The Children Who Time Lost (61 page)

“It’s them,” he screamed. He went for his gun, and some of the others followed suit.

Doug and I opened fire, our AN-94s firing maybe five hundred rounds per minute. The men staggered to the floor, the bullets piercing their bodies. Everything stopped moments later. I stared at the carnage in front of me. The elevators and the walls were riddled with bullet holes, and blood was everywhere.

Doug seemed unfazed by what he’d just done. The guards had only been doing their jobs, and now they were all dead, but Doug appeared to be beyond a state of remorse. His actions were now entirely on behalf of the Earth. I knew I should have felt the same, with all the lives I’d already claimed, but I couldn’t help but feel horrible every time I killed someone.

Three of the radios on the floor crackled, and we could hear running feet beneath us.

“They’re coming,” Doug said.

He pushed the elevator button, but nothing happened. He pushed it over and over. I looked up and saw that none of the other elevators were moving. They had finally been disabled. But why had it taken so long?

“We’ll take the stairs,” Doug said.

I ran after him, and this time we joined the eastern stairwell and continued up. Just then a loud gunshot came from up the stairs. Doug spun back and screamed in agony. There was a wound on the right side of his stomach. I knelt and examined it. There was an exit wound, but blood still poured out. Automatic gunfire took out chunks of the wall beside us. I helped Doug down the stairs.

“Just go,” he said. “Get to the western stairwell. I’ll slow them down here.”

Tears formed in my eyes. “I’m not leaving you. We’re doing this together.”

More bullets struck walls a few yards from us, sending debris into my eyes. Doug unhooked the weapons bag and tossed it to me. “You remember how to use the C4, right?”

I shook my head and grabbed his face. “That’s your job. You’ll make it.”

He gave me his AN-94 and rested his head against the wall, as if surrendering to his fate.

I leaned toward his ear. “I have an idea.” He gave me a bewildered look but listened to what I had to say.

When I was finished, I sat him up straight. Then I checked the clip of my Glock and showed him. He nodded and I put it back into the chamber and placed it in his hand.

“Go,” he said.

I nodded and walked through the door. Then I lay on the floor and watched through the glass portion of the door. I could hear the approaching footsteps of men headed down. Doug fired the Glock at them. I heard a groan and a thud, like the sound of a body dropping. Then automatic gunfire flew down. Doug fired a few more rounds, but then only a clicking sound came. He was out.

I stood up and leaned against the wall, ensuring that no one would see me.
This is it
.

The footsteps kept coming until I saw men in gray suits edging closer to Doug. There were five of them, all with automatics trained on him.

“Drop the gun,” one of them shouted. He had a round face and a coarse beard.

Doug threw the Glock down and held his hands up. A skinny Hispanic man beside the bearded man ran down and picked the gun up. Then the other three joined them, and they stood in a semicircle around Doug. I edged closer to the door and spurred myself on. It was either them or Doug. Someone had to die.

“Where’s the girl?” the bearded man demanded.

Doug met his gaze but then looked at the floor again. The man grabbed Doug’s chin and forced his head up. Then he pressed a pistol I didn’t recognize against Doug’s temple.

“I’ll ask one more time. Where’s the girl?”

“She’s dead,” Doug mumbled.

The man’s expression didn’t change. Instead, he pressed the gun deeper into Doug’s skin. “I’ll give you one more chance to tell me where she is.”

Doug glared at him “I told you. She’s dead.”

The skinny man tapped the bearded man on the shoulder. “She’s probably still in the building. We can find her.”

The bearded man took two steps back. Then all five men joined him and pointed their pistols at Doug. I kicked the door open, leaped through with the AN-94 and opened fire. I hit the bearded man first. Multiple rounds went through his chest, and his body tumbled down the stairs. Then I moved my hand left and right, in the direction of the other four. They all dropped to the floor, but I kept shooting. The heat from the gun started scorching my hands, but I couldn’t get myself to stop. The pain grew unbearable after a while, and I threw the gun to the floor. I stood there, just staring at the open eyes of those I’d killed, staring back at me. I didn’t feel any remorse this time. I was just glad that they were the ones lying dead on the floor, and not Doug.

“Thank you,” I heard Doug say.

I turned and saw him struggling to his feet. I ran and helped him. We stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, but we heard more and more footsteps coming up, as well as the crackling of radios. I picked up the AN-94 and strapped the weapons bag across my shoulder.

“We need to get to the western stairwell,” I said.

He nodded and moved with me, grimacing with each step. But then he stopped me. “The radio.”

I gave him a confused stare.

“Grab one of their radios. We need to know what they know.”

I nodded and grabbed the one beside the skinny man’s corpse. I rushed through the office area toward the western stairwell. The floor was empty. I could feel Doug’s energy fading. I kicked the stairwell door open and stuck the gun out. We edged out to silence. It was much the same all the way to the 108th floor. I ran to the office area, eased Doug to the floor beside a corner desk and tore some material from my shirt to cover the wound.

“I won’t make it,” he said. “Leave me and go. You must.”

I shook my head. “You wouldn’t leave me.”

The radio crackled. I stared at it as if it would come to life and attack me. “Vazquez,” a voice said, “what’s happening down there? Do you need us to come down?”

I frowned and stood partway up. The voice seemed to be coming from somewhere other than the radio.

“What?” Doug said.

I put my finger to my mouth and kept scanning the room. Then I saw five men standing against a wall about twenty desks away.

“Vazquez,” one of the men said. It was the same voice I’d heard.

I reached down and turned the radio off.

“What’re you doing?” Doug said.

I leaned close to his ear. “The men speaking are just over there.” I pointed.

Doug grimaced and rose to his knees. We both stared at the men for a moment. Then a portion of the wall rose into the air, revealing a gap the height and width of a standard door. Five more men ran through it and spoke to the men who’d been standing there.

“My God,” Doug said. “That’s it. That’s the secret passage to the master portal.” He looked at me with excitement in his eyes. “We’ve found it.”

I smiled but kept listening. Then I reached for the radio. “I’ve got an idea.” I handed the radio to him. “Can you wire the radio so it distorts our voices?”

He nodded and took it from me. “The bag.”

I gave it to him and he pulled out some screwdrivers. I left him to work and looked back in the direction of the men. More had come through the still-open wall. Then one of them placed his hand on the side and a green light ran up and down his palm. The door shut and it looked like a normal wall again.

“Got it,” Doug said.

I grabbed the radio. “So, they won’t be able to tell I’m a woman?”

He shook his head. “They won’t have a clue who they’re talking to.”

I grabbed it and held it to my mouth. “They’re on the fiftieth floor. Men down. We need backup now. Please—”

I cut the radio off and moved back to the edge of the desks we’d hidden behind. I could see them shouting words into the radio, but nothing came back. Ten of the guards drew their guns and headed our way. I helped Doug to roll under a center desk and then joined him. I heard footsteps run past. The door to the western stairwell slammed open and the footsteps faded.

I rolled back out and glanced at the wall. Only two guards remained. I ran back and helped Doug to his knees.

“This is our best chance to get in there,” I said.

He studied the two guards for a moment. “I’ll help you take care of them, but I can’t go any further.”

I held his face. “Now you listen to me. I’m not leaving you out here to die. You’ve earned the right to finish this with me, and that’s what we’ll do.” I placed my hand by the earpiece, hoping that Curtis’ voice would come through telling us everything was all right. But I heard nothing.

Doug held his hand out, and I helped him up. I gave him the other AN-94 from the bag and he inched forward. The guards were facing the wall opposite them. They wouldn’t see us approaching until we were about ten yards away. But it was still possible that they could hit us once they did notice our presence. Doug raised his gun and took aim. He nodded at me, and I crawled forward on my hands and knees. I stopped moving when I got to within five feet of them. I kept still and waited. A single sound would have caught their attention.

I heard three rapid rounds come from behind me. The bullets struck the man closest to me in the chest, sending him crashing to the floor. The second man raised his gun and ran forward. I charged out with my Glock aimed at him. “Don’t move,” I screamed.

He stopped, his gun still raised. He would have needed to make a full 180-degree turn to direct his weapon at me.

“Rachel Harris,” he said.

I wasn’t surprised he knew who I was. I was becoming almost as much of a celebrity in the Shrinik community here in 2013 as I’d been in 2043.

“Do you even know how to use that?” he said.

“Try turning around and you’ll find out. Now drop your gun.”

“Or what?” he said.

“Or I’ll take you down like I did your friend.” Doug hobbled out, his gun pointed at the man’s head.

The man glared at Doug and then at me but didn’t lower his weapon.

“I said drop it,” Doug said.

The man’s radio crackled. “It was a false alarm,” a voice said. “No one is down here. Is everything okay up there?”

I charged to the man and pressed my gun to the back of his head. Then I grabbed the radio from his suit’s breast pocket and held it to his mouth. “Say that nothing is happening here.”

He glared and nodded. I took his gun and tossed it to the floor. Doug hobbled over to where we stood and picked up the gun.

“Say it now.” I pressed the center button on the radio.

The man still didn’t speak. Doug lifted the muzzle of the AN-94 and pressed it into the back of the man’s head. But then I remembered what Angela had done in 2043. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. I lowered my hand and shook my head at Doug. The man thrust his head toward the radio and screamed, “They’re here.”

I took my hand off the button and dropped the radio. Doug kicked him in the shin and he fell to his knees.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Doug said. He lifted the gun and pressed it against the man’s neck.

I saw the rage in Doug’s eyes.
He’s going to do it.
I grabbed Doug’s hand and nodded toward the wall. Doug looked at me and then stepped in front of the man. “I guess you get to live for a little while longer. Now get up.”

The man sniggered but didn’t move. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

Doug glanced at me and then smashed the muzzle of the gun against the man’s nose, drawing blood. The man screamed.

“I didn’t break your nose,” Doug said, “but I will if you don’t do as I say. And after that I’ll tape your mouth. Then I’d like to see how you’ll breathe.”

The man hissed and stood up. I moved aside and he walked to the wall and stopped.

Doug raised his gun toward his face again. “Open it.”

The man placed his hand on the same spot on the wall as the man before him had. The green light came on, traveling up and down over his palm. Then the wall lifted, revealing a set of curved stairs. Doug tossed me the flashlight and I shone it in. I couldn’t see past the stairs. The radio crackled some more. Doug grabbed it from me and threw it to the floor, smashing it. Then he smashed the butt of the gun against the man’s forehead, sending him to the floor, where he lay motionless. I helped Doug move the man beside his dead partner. Then I shone the torch up the entrance again and we ran up.

Chapter Forty-Five

W
e took slow steps up, stopping at the slightest noise. After a while, we couldn’t hear anything from below anymore. No more rushing feet or crackling radios. It was like we were in a different building altogether. We’d climbed four flights of stairs when we arrived at a long corridor with white walls and bright fluorescent lighting. It reminded me of the hallway in 2108 when I’d gone to collect Dylan. I kept expecting Michael to appear at any minute with a battalion, ready to take us in. Doug stood in front of me and edged out with his gun raised.

The same generator-type noise we’d heard at the Sacramento facility retuned, except louder this time. Doug walked left and I followed. A number of cameras on the ceiling flashed red.
They know we’re here.
We stopped in front of a sealed metallic door and studied it. It stood about twelve feet high and looked airtight.