Mrs. Woods goes on with her story, enjoying the retelling. “They were so close, and then ol’ Kate and Gabriel, they pulled a fast one.” Mrs. Woods smiles. “They sure did. Got away at the very last second. With their daughter, who was just a newborn baby at the time. Oh, it was a close one. But they got away. You know,” Mrs. Woods gestures toward the cabinet, “they got away using the other book, the companion volume to that one.”
“There’s another one of those?” asks Daniel. Bertrand the cat wanders in, bumps into their legs and curls up on the floor in front of the cabinet. He seems satisfied that The Book of Regrets is in good hands now.
“The Book of the Future,” Mrs. Woods says. “Long ago, before we began using the portals, the books carried in their pages the imprint of time. They still do today. They are a record, but they are also a passageway. So you can imagine why the Tromindox are so interested in them.
“When the baby was born, the Tromindox saw an opportunity to cut off the bloodline of the Silverwood clan before she could grow up. But Kate and Gabriel, and their baby, they managed to escape just in time. They took a great leap forward, they did. Oh, it was masterful.” Mrs. Woods beams like a proud aunt. “They are very creative people.”
“Where are they, now?” Daniel asks. The pieces of the story are still jumbled in his mind. He decides it’s best to let Mrs. Woods enjoy recounting her tale.
“Well Kate, she and her kids are on the road to Brokeneck right this minute. I do hope they got rid of that clunker of a car they were driving. That thing was a dead giveaway. Gabriel, well, he’s had a lot of troubles. For a long time nobody was quite sure where he was. I received a communication that he is out of prison, though. So my bet is that he’s with his brother Christopher.”
“Sounds like a fun family,” Daniel says.
“They’re all we’ve got, Daniel, all we have to defend ourselves. I just hope they get here in time,” Mrs. Woods says.
The sun has dropped behind the bookstore, the shadows of the buildings and trees lengthening until they reach all the way across the street.
“Where are we going?”
“Ah, so you are still there,” the Tromindox says.
“Yeah, I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. Not until I blast you to bits first,” Christopher says.
“Alright, go ahead and try, I’ve heard that threat many times before, puny human.”
Sometimes Christopher can see what’s going on around him, other times everything is blurry and dark. Sometimes he can hear, too. Always, he can hear his own thoughts—and so can the Tromindox. Christopher still has a chance to emerge from his predatory host, if he can just hold on long enough. If he could find that vial of blood… he can’t fight physically right now. He has to save his energy.
“Where are we going?” he asks again.
“The future,” says the Tromindox. “To a very special place that belongs to us. None of you humans even know it’s there. And do you want to know the best part?”
“What’s the best part?” Christopher asks.
“Our prey comes to us.”
“To your special secret location? How does that work?” Christopher’s mind hurts.
Several Tromindox gather in a circle, each holding a portal.
“We’re going, now,” the Tromindox says.
“What do you lure your prey with? How do you get them to come to you?” Christopher says again. He must stay focused and conscious.
“We lure them with whatever they want,” says the Tromindox. “Whatever it is the humans want more than anything else, they believe they will find.”
“They will find it in this place where we are going,” says Christopher.
“That’s precisely right,” the Tromindox answers.
“How do you convince the humans that they will find the one thing that they want more than anything?” Christopher asks.
“We don’t have to,” the Tromindox says.
Christopher’s surroundings seem to come apart. The Tromindox must have activated their portals. The group comes unstuck in time.
“You see,” the Tromindox continues, “humans are all looking for something. They are never satisfied with what they have.”
Christopher has the sensation of flying through a very long tunnel at an extreme rate of speed. The sides of the tunnel blur and stretch out.
“Always looking for something, those humans. Never happy…”
Darkness, and then more ribbons of light flashing by.
“So you see, it is so simple,” the Tromindox continues. “All that we do is, suggest—
merely suggest—to the humans that whatever it is they seek, a lost loved one, wealth, greatness… it’s waiting for them. All they have to do is travel to this place. And the humans fall for it, every time. The trap is set.” The Tromindox laughs, if that’s what you can call it. A silent, mental laugh.
“And you know what happens after the first person shows up and falls into the trap? Another human invariably comes looking for them,” says the Tromindox. “It’s a cycle. The second person seeks the first person. So we tell them where their loved one is, and they come. And then someone else comes looking for that person. And so on. All searching. All showing up of their own accord, once we give them the means to get there, put a portal into their hands… ”
More ribbons of light, and the colors begin to stick together in wider bands. Christopher is tired now. He must rest to keep his strength for when he busts out of this creature. But before he does, he takes a look around.
The scene changes again, the light grows stronger, and they have arrived at their destination. It looks like a ghost town out of an old Western movie. Christopher gathers the impression of a main street, lined with wooden buildings, and hills standing behind them. A tiny town sitting at the bottom of a valley.
Christopher Silverwood must rest again.
The blue coupe, which has been given the name Betty, tears down the interstate. She can hit speeds that were unheard of in the station wagon. And there is no trailer to pull any more, Betty fits the bill just fine.
They are making much better time. As an added bonus, Betty’s engine roars loudly whenever she accelerates and purrs deeply the rest of the time.
The road remains desolate and monotonous, punctuated only by broken fence posts and grass and the occasional rock or shrub lit up by the headlights. A distant ring of mountains, barely visible in the last glow of sunset, never seems to get any closer. Brokeneck sits on the other side of those mountains, so Betty will have to reach them eventually. Right? Surely the mountains will look closer by morning. They had better get closer. A whole lot closer.
“Hold on,” Helen says, straightening up in her seat and squinting out the window.
“What is it?” Kate asks. Kate is driving now, although after they stole the car she let her daughter stay behind the wheel for a while. The road was straight, so it provided a good place to practice. The road now resembles that ancient video game… what was it called, “Night Driver?” The one that consists of just two lines on either side of the road and a car and nothing much else.
“I just saw some lights,” Helen says.
“Civilization! A sign of life!” Henry says from the backseat. His sketchbook rests on his lap, and his arm rests on Clarence, who must now sleep in a much more compact, curled up position than he did in the huge station wagon. This is the great thing about Clarence the dog. He is very much like his family. He does the best he can with what he’s got.
“I just saw lights that were exactly like the lights I saw a few minutes ago,” Helen says.
“Exactly like them in what way?” Kate asks.
“Exactly the same. Same size, same distance, same everything.”
“Are you sure you’re not just losing your ever-lovin’ mind on this endless road?” Henry says. Where does he get these expressions? His mother wonders.
“They are really the same,” Helen says. “Two lights, close together. Pretty far awa
y from the road.”
“There they are again!” Helen yells, putting her hand up against the window. “What is that?”
“Okay, now—” Kate says, and decelerates. She pulls the car over to the side of the road, the tires crunching over gravel and rocks. She shoves open the driver’s door, climbs out of the car and puts her hands on her hips. Kate has a suspicion.
The pair of tiny square lights stare out from the horizon like eyes. They are too close to the ground to be streetlights, but too far apart to be the headlights on a car. Kate squints at them.
A device buzzes in the front seat. Kate slides back into the car and picks it up.
“Gabriel?”
The screen displays static while the channel comes in, then, the rough outline of a person’s head appears.
“Kate? Babe, you there? This is a lousy channel.”
“Yeah we’re here,” Kate says. “What about you? Are you okay?”
“Yes. You? The kids?”
“We’re alright, we’re okay. We’re… well I’m not sure. I think we’ve gotten caught in a loop. Helen noticed it, or we would’ve lost a whole night going nowhere.”
“A loop? Way out there?”
“Yeah, somebody must have dropped it on us while we were driving. I didn’t even see it. Where are you? Where’s Christopher?”
A pause.
“Kate, they got Chris.”
Kate looks up at the kids. Unfortunately they can hear this.
“Where is he now?” Kate asks.
“Kate, I got separated from him. We were coming, to your location, and they got to him when I was already halfway here. I saw it, Kate. It was really bad. They… ”
Kate stares at the static. She knows what her husband’s face looks like now, she doesn’t need a clear picture. Helen and Henry sit still and silent.
“Kate,” Gabriel says, “we’ve got some asses to kick. You get here, to the coordinates I’m sending to you, and we’re gonna kick some ass. Okay? Together. The Council, they’re in on this somehow, Kate. It doesn’t look right. I’m telling you. Don’t trust anybody. They’re doing something, somebody is working with the Tromindox.”
“Why the hell would the Council—of all people—ally themselves with the Tromindox?” Kate says.
“I don’t know babe, it’s all jumbled up in my head right now. But the pieces are there, I’m telling you. Somebody’s forging an alliance, I know it. Kate?”
“Yeah?”
“If the Tromindox have Council technology, and the other way around, you’ve got to stay low-profile. Promise me. No bounty hunting. No nothing. Okay? Hey Helen? You there?”
“Hi dad,” says Helen, leaning in toward the screen. Kate holds it up for her.
“How are your hacking skills these days?”
Helen smiles. “Good, dad. Mom kind of wishes otherwise.”
“Alright. Well, I’m guessing someone has found this conversation by now, so to whoever you are listening in, good evening to you. Helen, I want you to spend some quality time with that gift I gave you. Okay?”
“You mean the… ”
“No no, remember, we’ve probably got an audience,” Gabriel interrupts. “Just remember what I said.”
“Okay… alright,” Helen says. She feels the handle of the knife in her pocket.
“Hey, where’s Henry?”
“I’m here, Dad.”
“Henry, are you seeing anything interesting these days?”
Henry looks down at his paper. Without realizing, he’s drawn a Tromindox with a mohawk. He looks up.
“Dad, I see Uncle Chris. He’s okay, Dad, but he’s in a Tromindox.”
“Okay, you keep drawing, would you Henry? Someday soon we’ll get you a Guild Sponsor. Stay focused. We’re going to find your uncle. And we’ll find you guys, too; you just bust out of that loop there… ”
Static. The channel cuts off.
“Damn,” Kate says. She tries to dial Gabriel back in, but it’s no use. These bootleg channels never last long; someone cuts in or hijacks the signal. Kate slumps back in the front seat of the car, door open, one boot on the ground.
“Mom?” Henry says.
“Yes, Henry.”
“He’s in a town. Uncle Chris. He’s here somewhere.” Henry holds up the sketchbook and points.
Henry has drawn another old Western town. It resembles Brokeneck. “He’s someplace where we’re going.”
Kate’s mind is moving fast. The Tromindox and the Council? What could they be doing? There is no way that is a friendly alliance. One or the other of those groups must have the upper hand. And the dominant group will determine what happens next…
Kate stands up out of the car. “Helen?”
“Yeah, mom.” Helen gets out and stands looking down at the knife, and the bio-reader in its handle. Maybe some time soon the reader will activate, because Helen and her dad will be in the same space and time. Maybe soon.
“Time to hack this loop, Helen,” Kate says to her daughter.
Helen pops the knife back into her pocket and looks up at her mom, unsure what to do. “Okay… ”
“You can do it. Henry, you come along, too—in case you see something.”
Kate walks to the middle of the road; Helen and Henry take up positions on either side of her. Clarence rests his head in the car window to watch the proceedings.
“Alright,” Kate begins, “Here’s what has happened. We have found ourselves in a loop. That is why you are seeing those two lights over and over. Helen it’s a good thing you noticed, or we would have wasted the whole night driving and gone absolutely nowhere.”
“To break out of this loop,” Kate continues, “we have to discover the precise point where it begins and ends. Okay? That’s the seam. I’m betting it’s right about even with those lights that you keep seeing.”
“Mom?” Henry says.
“Yes, Henry?”
“Why are we in a loop?”
Leave it to Henry to ask the big questions.
“We are in a loop because somebody doesn’t want us to get to where we’re going,” Helen answers.
“Helen’s right,” Kate says. That is a bigger problem. The issue before them right now is to escape this loop and then afterward sort out who might be dropping loops on them.
“Who doesn’t want us to get there?” Henry asks.
“Probably the Tromindox,” Helen says. “Maybe they think they can trap mom here, and then she can’t hunt them down any more.”
“Yeah,” Henry says, nodding. “Containment.” That seems like a viable theory.
“We do not have a lot of time, so let’s just focus on finding the seam in this loop right now. Okay?” Kate says.
She steps forward slowly, looking side to side. When she reaches a position in the road even with the two lights in the distance, she stops.
“Helen?” Kate says.
“Yeah?” Helen steps up even with her mom.
“Take this.” Kate hands her daughter a device. “I want you to watch as we move forward, right here.”
“What am I watching for?”
“Just pay attention. The seam is here somewhere, and we need to know exactly where it is.”
Together, the three of them take one step forward, then another.
Helen looks down at the screen on the device. Instinctively she pushes the button on the side. Static. She runs her hand along the edge of the screen. There’s a little edge, just there. Soon she can visualize the inside of the device, its circuits and its memory.
Helen pulls the knife out of her pocket and uses its tip to gently pry the edge apart. A tiny circuit board pops out. Helen takes her thumbnail and pushes against the board, here, then there. The pattern of lights on the board change. The screen continues to display static. Helen looks up at the lights in the distance, then takes another half step forward.
The device makes a whining noise, and then begins clicking like a tiny clock. As Helen moves forward, the clicks slow. Back, and they
speed up.
“You’re dialing it in, Helen. That signal is coming from the seam,” says Kate. Clarence has joined them, moving his ears around as the sounds from the device change. “We need an exact, pinpoint location. So move very slowly… ” Kate wants her daughter to solve this puzzle on her own. She keeps her directions to a minimum.
Helen backs up a little more. The clicks now make an almost continuous whirring sound. And then, suddenly a high-pitched beep.
“Stay right there!” Kate says. She fishes a digital compass out of her coat. “We need to determine this exact position.”
Kate holds the compass right in front of Helen’s nose. The display on the compass flashes, and then a long sequence of numbers flies across the screen… 868467484986658… Calculating coordinates to eighty decimal points.
Kate waits for the compass to finish its calculations, and then punches a button to lock the number. “There it is,” she says. “Everybody in the car.”
With everyone inside, Kate leaves the brake on and guns the engine so that Betty’s rear wheels spin on the asphalt, kicking up a cloud of black burnt tire rubber. Clarence sits up to take notice.
“We have to reach a high enough speed,” Kate says. “With enough velocity, we can crack the seam open and get out.” Kate lets off the brake and the car rockets forward. Road, fence posts and grass whiz by, and then those two lights appear again in the distance. A couple of minutes, and there they are again. And then again, quicker this time.
“Helen, take this compass. You need to detonate that device in your hand at the very moment that we hit these exact coordinates.” She hands the compass to her daughter.
“Um, detonate?” Helen says.
“Yes, Helen. You’ve got to blow it up in exactly the right spot. You do that, it splits the seam, and out we go,” Kate says.
“And if I don’t?” Helen asks. There go those two lights, again. They are flying by now.
“Well I’m afraid if you miss the mark, dear, you probably detonate us, instead,” Kate says. “So I suggest that you hack those devices together and synchronize them.”
Helen turns back to look at her brother, who sports a wide grin. This should be good. She looks down at the device, and sets the compass in her lap. She pulls a cord out of the side of the compass, and plugs it into the device. Then she turns the device over and pops open the back. She runs her finger across it, and pries loose a tiny metal piece the size of a staple. She turns it at an angle then tries to maneuver it in again, but it snaps off and falls on the floor.
Silverwood Page 15
