Edge Walkers (26 page)

Overhead the lights flickered back on. Kerrou swore, low and harsh, and Carrie glanced at him. She knew what that had to mean. “You didn’t get it shut down, did you?”

He looked at her, his eyes wide and dark, his own panic etched on a face too pale and too taut, but he kept his voice steady. “We did. I’d swear we did. That level’s been sealed.”

She shook her head. They were all hip-deep and sinking. “How long, David. How long?”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Just lay down—”

“No. How long was I gone? Missing? How many days?”

“Days? It’s been ten hours since whatever the hell went wrong in your lab. Power’s out to most of the facility now, but that’s a different problem.”

Wetting her lips, she stared at him. Hours, not days. Time flowed at different rates in the different realities? Not a lot of use knowing that. The lights overhead brightened and faded again.

“Different? Like hell. What’s...?” she gestured to the chaos around them. She also grabbed his arm to steady herself. She had to hold her sides as pain danced over her ribs.

Kerrou balanced her with one hand and turned to look up at the flickering lights. “Started about an hour ago. Power surges, systems sorting, electrical burns. Critical systems—air, temp control—just went out. I’ve got people running diagnostics, but we can’t keep the elevators running, and the evac…”

“Isn’t going to help.” Bracing her feet wide, she let go of Kerrou. She yanked the IV from her arm—it stung like a bastard, and distracted from the itching, pull of the bandage on her chest. A dozen other aches twinged in her joints and dragged on her muscles.

“Where’s Gideon? Temple? Jakes?”

Pushing a hand through his hair, Kerrou left the strands disordered. It showed the thinning spots. He had stubble coming in dark and thick. He looked red-eyed exhausted and he sounded it as he said her name on an exhaled breath.

She shook her head. “Don’t tell me they’re dead.” She locked her back teeth and clenched a fist. She wouldn’t believe it. But the fear crawled up her spin in a cold shiver.

“No. No. But…Carrie, four men from Jakes’ team are still missing, and we...” He swallowed hard. “We found Dr. Thompson. Or what was left of him. And your tech, Stevenson, in your lab. I’ve seen…are we even going to find Dr. Chand?”

Mouth pressed tight, she shook her head. She kept her breaths shallow so her bruised ribs would stop screaming, but nothing eased the pounding at the back of her skull. She needed a painkiller—and a whole lot more. “I’m going to need your help.”

Kerrou stared at her, and she knew he was trying to come up with soothing words, something to get her back on that stretcher. She could see it in his eyes and in the worry tightening his mouth. She also knew she didn’t have time to explain everything—the flickering lights told their own story. There had to be Walkers here, and when they got done with draining power systems, they’d turn to the next best food source—to the people. She gestured to the lights, asked, “Have you talked to Gideon? To Jakes and Shoup?”

“Carrie—”

“No—do not try to placate me. Things are going to hell around here. If you don’t believe it, take another look at the marks on me. I didn’t get these playing hide-and-seek. Thompson didn’t…he didn’t die from an experiment gone wrong. And the others…we’re all headed that way if you don’t listen.”

Frowning, Kerrou licked his lips. They were already chapped and dry. He glanced at the confusion milling around them. A crew had gathered around the elevators at the end of the hall, and others bent over pried-open electronic locks panels. The men kept jumping back as current surged and sparked. Radios blared static and controlled shouts kept everyone else who could walk moving toward the stairs. Security teams stood ready at the stairwell, and Carrie kept looking at their guns and thinking about them turned loose in this facility when she still didn’t know where to find Gideon.

Kerrou turned back to her. He stepped closer and his voice dropped. “There’s no reason the power should have stayed on in your lab for the last ten hours. We cut the main circuit to that level right after it happened. We cut the circuit, but everything stayed operational. It doesn’t make sense and I’d swear, after you showed up, it was like lightning jumped out of the wall sockets, and...”

“Lightning?” She grabbed his arm. “Jagged balls of light? Did they get into anyone?”

“Into? You mean did they burn anyone?”

“That’s not what I mean.” She shook her head. Vertigo washed over her. Kerrou reached for her, but she waved him off, stood still, pain lancing through her like someone had a drill going into her chest. She wiped a hand over her eyes, kept seeing a brighter glare in her memories.

Lights? That explosion? Something else?

“Where’s Gideon?” she asked again. Worry for him wrapped around her stomach like a fist, kept wrapping tighter with every second.

The lights flickered again, went out. Flashlights popped back on around them. Next to her, Kerrou shifted and his flashlight came back to life in his hands. “God, we’re going to lose every cent of our funding.”

She couldn’t stop the harsh bark of a laugh. Kerrou frowned at her, but she put a hand to sore ribs and told him, “If that’s all we lose, I could live with that. So could you.”

In the glare of his flashlight, she saw his mouth thin. She knew he was thinking she’d been hit too hard in the head. It was more than possible—concussions weren’t the best at helping you think straight.

But memories were fitting back into place, along with the realization of what was nagging at her. She glanced at the light in Kerou’s hands and thought about the batteries—power that an Edge Walker would be drawn to. Turning from it, she glanced at the other stretchers. she didn’t see any familiar faces among the injured. Thank god. Fast beats of fear pounding through her, she had to ask, even though she feared she knew the answer, “David—where’s Zeigler?”

He pulled in a breath and let it out in a slow exhale as if he was trying to use it to hang onto himself. “We…we don’t know. We had him stabilized. He kept seizing..and then that damn lightning burst out...”

“And into him—they were waiting here for him.”

“Who was waiting? What are you talking about. These people?” He gestured again to the people on the stretchers. “A security team found them—most of them have electrical burns.”

Carrie pressed a hand over the gash on her chest. It had started to ache. She knew now that they hadn’t gotten Zeigler back home—they had never even had him safe and with them. But what had they brought home with them?

She could swear Zeigler wasn’t carrying Walkers. He hadn’t had light leaking out of him. But what else could Walkers do to someone? Had they left him a fried shell that they could manipulate—a…a walking zombie under their control?

They’d wanted him to come back here, and she was pretty certain it was so he could finish opening the door way. Some Walkers must have been waiting here, pushing power into her computers to keep the doorway open on this side. Now Zeigler was loose—and he was going to try and get the doorway open again so Walkers could come through from Temple’s world.

They needed to stop this, and for that she needed help.

She turned to Kerrou, pushed out the words with more force, “Tell me where to find Gideon.”

Kerrou gestured to the security teams striding past. “We should leave this to them—they’re the experts.”

“They have no idea. Will you at least cover for me?”

He dragged his hand into his hair again and turned away. But he turned back and took her arm. “Fine. Okay. And, no, I’m not letting you go into this alone. Hell, maybe I can at least keep them from shooting you.”

“David, I can’t—”

“Carrie, I saw Dr. Zeigler. I saw…saw what was left of Dr. Thompson. I know this…” He waved a hand. “This isn’t anything we understand. I’m not letting you do this on your own. And I’m not letting this facility go to complete hell. So, stop bitching and start explaining—what do we need to get this mess cleaned up?”

#

Jakes watched the lights overhead flicker. They’d been back a little over four hours if the clock he’d learned to carry in his head was working. Not much else was. He’d talked more in the past few hours than he had in years. He was still sitting at a table in a locked room, turning a half cup of coffee that had gone cold. He had no idea what anyone thought of his debrief—he’d be thinking loony bin if it’d been him on the other side of the table. And the itch between his shoulder blades told him this wasn’t over. Not if those lights flickering overhead meant anything.

He turned the cup a quarter to the right.

Was Brody back on her feet? And what about Gideon—did they have him and Temple locked up tight? He hadn’t seen Shoup, either, and he wondered if that was a good thing or bad, or maybe it just was and he ought to leave it alone. That other guy—the blind one they’d gotten home—had been carted out on a stretcher. He wasn’t sure if folks here believed him that the rest of his team were dead. They sure as shit didn’t want to hear anything more about Temple’s home town. Well, he’d either get orders soon enough, or they’d come back with another round of the same questions. Or maybe they’d just settle him in a straight-jacket and a nice white room.

God he was tired of this.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, over the prick of stubble on his cheeks and chin. He pressed a thumb and forefinger into the stickiness gathered in the corner of his eyes. This made back on the other side with targets to hit seem a pretty sweet deal. Goddamm, did he hate this kind of bullshit debrief. He turned his cup again.

And the lights flickered overhead.

Frowning, Jakes watched them, his shoulders tensing and his stomach jittery, and not just from too much stale coffee. The lights went out, stayed dark for a count of thirty and brightened again. Jakes got up and faced off in front of the door. He’d had it with waiting. He also had a table and the chair he’d been sitting on. The door was metal and locked. He might not get more than some dents in it, but he wasn’t sitting on his ass, waiting to die.

The lights dancing had to be from Walkers come through. What else could it be other than them sucking up the power, and he knew he’d been right to stay wound tight.

The lights flickered on again—emergency generators coming online, or maybe just Walkers too stuffed to eat more and taking a break. Jakes grabbed the chair, dragged it over to the door. He swung it up like a club, stepped into the swing to put his body weight behind it. Just like high school baseball all over again. The chair slammed into the door, rattled it on its hinges, fell with gravity and its weight dragging on his shoulders. Leaning on it, Jakes shook out his right arm, started to pick up the chair for another hit. Before he could, the door creaked open, and he was staring at Shoup.

With a glance at the chair, Shoup smiled and held out an M16. “Trade ya?”

Jakes grabbed the automatic weapon. He checked the magazine, an automatic gesture even though he knew Shoup wouldn’t be handing out empties. Stepping out with Shoup, he rolled his shoulders, tucked the gun in close. Jitters faded now that he had an objective. “Status?”

“Fucked. Not full up the ass. But close. Can’t find Temple.”

“Lemme guess—camera’s in his cell show a black jag opening up the ceiling to nothing? The guys leaning on him leaned a little too close?”

“Cameras are out. But his room was empty and the guy on guard was outside, babbling. So, yeah, I think the big guy may be back on the other side. He sure ain’t around as I can find.”

Jakes glanced at Shoup. “Question is—what’s on this side with us?”

“Trouble. Fuckin’ trouble.”

“What about Brody?”

Shoup shook his head. “Can’t find her. They’re trying to get the civvies out of the way, so she’s probably upstairs. Bastards have no clue. I sent the babbler outside Temple’s room to haul ass with ‘em and get the fuck out of the way.” Shoup stopped outside the emergency stairwell. “But I know where Brody’s guy is stashed—think you can make do with him for help?”

#

Gideon sat on the floor of the barren room they’d locked him into, cross-legged, his hands resting loose in his lap. They’d given him water when he’d asked. They kept asking him questions. And they wouldn’t answer anything—not about Carrie and where she was, not about Temple, and not about what they thought they were doing. Dammit, he should have stayed behind—that’s what he’d planned. He shouldn’t be here. Not with Jill still out there.

Not when he could feel the pull back to Temple’s world.

The Rift had started to tear open once already, when someone on this side had touched him. They hadn’t known what was going on, had backed off, weapons drawn, panic on their faces, and for ten seconds he wondered if they’d shoot him. They’d thought he was opening the Rift intentionally, and it had taken him five minutes of talking non-stop to avoid disaster, and for the Rift to slip closed again. That was probably what had saved him. Afterwards, they’d thrown him in here and now no one was coming near.

But he could still feel that pull, that tension strung tight in him. It was only a matter of time until the Rift opened for him again. And he wasn’t willing to bet what might come through—or if he’d still be here afterwards. A shudder rippled through him—and he thought of the brief flashes of images he’d had from Temple.

Temple had crossed back already—Gideon knew it, he’d had a mental farewell of sort from Temple.

He wasn’t sure if Temple had survived.

How many crossings could you make, with the Rift tearing you think? The last one had left him pain-wracked, feeling as if his guts had been torn out, danced on, and shoved back inside. He shifted a shoulder and winced. He was pretty sure he’d pulled something that shouldn’t be pulled. The Edge Walkers seemed to handle it better, but they weren’t anything solid. And they were straining the barrier between realities. What were these other crossings doing to every world?

And where was Carrie?

She’d have answers, or theories, or mad ideas about what needed to be done. Was she out there, carrying out her ideas on her own?