He made it across the hill and down to the valley floor and the main one-lane tourist road into Silver City.
He eased up the road, going not more than ten miles per hour at top speed and staying almost against the hillside away from any cliff. Amazing how knowing he died going over a cliff on this road made him into the most frightened driver possible.
He hadn’t even bothered to buckle his seat belt because if he started over any edge, or the road started to cave away, he was getting out of this car.
He didn’t much like this narrow, twisting road along the tops of large cliff-like drops into the valleys below, but he had driven it a couple dozen times, so before today it hadn’t scared him.
Now he could barely breathe.
The road was no more than one car width wide and covered in hard dirt and loose gravel. And the road was dusty and rutted from the winter run-off. In a few places there was still winter snow drifted in under the shadows of the trees.
As he managed to crawl his Jeep up and over the top of the summit, he could see the Treasure Valley and Boise out before him, wonderful and green compared to the brown of the mountains around him.
Sherri was there, in that valley, waiting for him. He just hoped he could get there.
He eased the car along the inside of the road going down, moving slowly, keeping the car in first gear as if driving on snow and ice.
Sweat was dripping off his face and his hands gripped the wheel like a vice.
Duster had told him which corner he had missed, so as Carson eased around the inside of the left-hand corner where he had died in another timeline, almost scraping the edge of the hill, he saw a doe and two fawns in the road.
He stopped and put the Jeep into park and just stared at them.
More than likely that was what had caused him to crash. He had more than likely tried to miss the deer.
He put the Jeep back into first gear and eased forward toward the family of deer, honking until they ran up the hill away from the road.
At five miles per hour, he managed to creep his way around the next few turns and finally make it to a wide area in the road where the old narrow road joined a brand new mining road that was two lanes wide and maintained.
There was a wide turn-out there.
He pulled the Jeep off to one side and stopped and shut it off.
Then he climbed out, staggered toward the ditch, and lost the breakfast he had eaten in 1902 with Sherri and Bonnie and Duster and Dawn at the Silver City Hotel.
Then he just sat on the edge of the hillside, staring out over the green Treasure Valley. He could see the buildings of Boise tucked against the far mountains.
They seemed so close and yet so far away.
Sherri was there, waiting for him. And if he had to walk it, he would make it this time. He had gotten past the death curve. Now he was no longer on script. Now this was a new timeline and he just couldn’t mess it up before they got back in September.
He could do that.
But first he had to get off this damn hill.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
September 20, 2017
Boise, Idaho
Carson knew that Sherri and Bonnie and Duster and Dawn had all gone through to his timeline at 11:47 a.m. September 20th. So as Duster had told him to do, he had all four of them sitting on the mansion back porch at 11:30 a.m. waiting for a surprise.
He had served them all glasses of iced tea and Sherri had made some light cake slices for snacks, even though she also had no idea what the surprise was going to be.
He had not told a soul, not mentioned a thing for fear of breaking off a new timeline.
The day was going to be one of those perfect fall days in Boise, not too hot, not too cold, with no wind to speak of. And since there had been no frost in the valley yet, the oak and cottonwood trees that shaded the big mansion were still full green and lush.
The summer with Sherri had been wonderful.
That first night after surviving getting off the mountain alive, had been, by far, one of the best nights in his life. He had gone home, to the same house he lived in in 1902, yet modernized in just perfect ways.
And he had been greeted by a woman he had come to love more than even he wanted to admit to himself.
They had spent the full summer just enjoying themselves, working around the mansion, taking a long weekend to the Monumental Lodge, and spending time really getting to know each other. They had made no other trips into the past and were seldom apart.
He loved that.
But now came the day he had worried about. He didn’t remember dying on that hillside back in June, but if the plan to merge all timelines worked, the four people sitting with him would suddenly remember.
He had no idea how they would return to the crystal cavern and then be here, but he trusted Duster on that.
He hadn’t hinted at anything at all. He had followed script perfectly in 1902 and hadn’t slipped even a hint this last summer. No matter what happened, he was going to be glad that stress of keeping that secret would be done.
Carson also hoped the wonderful summer of memories he and Sherri had just built would overshadow all the pain Sherri had gone through in the other timeline with his death.
He didn’t want to be a ghost to her in any way.
Sherri was sitting beside him, Bonnie and Duster were across from him, and Dawn sat between Sherri and Bonnie with her back to the mansion.
Carson glanced at his watch. One minute.
“Please put down your glasses,” Carson said. “Time for the surprise.”
Everyone looked very puzzled, but did as he asked.
Carson reached over and took Sherri’s hand.
“I love you,” he said. “Just remember that.”
“I love you as well,” she said, looking a little puzzled.
“I know you do. You have proven it in so many ways.”
CHAPTER FORTY
September 20, 2017
Boise, Idaho
With her hand firmly placed on the wooden box on the table in the crystal cavern, Sherri watched as Duster put on a glove and unhooked one wire.
She had no idea what she expected.
She hadn’t asked.
She just hoped Carson would be alive. That’s all she hoped.
So far, all her trips through time had seemed like nothing had happened when the wire was hooked up or unhooked.
But not this time.
As Duster pulled the wire from the machine, around the four of them a shimmering wave washed through the big cavern and the light from all the crystals seemed to beam even brighter for a moment.
And then the cavern vanished.
It was like the time she had been outside the mine on the tailings with Dawn and then found herself in the cavern. No sense of movement.
Nothing.
She now found herself sitting on the back porch of the mansion with Carson.
Duster and Bonnie and Dawn were also there.
The shimmering around her stopped and vanished like a heat wave off of hot pavement.
And then the memories of the last summer with Carson slammed into place, shoving aside the memories of the summer with him dead.
Sherri just blinked, staring at Carson.
Could the plan have really worked?
She knew he had made it home to the mansion in June, only an hour or so late. He had said nothing about why it had taken him extra time and she hadn’t asked or cared.
And she remembered the wonderful summer they had spent together clearly.
Every detail.
And she also remembered the helicopter flight and his wrecked car and the trip back to try to save him.
Carson smiled at her.
“I’ll be go to hell,” Duster said, clapping his hands together. “It worked!”
That was all Sherri needed.
She sprang from the chair and into Carson’s arms before he had time to move. Luckily his chair did not go over backwards as she kiss
ed and hugged him, crying like a baby.
“My turn!” Dawn said.
Sherri crawled off of Carson’s lap and pulled him to his feet as a crying Dawn hugged him.
Then Bonnie did the same.
Then Duster shook his hand just as hard as he had done on the driveway in May of 1902.
“You did it,” Sherri said to Carson. “I don’t know how.”
Carson just smiled a smile so large, Sherri couldn’t believe it.
“You have memories of both timelines,” Duster said to Sherri. “Can you remember any differences before the wreck?”
Sherri thought back, holding Carson’s hand so hard she was afraid she might hurt him. But she couldn’t stop, couldn’t let go for fear he would not be there if she did.
“Nothing,” she said, after a moment. “Nothing.”
“Then more than likely all the timelines have merged,” Duster said, smiling and again clapping his hands. “We are the only four that remember the crash that now never happened.”
Once again she hugged and kissed Carson.
She had just spent a wonderful summer with him.
And she had just spent a horrible summer after his death.
The same summer.
Two different timelines, now merged into one where the wreck never happened.
She remembered both clearly. But now, here, Carson was alive. And that was all that mattered.
Now they could put a lot of years between this last summer and the present, make so many hundreds of years of memories together that the half memory she had of his death would no longer matter.
Only the summer of being with him mattered.
That was now her only true timeline.
She hugged him and kissed him again. She knew, without a doubt, she was going to be doing a lot of that.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
September 20, 1897
Outside of Boise, Idaho
Sherri stood with Carson on the edge of the empty parcel of land he had just bought that would hold their home, the Edwards Mansion.
The day was cool, the afternoon air promising an early fall. The oak and cottonwood trees covering the property were still in full green. Brush filled the edge of the bluff that went down to the river beyond.
They had tied their horses up to some brush near the rutted wagon trail that would be called Warm Springs Avenue at some point fairly soon.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Carson asked.
“Did you stand here like this every time before when you built the mansion?” Sherri asked, looking up at the man she loved.
“I did,” he said, smiling at her. “And every time I decided to build the mansion again.”
“So you build it again this time,” she said.
“We build it again,” he said.
“No, you build it and I’ll watch,” she said. “I don’t want to do anything to change anything about our wonderful home.”
He nodded. “I don’t either, to be honest.”
She could, in her mind’s eye, see the big mansion sitting there, stately among the trees. It seemed like an impossible task standing here now with just open ground, but she knew Carson could do it and had done it thirty-one times before.
And he seemed to want to do it again.
Then they would fake his death in twenty years and head for Europe together. She really wanted to research some of the homes of the period in France for a rehabilitation project she had taken on and clients who like turn-of-the-century French décor.
But after the construction of their home was finished next spring, they would have a wonderful twenty years together in the mansion before heading to Europe.
That sounded perfect to her.
Then, after this trip back in time, maybe they would live a few more lifetimes here in the mansion together, building it again, living in it again, and then traveling together around the world.
She wanted to put a lot of years between a present time and the half memory of that summer.
Together, they stood, arm-in-arm, staring at the empty ground where their home would be.
And where in the future it now stood.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today bestselling author Dean Wesley Smith published more than a hundred novels in thirty years and hundreds and hundreds of short stories across many genres.
He wrote a couple dozen Star Trek novels, the only two original Men in Black novels, Spider-Man and X-Men novels, plus novels set in gaming and television worlds. Writing with his wife Kristine Kathryn Rusch under the name Kathryn Wesley, they wrote the novel for the NBC miniseries The Tenth Kingdom and other books for Hallmark Hall of Fame movies.
He wrote novels under dozens of pen names in the worlds of comic books and movies, including novelizations of a dozen films, from The Final Fantasy to Steel to Rundown.
He now writes his own original fiction under just the one name, Dean Wesley Smith. In addition to his upcoming novel releases, his monthly magazine called Smith's Monthly premiered October 1, 2013, filled entirely with his original novels and stories.
Dean also worked as an editor and publisher, first at Pulphouse Publishing, then for VB Tech Journal, then for Pocket Books. He now plays a role as an executive editor for the original anthology series Fiction River.
For more information go to www.deanwesleysmith.com, www.smithsmonthly.com or www.fictionriver.com.
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Table of Contents
Introduction
Sighed the Snake
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
Our Slaying Song Tonight
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
They're Back
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
I'm Her Dead Husband
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
Variations on a Scream
Three A.M.
The Edwards Mansion
About the Story
Dedication
A Historical Note
PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
PART TWO
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
PART THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
PART FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
About the Author
Copyright Information
Smith's Monthly #14 Page 21
