I wanted.
I wanted that with Davy. Think of Davy. Together, with me carrying his baby. Our baby.
Marc touched my arm. The portal was ready. The fluid, light-filled beauty was gone. In its place hung a thick fog. It was time.
My mouth was as dry as the Sahara, and I couldn’t swallow past the boulder in my throat. I flung my arms around Marc and squeezed for dear life. In my head, I thanked him, begged him to stay safe, and said good-bye.
Wriggling free, I gazed at his dark eyes for the last time. This cousin I barely kne
w, whom I could never repay. He smiled. Did he understand?
I turned around and stepped onto the platform. Two steps. That was all. I could do this.
Out of all the things I expected to happen, I wasn’t prepared for Marc to clamp his hand across my mouth and step through the portal with me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
We lurched together through the fog and landed on a hard surface on the far side, Marc’s hand still tight over my mouth. Was he worried I’d back out? With me attached to his body, he hauled me a few steps away. The fog dissolved to an eerie green light for a second before winking out altogether. No one would ever know it had been there.
Why the hell would Marc jump with me? As soon as he released his hand from my mouth, I spun around to face him. “What are you doing?” I muffled my cry against his chest. “Why in God’s name did you do that?”
“Did you really think I’d let you jump alone?” He had the nerve to look offended. “Ghardians jump in pairs. It’s too dangerous for a singleton.”
“But,” I groped helplessly for the right words, “everything you said about me being on my own? You never mentioned coming with me.”
“I had to be sure you were committed, Isabella.”
“How will you get back?” A new thought sideswiped me. “Are you going back?”
“I have to, otherwise I’ll be hunted, and I’ve no intention of putting you at risk.” He paused. “Right now, we’ve more pressing concerns. Like finding out exactly when and where we are.”
“We don’t know that because…?”
“There’s usually someone on the other end to calibrate the landing.” He adjusted the bag across his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
In my shock at Marc jumping, I’d completely neglected to take note of our location. We were indoors, a dimly lit plain room with no windows. A damp smell lingered. A cellar?
Marc was already checking the door, a sturdy wooden construction. He opened it with care and peered through the gap. “All quiet. Come on.”
