I straighten up and have only just begun to try to formulate a plan when Genesis appears in the hallway behind me. She’s breathing hard and working to reload a weapon. She looks up from her gun and sees me. “Ben! You’re alive! Come on!” She holsters her gun, grabs my arm and activates her Temprovibe before I can say a word. The next moment we’ve jumped again, and I have no idea whether it was forward or backward or remotely how far, but we’re still in the hallway. “This way!” Gen pulls her gun again and leads us behind the time gate.
“What’s going on? Who’s shooting at us?”
“Members of The Order. They brought a couple of cryo-heads with them.” Genesis checks her gun and I do the same. She consults her Temprovibe and taps in some coordinates. “Jonah is the next one through. We need to get that cryo out of the hallway before he shows up or he won’t stand a chance.” She pokes her head around a hole in the wall, then throws a leg through. “Come on.”
I follow her through the hole and we enter the empty space on the other side. “What is a cryo-head? More body enhancement? Who would want to live like that?”
Genesis shakes her head. “They didn’t choose it. The cryos were created by the Zealots from people who’d frozen themselves. They raided cryogenics labs early on in their strike against time travelers. They consider it punishment for trying to cheat death. The cryos are given the option to fight for The Order or be left to thaw without a body.”
“Some choice,” I say, scanning our surroundings.
We’re in a skyscraper and high up, judging from the sky beyond the windows at the far end of the room. The entire floor has been gutted. A couple of elevator shafts and staircases punctuate the space in the center, and the hallway we’ve just come from runs the width of the building behind us. Otherwise, the space is comprised of structural support columns, electrical wiring and the remnants of an air conditioning ventilation system. Bits of insulation and broken concrete litter the floor. Genesis scans the area, then positions us in view of the wall where I last saw the cyborg crashing through to shoot me. We’re behind his position now, or will be I suspect, when we jump back to whatever time that was.
“Okay, listen up. Jet and I have run this drill before. He’s planning to meet us at the gate when Jonah arrives, too, so don’t shoot him.”
“Where is he now?”
“He and Cliff are taking out the other cryo.”
“Where are the others?”
“I don’t know. I lost track of Bozzle. He was alive when I saw him, but he disappeared. One of The Order was after him. Deanna is with Tad. Blaine didn’t make it.”
“He’s dead?”
“Come on. We need the others if we’re going to make it out of here. You ready?”
I don’t feel ready for anything, but I nod anyway. Genesis grabs my arm and we blink.
We’re back in the noise. My mind goes silent with adrenaline. Gunshots echo from the hallway and, through the gaping hole in the wall, I spot the cyborg’s metallic body. Genesis seems to be aiming for its head, so I follow her example. She’s fired at least three shots before I have the composure to fire my first. As best I can tell, I miss my target completely. I try to focus. Genesis’s shots have landed and the cyborg turns, leaking a gas from a juncture at the back of his helmet. I squeeze the trigger and see a spark of contact near its neck. The right arm rises and we move. Genesis yanks me sideways and we sprint behind the concrete columns of the elevator shafts before the Gatling gun can cut us down. Bullets rip concrete as the cryo tries to track us.
“How are we supposed to kill that?” I exclaim when we’ve reached cover.
“We can’t. We need Kara and Milo. We just need to distract that thing long enough to get them through. Jonah first, though. If you want that kid to live we’ve got thirty seconds to make it happen.”
I’m about to speak when a man in black materializes to our right. He lifts his gun, but Genesis is faster. Her shot hits him in the chest and he staggers back. Surprisingly, he doesn’t go down. He struggles to recover, but Genesis hits his gun arm with her next shot then puts two more into his chest. This time he yells in pain, dropping his weapon a moment before he disappears.
As soon as the gun hits the floor I’m running for it. I’m vaguely aware of Genesis shouting something I can’t make out. The booming of the Gatling gun registers through the slow motion haze of my mind and bits of concrete explode from a column to my left as I go into my best softball slide and scoop up the gun. The rounds from the Gatling gun kick up debris around me and I turn in time to see Genesis step from the corner of the elevator to unload on the cyborg. I don’t know whether her cover fire is distracting enough or if I’m just experiencing the kind of luck only stupid people enjoy, but the cyborg’s bullets go high, screaming over me, and I’m allowed a brief second in which to aim. The weapon has levers and knobs and God-knows what any of them are for, but I ignore everything except the trigger, hoping that in however many centuries have elapsed, that one piece of firearm technology will have stayed the same. My faith is rewarded with a silent blast of raw power that explodes from the barrel and catches the metal torso of the cyborg where its non-existent heart ought to be. The metal body jolts and shudders as its chest fragments into oblivion. The head and shoulders twist and topple forward, bending the remaining strands of metal on the right side. The arm holding the Gatling gun crashes to the floor and is followed by the rest of the body.
I’m prone on the floor still staring at the heap of metal when Genesis sprints for the hallway. “Come on!”
I scramble to my feet, holstering Charlie’s revolver but keeping my new weapon ready. The doorway ahead has been blasted from its hinges and leans precariously into the room on splintered chunks of doorframe. I follow Genesis through and almost collide with Bozzle as he reappears in the hallway. I jump aside and hit the wall. “Holy shit!” I grab at the wall to steady myself.
Bozzle’s eyes are intent on me. I’ve never seen him anything but calm before, but now his brow is furrowed and it makes the horns on his head more prominent. They seem to have extended slightly. Everything about him is bristling and his eyes are an impossible shade of black. His body is tensed and, as he reaches out a hand to steady me, my heart skips. He’s terrifying like this and I have to force myself to relax and remember he’s a friend.
“More are coming. We must flee.” Bozzle’s voice is firm and forceful. From down the hallway I hear voices as Jettison and a ragged looking Cliff step around the time gate. Jettison kicks debris away from the arrival area and waves to Genesis.
“Jonah is almost here.” Genesis checks her bracelet and dashes toward the time gate. The gate illuminates ahead of her and Barley bounds through. He skids to a stop and immediately begins to growl. The dog looks quickly from Jettison to Cliff but is addressing his aggression elsewhere. Barley’s neck bristles and his nose twitches as he seems to smell something he doesn’t like. I don’t blame him. The hallway reeks of smoke and dust and something oily. Particles of insulation linger in the air around the flickering hallway lights. Jonah steps through the time gate and immediately smiles when he sees me.
What happens next occurs so quickly that my brain almost can’t process it. My view of Jonah is mostly blocked by a figure that appears in the hallway just behind Genesis. She doesn’t see him as she continues running for the gate. The man is facing away from me, but even from behind I recognize the shape of him, the hard angular lines of his shoulders and the haughty way he holds his head. The peppering of gray hair around his ears would match the color of his eyes if he was facing me, but he isn’t. He’s raising an arm holding a revolver that he levels directly at Jonah’s head. From my angle I can see down the barrel to Jonah’s face and his smile that is fading in confusion. There’s no time to act and I’m barely able to get my empty left hand up in a useless gesture toward Traus Gillian’s back. I can’t reach him. He’s too far. How can I explain to him about this boy and that there must be some terrible mistake. Something must b
e broken with the world if anyone has sent him to shoot this innocent kid who should never have ended up anywhere near such an awful place.
Traus doesn’t hear my anguished protestation because it only exists inside my head as he’s squeezing the trigger. His hand seems to be moving in slow motion and I hear the explosion of the gun before I see what has changed beyond it. It’s Jettison now, stepping in front of Jonah and taking the bullet in the chest. The force of his intervention keeps him moving sideways and the bullet vanishes into his body as he knocks Jonah away behind him.
My gun arm finally responds and lifts my weapon toward Traus’s back. Cliff raises his shotgun, too, but Traus vanishes as fast as he appeared, leaving us pointing our guns at one another. I immediately aim mine to the ceiling as Genesis screams. She rushes to Jettison, trying to catch his collapsing body as he tumbles to the floor. Bozzle pulls a knife from his belt and spins in the hallway, holding it by its blade and set to throw at any new attacker. I dash toward Jettison and Genesis, casting glances through the holes in the walls, wary of more threats. Jonah is standing shell-shocked behind Jettison’s fallen form. The dog snarls as Genesis runs up, and it snaps at her, but she only has eyes for her brother. She drops to her knees and reaches for him.
Jettison is still alive, but his chest has started to bleed. He’s grimacing in determination, trying to keep himself propped up on one elbow, and has the wherewithal to grip Gen’s hand when she reaches for him. I move to Jonah’s side and crouch next to the siblings. I’m no doctor, but I can tell it’s bad. The bleeding wound is almost directly in the center of Jettison’s chest. Blood is soaking his T-shirt and a little red mist sprays out of his mouth as he tries to speak. He coughs and more dribbles from the side of his mouth. He must realize his danger because, when he looks at me, his eyes have an edge of fear. He reaches his other hand out for me and I take it as Genesis cradles his head and shoulders in her lap. Jettison uses some of his fading strength to pull me closer as Genesis tries to put pressure on the wound in his chest. Jettison stares into my eyes and chokes out the words. “Tell the kid it’s not his fault.”
I don’t know what to say, so I merely squeeze his hand. “I will.”
Jettison’s eyes start to grow hazy and he looks from me to Genesis. For a moment he seems almost surprised to see her there. “Hey, Gen.” His mouth curls into a smile and the light in his eyes fades away. Genesis is frantic. She presses harder into his chest and screams his name. Her face is streaked with tears and her mouth keeps forming the word ‘please’ even after all the sound is choked from her voice. Cliff steps to her side and crouches next to her to console her. He looks at me and jerks his head toward the hallway. I understand what he means and I stand to take over guarding us. Jettison’s fingers fall from mine as I rise, and his hand lands limply in his lap.
Bozzle continues to scan the area as I step over Jettison’s feet to join him. The dog has gone to Jonah and positioned itself in front of his legs. I gesture for Jonah to join me and he does so hesitantly. He looks from my face to my gun and fumbles at his belt for his own weapon. He holds it up with both hands and points it down the hallway toward the spot where Traus appeared. I nod to him and use my free hand to squeeze his shoulder. I have no idea what to say to the kid that could make any of this any better, but he holds his arms up steadily and concentrates on the hallway. It’s fortunate that he does because, mere seconds later, an armed man in all black appears a few feet from where Traus had been. Jonah instantly squeezes the trigger of his weapon and the man’s expression goes limp just before Bozzle’s knife thuds into his forehead. The man crumples backward onto his back, his muscles flaccid.
The alien stalks forward and keeps his back between the fallen body and us as he extracts his knife. The colored lights of the time gate dapple the ceiling and I turn to witness Kara stepping through. She takes one glance at Jettison’s fallen body in Gen’s arms, then sees Bozzle crouched over the man in black and strides immediately past me, gun at the ready.
“How many were there?”
“A couple of these guys and some robots with human heads,” I reply.
“Cryos.” She almost spits the word. “Before or later?”
I point through a hole in the wall toward the heap of metal that was the cyborg. “Just a few minutes ago. The guys in black keep popping around and there was another. The man who shot Jet. It’s the same guy who killed Ivan.”
Kara’s eyes narrow. “Was he one of The Order?”
“I don’t know what The Order is. I just know it’s been the same guy since the islands. I ran into him in New York and the Hindenburg, too.”
Milo’s voice comes from behind me and I turn to find him at the edge of the time gate looking down at Jettison. He raises his eyes to Bozzle next, and the prone body in black. “That is a Zealot of The Order of Zsa. They won’t stop hunting us out here in the open. We need to get to safety.” He looks from Genesis to me. “How many did we lose?”
Cliff answers him. “The boy from the academy is outside, pretty banged up. His guide didn’t make it.”
“Where’s Viznir?” I haven’t had time to fret over my own guide’s absence until now, but his disappearance is starting to make me wonder.
“He must’ve lit out as soon as he arrived because I never saw him,” Cliff says. He stoops and grips Genesis’s shoulders. “Come on, Gen. We’ve got to let him go.”
“NO!” Genesis clutches her brother’s body tighter, but her anger instantly crumbles back to grief and the emotion breaks across her face like a wave, her lip quivering and tears flowing freely down her face. Cliff lifts her bodily to her feet and she shrieks once like a wild animal, but he presses her to his chest till she buries her face in his shirt. He keeps his arms around Genesis as she weeps, but looks at me, gesturing toward Jettison with his head.
I swallow hard and nod, stepping over to Jettison’s body. I study the Temprovibe on his arm, not sure how to turn it on but not wanting to disturb Cliff. “Where do we send him?”
Kara glides past the others and squats over Jettison’s body. She doesn’t ask me to move, but I get out of her way anyway. She brushes through a bit of rubble on the floor and selects a smooth black stone. She taps the Temprovibe and selects time coordinates faster than I can follow. Then, in the only moment of sensitivity I’ve seen from her, she gently takes Jettison’s hand and places it palm up on his lap. She sets the stone in his upturned palm and holds her finger over the Temprovibe. It wavers there for only a moment. In that moment she looks sad, but the moment passes and the hardness returns to her eyes. She taps the Temprovibe and Jettison’s body disappears. The stone clatters to the floor and she scoops it up in one fluid motion and hands it to Cliff.
Genesis has stopped sobbing but is still pressed against Cliff’s chest. Her one visible eye follows Kara’s movements as the stone is passed to Cliff, then closes again.
Kara yanks her pack loose and searches one of the side pockets before extracting a plain metal length of pipe. She has a photograph attached to it and I recognize it as an anchor. Milo helps her degravitize it as she pulls a nearly identical pipe from the other side of the pack and explains the plan. “We need to relocate quickly. I have somewhere we can go that will be safe for now.”
“You’ve been here before?” I ask.
Kara merely glares at me in response. She notices the gun I’ve picked up and points to it. “You know how to use that?”
I study the side of the gun. “Squeeze the trigger and blow big holes in stuff?”
Kara steps over and yanks the gun from my hand. She flips a toggle back and forth on the side. “This turns it off. This is low power. This is high. The rest of the features will be beyond you.” She flips the switch to off and shoves it back into my hands. “Don’t obliterate yourself with it.” This last statement is uttered without condescension, making me acknowledge the fact that I really could obliterate myself somehow. I double-check the off switch.
I follow the others outside onto
the wrecked roof of the larger floor below us. The building is tiered and we’ve arrived near the apex. The holes on our level are repeated elsewhere in the shell of the building below. The skyline is bleak under dark patches of gray shifting clouds. Moonlight illuminates a few neighboring structures from somewhere above but doesn’t penetrate near us. Mountains define the eastern horizon, but the air has the distinctive scent of the sea. I take a few steps toward the edge and am surprised to find the bases of the buildings are not anchored in dry land, but climb directly out of turbulent water below. Looking east in new fascination I try to orient myself to the nature of this strange city. In that direction the skeletal buildings gradually run to ground, and in the distance I make out a familiar lighted shape. “Is that the Space Needle?”
I’ve addressed my query to no one in particular and when I turn toward the others it’s clear that no one has heard me. Bozzle is helping Deanna to her feet from her hiding place behind a wreck of an air conditioner. Deanna in turn reaches into the darkness behind the machine and she and Bozzle both work to lift a battered-looking Tad Masterson. Tad staggers forward a step, then nearly collapses again, Bozzle catches him just in time and props him back up. Deanna gives me a semblance of a smile as she tries to assist her friend over to where Kara has stopped.
Kara and Milo have measured out a space for the anchors and are discussing the proper spacing of the pipes. Ultimately they lay the pipes across a few stacked cinder blocks and when they seem satisfied with them, instruct me to join them. Cliff and Genesis linger near the edge of the building. I catch just a snippet of Cliff’s speech. “He would like the ocean well enough. Seems our best option . . .”
I can’t make out what Genesis says in reply, but Cliff offers her the stone anchor. She shakes her head and her shoulders shudder as she tries to contain her emotions. Cliff nods, rubs his thumb across the top of the stone once, and then hurls the anchor toward the darkness of the sea in the west. The black stone vanishes immediately in the night and I wouldn’t be able to see it hit the water from where I’m standing anyway, but I imagine it plunging into the waves and sinking its way to the floor of the bay.
In Times Like These: eBook Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 90
