Edge Walkers (22 page)

He watched her, fell back to give her the lead. He trailed behind where he could keep an eye out for Walkers. Carrie stopped every now and then, glanced around. He knew she still must be dealing with memories not quite her own. Most of what she’d gained from the rings would fade. Some would integrate into her own experiences—in a few hours, she wouldn’t know which images were her own and what came from the rings. It had been like that for him. When a rock skittered loose, he called out a halt to her. And once the wind—crying through empty buildings—shifted to carry the warning rot of dead meat that meant Walkers on the move.

They skirted the city center, kept to shadows that lengthened under the dark pewter clouds. Gideon hoped like hell the Walkers did follow them, and were moving away from Temple’s people. If they didn’t…well, Carrie’s idea, whatever it was, had better work.

And he’d better find out about that.

Catching her tunic, he tugged, stopped her. He gestured for her to follow him into the ruins of a small structure that still had windows and most of its roof. They climbed over fallen stones and Gideon found a place where you could watch the street below, with two exits—up and into the next building or down into a narrow alley. Rain pattered down harder now and had started to carve rivulets into the street.

Carrie pulled out the laptop and Shoup’s Swiss Army Knife and started to open the case. Hunkering down next to her, he asked, “Just what makes you think you can close the Rift? Really close it? And stuff the Walkers back into it?”

Glancing up, she met his stare, her eyes darkened by wide black pupils. She bent over the laptop again, started unthreading screws. “It’s complicated. And theoretical.”

“Meaning you don’t really know?”

She lifted the back off the laptop, sat staring at wires and circuits and he wondered what she saw there. Did she know the names of each part, did she see patterns that eluded him?

Closing one blade and pulling out another, she started to poke into the guts of the laptop. She pulled out a larger part, held it in her palm. “Power’s fried.” Looking up, she pushed the battery at him. “I keep thinking about why the two of us can open a Rift that works both ways, but the doorway in my lab seems to be one way. There’s got to be a reason for that—maybe something on this side is stopping it.

“And I keep thinking about how current will flow, taking the path of highest conductivity. But, if you push enough current through something that doesn’t have the capacity to carry it, you can short the connection—instead of punching a lot of small holes like the Walkers do, we need one big one. With luck, it’ll implode—it’ll seal the holes in the Rift.”

“Luck? Haven’t had much so far.” He took the power supply from her. Gray, flat, it didn’t look like much. But he could see scorch marks on one end. He looked up from it and at Carrie, and he knew he wasn’t going to like her next answer, but he had to ask anyway. “How sure are you that this big hole of yours won’t rip everything apart in a big way?”

She hunched a shoulder. “There’s always a chance for things to go wrong. For mistakes. Which is why I keep trying to come up with a plan B. So far, we’re a little limited with choices.”

He couldn’t help it. His mouth quirked. “A slow end with the Walkers or maybe you give us a fast one instead?”

She glanced at the laptop, took back the power supply. “I don’t have any certainties. I’d feel better if I could run the calculations outside my head. I’d even sacrifice this doorstop for a slide rule.” She looked up again, put her elbows on her thighs. “You know words—someone…a friend once told me I should look up the real definition of that word.”

“What one—sacrifice? Why? Are you thinking of making one?”

“No. No. I…I’m not sure I believe giving up something important ever gets you anything better. I wouldn’t do it with my work and…well, I’ve never given up on anything.”

Gideon shifted, pushed at a rock with his foot. “That’s what it’s come to mean—giving up something to get something. But the roots…it comes from Latin.
Sacer
, or
sacri
…holy. And
facere
—to do. It once was about making actions into sacred rites. We changed the meaning, made it about a bargain—offer blood to appease the gods, or try and make a deal somehow with the deity of your faith.” He glanced at her and smiled. “Baseball didn’t help the change in definitions with sacrifice hits.”

“So my belief system is informed by religion…and baseball?”

“To some folks, they are the same.” He smoothed a hand over the laptop she held. “I’d have liked taking you to a Giants game.”

Throat closing tight, Carrie sat straighter. Her lips parted as if she meant to say something and regret darkened her eyes. Before she could speak, the scrabble of rocks from outside froze Gideon. Holding up a hand, he rose, crept back to the gaping doorway. The rain had eased, drizzled onto puddles left behind. Thunder rumbled, distant and low. He held still, listening.

There were still a few burrowing animals who had survived and Gideon hoped like hell that sound had been one of them and not a Walker. Stepping out, he put his face into the wind, caught the scent of nothing more than damp air. But if the Walkers were downwind, he wouldn’t smell them until it was too late.

Going back to Carrie, he gestured for her to rise. “We should keep moving.”

She nodded, fit the back to the laptop again, twisted in two screws to hold it in place. Rising, she looked at him. “Temple’s lab?”

He knew what she was asking—he could guess the request she’d hidden in those simple words.
Will you help? Will you get me there?
He was pretty sure that’s what she needed from him—protection. Someone to hang onto her while she balanced the universe on the edge of oblivion and maybe dragged it back from that edge. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to tell Jakes about this—it went about a hundred miles beyond Jakes’ orders. It went even further beyond anything sensible.

“What’s the rest of it?” he asked. “What haven’t you told me?”

She straightened the strap to the laptop bag, held it with both hands. “The door from my lab—we had a power spike when it opened. I told you about that. That has to be the problem. Or that’s part of my theory, too. I think too much power is pushing through from the other side to here. It’s like a fire hose that’s turned on—the power keeps pushing through to here, but won’t let us cross back. But I think…I have Temple’s memories, and I think that the device he set up and tried to use to rid this world of Walkers, I think it’s a dampening field. That image came through, and I think I can use it to make the doorway to my lab work both ways. Once we’re back…well, I have equipment on that side. And we’ll have help.”

Gideon shook his head. “Sounds like even more theory.”

Carrie’s smile twisted. “More like guesswork. But you said it yourself—something drives the Walkers out of this area twice a day. I think it’s a burst from Temple’s last device. I saw...well, you know what I saw in the rings.”

He did. He’d seen Temple’s memories of that as well. He had forgotten half of them, but he had not forgotten the price of Temple’s last effort to save his world. Ten had died, four of them taken by Edge Walkers.

Frowning, Gideon started for the doorway. He stopped, glanced out at the empty street, and looked back at Carrie. “You’re going to take it apart, aren’t you? Temple’s device.”

She hefted the laptop, stepped over the rubble to his side and leaned past him to glance down the street. “To be honest, I won’t know until I get in and we find out what other memories those rings put in my head.”

“They fade.”

Jerking straight, eyes wide, she stared at him. “What?”

“The memories. They’ll last a few hours. Only a few will stay with you for any longer—and there’s no way to tell which ones stay and which go.”

“Crap. We really do have to move. Come on.”

He grabbed her wrist before she could get out the door. He wasn’t letting Carrie head into anything on her own. “Slow. Quiet. We bring Walkers on us, memories won’t matter.”

Nodding, she let him ease out the door first. He checked the streets, picked a direction that seemed quiet. He led now, darted between buildings, avoided even the hint of a sound. The skin between his shoulder blades twitched and the hair lifted on the backs of his arms with static charge. Walkers were near.

At the next street corner, he glanced behind them, leaned close to Carrie and whispered, “They’re coming.”

Carrie nodded. She glanced at him, the lines on her forehead tight. He saw the same knowing reflected in her eyes—the fact that Walkers were near was good news and bad. Good to know where the Walkers were at last. But like Jakes had said, not much fun being the prey on this hunt.

Gideon hurried forward. He heard Carrie’s breath ragged and rasping behind him. They dodged down empty streets, their boots too loud on the wet, paved streets. He stopped before the gaping doorways to the tallest tower—Temple’s lab.

Carrie followed him inside.

He stopped to give her eyes time to adjust to the gloom. He no longer seemed to need that. Taking her hand, he led her to the back and to the stairs. He knew where he was going. He’d been here once before, and he still had his own bits of Temple’s memories. He could only be thankful the bodies were gone by now. Dust and shadows covered the bloodstains from those who had died here. But, in his mind, he could still see the spattered walks, the drained, shredded corpses. In case scattered bones remained, he stepped carefully over any obstacle.

They went down, not up, two flights, and the weight of earth and building closed overhead in a way it hadn’t in the crystal caverns. At last they stepped into an open room. And Carrie pulled off the messenger bag and looked around at Temple’s lab.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Just what kind of technology did you use to get here? [silence] What were your intentions coming here with explosive devices? [silence] You do know this will go easier on you if you cooperate. [silence…unintelligible word] Shut it down, Sergeant. Time to let the Homeland boys deal with this towelhead and see if they can get anything out of him. — Transcript of Interview with Person Known as “Temple”

The walls glowed softly and Carrie tried not to think about the dried bloodstains she’d glimpsed on the stairs. She pulled in a breath and let it out—one thing at a time. She put a hand to the cool stone walls and thought of the chemical phosphorescence she’d seen in the caverns—the walls here had that same faint eerie green glow. A similar, stronger light lit the single pedestal in the center of the room, and an opaque carved cylinder as long as her forearm rose up from the dark metallic base. She went to it and searched her memories, her fist tight on the strap of the bag. Nothing surfaced—no so much as a single image. Gideon prowled the edges of the room, his footsteps a soft echo.

Jerking a thumb to a point back over his shoulder, he said, his voice reverberating from the hard walls, “There’s a collapsed tunnel back there. I’m not sure it’s safe so we’ll head back the way we came in.” He finished his circuit of the room, turned and faced her, and put into words the same thing she was thinking. “Are you sure about this?”

She wanted to shrug and say something flippant, or nod and offer up firm certainty. Instead, she glanced at his face and gave up her own thin pretense. “Seems like there’s only one way to test a theory around here. And that’s by putting it into action.”

Lowering the laptop to the floor, she put her palm on the crystal mounted in the pedestal. Warmth tingled on her skin and that had to be a good thing—had to indicate a power source of some kind was still operating. Right now, given the walls, she’d bet on minerals being used to generate a chemical charge here, too. But why hadn’t the Edge Walkers drained this? Was that due to the power cycling on and off? Or the type of power? And how was this putting out a dampening field without killing its own power? She had too many questions—well, she had one way to find out.

Pulling out the Swiss Army knife, she leaned in, stopped and held still.

Already the memories had become distant as dreams, fading and chopping up into indistinct flashes. Drawing her hand back, she tightened her grip on the knife, which lay cool in her sweat dampened palm. What could she safely touch? What did she need to touch?

Behind her, Gideon muttered, his voice low and fierce, “Hurry.”

Pulse kicking hard, she knew what his tone meant. Walkers coming. She could hear the static as well. It lifted the hair on the back of her arms. She muttered a curse and wiped her palm down her leg.

Remember, dammit.

One memory teased, a quick flash of an image. Folding up the knife, she put it away. She settled both hands on the cylinder. She twisted, tried each direction. Nothing. She was missing something. Leaning down, memory flashed stronger—there, that slim plate on the side. Heart pounding, she knelt and pulled out the screwdriver blades on the Swiss Army knife.

The slimmest edge fit into the seam. The panel gave a hiss and slid open. She heard Gideon’s step, felt the warmth of him on her back.

“Think of Temple—he’s your way into the memories,” he said. She glanced at him and he gestured to the pedestal as if offering it up to her. He flashed a quick, humorless smile. “Don’t know if it makes it worse or better that I knew what I was putting you through.”

He meant the memories, and she knew what else he meant, which was pretty much everything that she’d had to go through since crossing to this world.

“Better,” she said. “Sharing Temple’s memories…that wasn’t easy on anyone, but…I…I appreciate the trust.”
Oh, that’s a great way to say you care.
“I…” she tried to get the rest of the thoughts out, but her throat tightened. This wasn’t the place, and they didn’t have time. “It’s not bad to have back-up. You know—on the memories.”

“Yeah, well I never knew what to do with them. I’m glad you do.” Gideon turned, strode to the doorway, and glanced up the barren stairs.

His movement stirred another flash of memory for Carrie. It rose like a mirage. She put her thoughts on Temple and her stare on the device. The memory surged back and she knew suddenly how it functioned. It didn’t emit power, it absorbed charge, soaked up current like a sponge with water, and bled the energy back into the ground—back into the earth current of this world. That’s why it was warm, that’s why the Walkers didn’t try to feed from it. This thing drank power better than they could.