by James Riley
Kara snorted. “No way. This has got to be the darkest time line. If anyone out there is deciding things, they must really hate us.”
That was a possibility. If the readers listened to Nobody, they probably did hate him. But what if they didn’t? What if after reading about him and Bethany, they actually did want to help, but just didn’t have a lot of choices? This was Nobody’s doing, after all, so who knew what he was allowing the readers to choose from?
Readers had gotten them out of the time prison, after all. And now Owen could travel between stories, too. Granted, a lot of terrible things had happened along the way, but it wasn’t like the story was over or something. What if the readers really had been doing their best to help, and he’d just been blaming them this whole time for things that were out of their control?
If nothing else, there was an easy way to answer those questions.
“I have an idea,” Owen said, standing back up. “I think I know how to restart the TSA.”
Kara sighed. “And how exactly can we do that? No one knows who founded it except the Countess, apparently. But she had all of time to find the founder, and we’re going to get tracked the moment we step back into my world. She’ll capture us, and that’ll be that. The only thing that’d protect us is if we found the exact time of the founding, since in that moment, reality wouldn’t have been changed yet. But there’s no way of knowing when or where that moment is!”
“True,” Owen said. “Except I think I have a way to cheat a bit and find that moment.”
“You can’t cheat destiny,” Kara said. “Have you listened to what I’ve been telling you?”
“Well then, let’s make it work for us instead of against us,” he said. “I’m going to ask for a favor. It might backfire, but I’m not sure what other choice we have. Besides, it can’t hurt to be a bit optimistic for a change.”
She seemed confused but slowly stood up and took his hand. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Just pick a place and time to travel to, whatever pops into your head,” Owen said, hoping he was right about this. “But don’t do it just yet. Wait until I bring us back into your world, and then the moment we hit, go for it.”
Kara gave him an odd look but nodded. Owen closed his eyes and turned his thoughts outward.
Readers: I’m hoping I’ve been wrong about you all along, and if so, I’m really sorry. All I’m asking for is a sign. You’ve seen what we’re up against, and as fictional people yourselves, I don’t imagine you want us to leave Kara’s reality under the control of the Countess. Not to mention whatever Nobody is going to do to your world when he separates it from the nonfictional one. So I hereby grant you the power to choose again. Please, help us! You have the power to fix things and save everyone. All you have to do is tell Kara where to send us.
He paused, crossing his fingers for this next part. I know you don’t know where the founder of the TSA is either . . . unless you know something I don’t, I guess. But I know what these Pick the Plot books are like. You can cheat. All you have to do is hold this page and flip ahead to check the various options. If we get captured by the Countess, turn back right away to this page and try again. Once you find the right one, then go from there. Okay?
Thank you.
Owen slowly opened his eyes. “Now, are you ready?” he asked Kara.
She nodded, reaching for her bracelet.
Owen ripped a page open through the worlds and back into Kara’s story. “Go!” he shouted, and together, they jumped through.
Readers, there is actually no need to “cheat” as Owen suggests. The time and place were revealed by the Time Security Agency founder earlier in this very book. If you don’t remember, then by all means, try out each option below. No one will judge you.
HAVE KARA TAKE THEM TO LIVERPOOL IN 2515.
Turn to page 79.
HAVE KARA TAKE THEM TO BRANSON IN THE YEAR 14.
Turn to page 222.
HAVE KARA TAKE THEM TO KYOTO IN THE YEAR 10,000.
Turn to page 168.
HAVE KARA TAKE THEM TO TALLAHASSEE IN THE YEAR 2000.
Turn to page 184.
HAVE KARA TAKE THEM TO SOMERSVILLE IN THE YEAR 2054.
Turn to page 270.
HAVE KARA TAKE THEM TO MUNICH IN THE YEAR 4120.
Turn to page 33.
GET UP! YOU CAN’T STAY IN BED ANYMORE!
The thought hit Owen so hard that he immediately leaped out of bed, his eyes flying open. Where had that thought come from?! Right before it hit, he’d been telling himself everything was going to be okay and that he didn’t need to get up.
Now that his eyes were open, he took a chance and looked around. Unfortunately, even with almost no light in the room he could tell that this was definitely not his bedroom. First of all, the walls were only like seven or eight feet apart, just wide enough for the bed to fit between length-wise. Second, and more important, his windows at home weren’t made out of metal bars. That right there was a pretty big clue. Not to mention the whole roaring thing.
Owen stepped onto the mattress and grabbed the bars over the window, trying to peer through. It was just as dark outside, with no moon as far as he could tell. But even the nonterrifying sounds didn’t make any sense. The buzzing insects, for example, were so loud it was like someone had turned their volume up as high as it could go.
Another growl-scream came from just outside the window, and Owen gasped, pushing himself out of sight of the window as his heart raced again. Or maybe it hadn’t slowed down yet?
“Why did I get out of bed for this?” he whispered to himself.
Quietly, he stepped down off of the bed and moved slowly to the other side of the room, where bars formed a fourth wall. He felt around until he found something that seemed like a door, then gently pulled on it, hoping it was unlocked.
Nope, no such luck. Great. Had Nobody just stuck him in a jail cell to rot, then? Was this where he was supposed to learn what it was like to be a fictional person? Even if an author was in control of a fictional person’s life (which Owen still didn’t believe), that didn’t mean the fictional person was stuck in a cell for their whole life! At least not unless you were making a really annoying analogy.
Owen banged his head into the bars over and over, silently cursing Nobody, the Dark, and himself (mostly himself) for getting into this. “I’m not going to spend the rest of my life here, am I?” he whispered.
Suddenly, the lights clicked on in both the room and the hallway outside. The cell door that Owen was hanging on to opened, pulling him halfway into the hallway. He quickly leaped back inside, not sure what else was out there, as a strange voice spoke from various speakers in the ceiling.
“Good morning, prisoners. Welcome to the last day of your life!”
Turn to page 177.
Liverpool in the year 2515,” Kara said, grabbing Owen’s hand and hitting the bracelet. They jumped forward in time, only to appear in the middle of nothing. Everything was blank, a white world absent of anything, just like the space between stories.
“Wait, what happened?” Kara said. “The time bracelet says we’re in the correct year, but this can’t be the same place.”
What did this mean? The world was just . . . gone. Had Nobody split the fictional and nonfictional worlds, and this was the result?
“Something’s very wrong,” Kara said.
“It sure is,” said a voice, and they whirled around to find Dolores with several robed guards. She immediately touched Owen and Kara on the neck, and they both collapsed to the ground.
The last thing Owen heard was Dolores’s voice getting farther and farther away. “Bring them, but keep them asleep. The Countess doesn’t want them to wake up before she disposes of them.”
Readers, turn back now! This is the . . . the wrong . . .
And then everything went dark.
As Dolores’s hand touched his chest, Owen desperately hoped the readers had fulfilled his request. Uncertain what else to do, he wille
d his entire body to just . . . stop, to completely freeze the entire thing in time. If Dolores could use his powers this way, then he could too, assuming the readers had agreed to it! And now even if Dolores stopped time around his heart, the rest of him would be frozen too, and no damage would be done. Then he’d be able to unfreeze all of himself later, and everything would be fine!
That was the theory, at least. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.
As Dolores froze time around his heart, pain shot out through Owen’s entire body, and he gasped. Dolores grinned at this, then stood up to get a better view as he grabbed for his chest, the world going dark all around him. What had happened? Had the readers not heard him? They couldn’t have just left him to die, could they?
Really, readers? That was just cruel. Why don’t you put the book down for a while and think about what you’ve done. Then come back and try the other choice by turning to page 157.
TIME FOR ACTION. CHOOSE A CHALLENGE AND GET OUT OF HERE ALREADY!
Yes! It was time to get things done! He almost leaped toward the nearest air lock before stopping himself. Where had that thought come from? Time for action? That’s not something he’d ever say. What was this?
“Owen?” Kara said, and stepped closer.
“I’m fine,” he told her, rubbing his temples. Why would he think something like that? It was almost like when he’d been writing thought bubbles for Bethany, and—
“Wait a second,” Owen said, his eyes opening in just about every way. “No. Oh no.”
This was a Pick the Plot book. That meant readers were choosing how the story progressed. But they weren’t making decisions for Kara, the story’s main character.
They were choosing Owen’s adventure.
“Are you kidding me?” he whispered, looking all around the ceiling as if he could see the readers. But that didn’t make sense, they wouldn’t be visible. He tried thinking at them instead.
You’re telling me what to do? That’s what these loud thoughts have been? You ordering me to do stuff?
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Kara said to him. “What’s going on?”
Owen gritted his teeth to keep himself from screaming. How was this fair? Random readers were deciding what happened to his life? No way. They weren’t in control here, he was! He wasn’t fictional, and they couldn’t just change his story to whatever they wanted.
. . . Could they?
“It’s . . . one of those nonfictional things,” Owen told her, repeating what she’d said to him back when the Countess had attacked. “Sorry, I just have something to work through. It’s probably better if you don’t know.”
She nodded, but he could tell she was worried about him. This whole Kara thing wasn’t exactly helping his mood either, honestly. “Just let me know if I can do anything,” she told him, and took a step back.
He bit his lip hard, then forced himself to smile. “All good,” he told her. “Which air lock were you thinking?”
That’s right, readers. I’m going to let her pick. This is one choice you don’t get! Try to tell me what to do again, and we’ll see who’s in control here.
Kara pointed at the first one, labeled with a large “1” over the door and a simple-looking analog clock right below it. “Each air lock has a clock, and all three are running differently. I’m guessing that’s a clue about the challenge.”
She was right. The first clock was moving clockwise, but much faster than normal; the hands were practically flying around the face. The second one’s hands froze in place for about a minute, then moved forward normally for five seconds, while the third was running at a normal pace but backward, counterclockwise.
“I’m happy to choose,” she said. “But didn’t you say something about a nonfictional way to remember the code? Maybe you should pick instead, if that’s the case.”
Owen dug his fingernails into his palms, trying not to say anything he shouldn’t, at least not out loud. Finally, he took a deep breath. “You’re probably right,” he said. “Let me think about it for a second.”
She smiled, and he closed his eyes.
Well, readers? You’re all about telling me what to do, why don’t you go ahead and pick? You’re the ones who are going to have to remember this code and all. Go for it! Tell me how to live my own life. Because that’s not messed up at all, not in any way. I hope you’re happy with yourselves!
Let’s see your amazing, genius pick, readers! Come on!
HAVE OWEN PICK AIR LOCK ONE.
Turn to page 260.
HAVE OWEN PICK AIR LOCK TWO.
Turn to page 317.
HAVE OWEN PICK AIR LOCK THREE.
Turn to page 110.
OWEN’S BEING A JERK. MAKE HIM PUNCH HIMSELF IN THE FACE.
Turn to page 366.
YOU HAVE TO SEE THE DINOSAURS. GO LOOK OUT THE WINDOW!
The thought plowed through Owen’s thoughts like a runaway train, and almost before he knew it he was standing on the bed’s scratchy blanket with his face pushed as far through the bars as it could fit.
Outside, giant leafy plants blocked almost all view; it was the thickest jungle Owen had ever seen. He squinted his eyes, trying to make something out using the light from the room, but it was just too dark outside.
And then Owen realized that the insect noises had all grown quiet, and he could actually make out something between the leaves. A pair of green-and-yellow-flecked eyes, each at least three inches wide, stared back at him, then slowly blinked.
YIKES, OKAY, THAT’S ENOUGH. GET OWEN AWAY FROM THE WINDOW BEFORE HE’S EATEN.
Turn to page 278.
YAY, A DINOSAUR! HAVE OWEN REACH A HAND OUT TO PET IT!
Turn to page 182.
RUN! HIDE! NO ONE IN HERE SHOULD KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
The thought hit Owen like a tidal wave, and before he could even think clearly, he was off, pushing past the girl.
“Sorry, you’ve got me confused with someone else,” he said over his shoulder, moving quickly down the hall, not knowing why, just that he had to run, to hide, to get away from her. He slipped behind a large, round prisoner covered in tattoos of different digital times. How had she known his name? Was she working with Nobody? Maybe she was here to make sure he never escaped!
“Owen, I know it’s you,” the girl said, and he started moving again, sliding past a group of prisoners talking about which challenge to try first. He glanced back to see if she was following him and almost ran into another prisoner, who pushed him aside, growling.
There wasn’t anywhere to actually hide in here, not in such close quarters. How could he get away from her? How could . . .
Wait. Why was he trying to hide again? She had asked what he was doing here, which meant she wasn’t expecting to see him. That meant she probably wasn’t working for Nobody. Anyone he’d sent would know Owen was there.
So what had sent him running like that? He’d just felt so fearful, so paranoid all of a sudden. But the more he thought about it, the less intense the feelings were, and with a deep breath, he was able to push them aside and turn around to face the girl.
“Um, hi?” Owen said as she strode toward him, looking far angrier than he’d have liked.
WAY TO GO, OWEN. YOU MESSED IT UP.
Turn to page 103.
TELL KARA THAT YOU’LL NEVER SEE HER AGAIN IF SHE GOES, AND YOU CAN’T TAKE THAT.
The thought exploded in his head, and his mouth opened before he could stop himself. “Kara, I’ll never—”
He immediately clamped both hands over his mouth, turning bright red. What had he just been about to say? Had that been the readers?
What are you trying to do? he thought at them. I just met her today! That doesn’t help!
“I would have just let the agent take me,” Kara was saying, not looking at him. “But I had to make sure you got to the right time myself. Can’t let you have adventures in time without me, you know?”
I need something else! Owen thought as loudly as he could. Really,
I’ll take anything!
OWEN SHOULD SAY THAT LEAVING WITH HIM TO ANOTHER STORY WOULD FIX THINGS.
Turn to page 8.
OWEN SHOULD SAY THAT THEY’LL FIND A WAY TO FIX THINGS IN THE FUTURE.
Turn to page 180.
The woman’s staff glowed, and a shimmering light much like the one guarding the city appeared around Owen and Kara, growing over them like a bubble. Owen tried to push his hand through it, but his touch just sent tiny ripples out in every direction.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” he told Kara.
“Isn’t that one of those lines from Star Fights?” she said, putting her hands on the bubble as well, as if to feel for a weak spot. “I’ve heard you talk about those movies so much I feel like I’ve seen them.”
Owen had no idea what to say to that, so he just slumped against the shimmering light. Fine. Magicians from the no-longer-lost city of Atlantis had captured them, and they couldn’t escape. But there was still a bright side: At least these magic-users had to be better than facing the Magister, Kiel Gnomenfoot’s teacher. After he’d found out his whole life existed in a book series, the Magister had gone insane and tried to kill not only Bethany, but Kiel and the author of the books, not to mention the entire science planet of Quanterium. Hopefully, if these magicians learned the same news, they’d handle it a bit better.
If this was even still the fictional world at all.
The bubble rose into the air, which made both Owen and Kara reach out to steady themselves, but the flight was remarkably smooth. They bobbled gently along behind the woman as she floated into the city. Back over the ocean, the magical wall sizzled constantly now, even collapsing in places as lightning bolts sent more magic-users falling to the sand or water.
As they passed over the city itself, people ran or floated in all directions both above and below them. Even though it looked like widespread panic, no one was making any sound, so the city stayed deathly quiet. Maybe they were speaking by magic? Or maybe they could see the future and knew this attack had been coming, so weren’t surprised?
