Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3) (19 page)

BOOK: Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3)
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“Starling walked me through it over the phone on my way here.”

“Then my job is done. Good luck, General,” Shelby said, walking away.

A minute later, the general was halfway through the medical bay when his radio squawked. He answered it. “This is Alvarez.”

“We’re onsite, General,” said his unit commander, Thomas Church.

“Secure the perimeter and establish checkpoints at all access points. No one in or out. Shelby’s on his way to your position. He’ll provide a building layout and access cards.”

“Shelby Murphy?”

“Affirmative. I’ll send the rest of his security detail your way once we’re in position. Make sure they find their way offsite.”

“Ten-four.”

“Once your men are briefed and deployed, meet me in quarantine. It’s on level one, past the medical bay. Just follow the signs.”

“Copy that,” Church answered across the radio.

“Alvarez out.”

17

Masago checked the left side mirror of her brother’s F-250 truck to make sure no vehicles were next to her in the westbound lane of Speedway Boulevard. There weren’t. She flipped the turn signal on and angled the lumbering gas-guzzler to the left, expecting to turn at one of the next two traffic lights.

“You want me to take Campbell or Mountain?” she asked Lucas.

“Actually, turn right on Park Avenue.”

“But campus is a left,” she said, fidgeting with the new bracelet on her wrist. The itch from the homemade trinket was getting worse.

“We’re not going to campus.”

“Why?”

“Let’s park off campus and walk. We can’t be seen in this thing.”

“But it’s less conspicuous than the Tumbler.”

“Barely. I still don’t want to take any chances.”

“What about your leg? Can you walk that far?”

“It’s feeling better.”

“Did you flex it while I was gone?”

“Yep.”

“I figured as much. You can thank me now,” she said, scratching the skin under the bracelet.

Lucas didn’t answer. Instead, he stared straight ahead.

She hit him on the shoulder with a firm jab. “Come on, admit it. I was right. You needed to stop babying it.”

Lucas paused, then looked at her. “Yes, you were right. I was wrong. There, I said it. Happy?”

“I’ll bet that was painful.”

“You’ll never know.”

“You men are all alike. Heaven forbid the woman is right once in a while.”

“Didn’t you live with two men all your life? And you act surprised?”

“No, I should know better. You’re all just sweaty, sex-starved cavemen with a few table manners.”

“And math skills.”

She laughed, thinking of her brother. “For some, that’s a stretch.”

Lucas grinned, giving her a sly look. “I guess it all depends on the level of depletion in the family’s gene pool.”

She couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. “I’d settle for a man who’s not too stubborn to admit he was wrong, or read the directions first before trying to put something together. Is that too much to ask?”

“You’re asking the wrong person. But for what it’s worth, I never read the directions. I don’t see the point. They’re usually written in Japanese first, then translated to German, then to Swahili, and finally to some form of English. By then, they’re impossible to follow.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Are you saying I’m predicable?”

“No, just that you fit the mold perfectly.”

“If you say so. But trust me, women are complicated, too. All those hormones and emotions getting in the way.”

Masago knew he was right, but she didn’t want to admit it. “Once, a long time ago, back when my mom still lived in Tucson, I overheard her telling one of the neighbor girls that the secret to a long and happy marriage was for the woman to get used to saying two simple words.”

“Which two?”

“Yes, dear.”

Lucas laughed. “Is that the same mom who ran off with the bailiff? I guess it wasn’t so simple, now was it?”

“You have a point there. We’re all a little more complicated than we’d like to admit.”

“We’re all a little more nuts would be more accurate. The fact that any two people get along for more than five minutes on this planet is a miracle, as far as I’m concerned. We’re genetically predisposed to antagonize and compete with each other. Nothing is supposed to be easy.”

“I never thought of it that way. You may be right,” she said.

Lucas pointed at her new bracelet. “That’s cool.”

She smiled. “Rocket made it. He gave it to me before I left his compound.”

“It looks like woven paracord.”

“Yes, Type III, 550-pound test, but it itches. I can’t seem to stop scratching.”

“Why paracord? It’s not meant to be worn.”

“It’s a prepper’s bracelet,” she said, holding her arm out for him to get a better look. “See, it has a compass built into it.”

He spun the bracelet around on her wrist with the compass facing his direction. “That’s pretty slick.”

“Inside is a bunch of survival gear: aluminum foil, snare wire, needle and thread, fishing line and hook, waterproof matches, and char cord. You can even loosen the paracord wrap and use it for rope or tie-downs. It’s fifteen feet long.”

“You’d never know all that was inside by looking at it. Impressive.”

“Rocket is a genius. Takes after Dad, I guess. Apparently that family gene skipped me.”

“We all have our skills. Mine seems to be making a total mess of things. Your brother didn’t happen to make you an extra one, did he?”

“No, just this one.”

“I suppose you didn’t mention anything about me.”

“No, I didn’t see the point. He’d just worry about me more than usual,” she said, glancing at Lucas. “He’s my protector.”

“Didn’t he want to know why you needed his truck?”

“He knows better than to ask.”

“Sibling dynamics. I know it well,” he said with a detached, fading tone to his voice.

She figured he was deep in thought, missing his family. She used a knee to control the steering wheel while unclipping the clasp on the bracelet. She tried to give it to Lucas, hoping the gesture might cheer him up.

He threw up his hands. “No, no, no. Rocket made it for you.”

“I can’t wear it. It’s giving me a rash. Besides, I want you to have it.”

Lucas hesitated, then took it from her hand. “Thanks.” He adjusted the fit and put it on his wrist. “It’s more comfortable than I expected. He should start making these and sell them on eBay. There’s an endless supply of preppers out there who think the fabric of society is on the verge of collapse. If it does, it could happen overnight. Maybe even tomorrow.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like my father.”

“He’s right. Tragedy often strikes at the most inopportune time. You never really know for sure, until it’s too late.”

“That’s why they call them preppers.”

Lucas held his wrist chest-high with the compass facing up. He moved his arm in several directions, checking the compass after each movement. “They’d snap these up in a heartbeat. He’d sell a gazillion of them.”

“Probably, but that would mean he’d have to own a computer and be on the grid. He’d never do that. Not with the NSA watching everything we do and say.”

“I understand, and frankly, I don’t blame him. I wish I’d lived off the grid and never got involved in science. Then I wouldn’t be in this situation. Neither would the planet. But either way, thank you for the gift. I’m sure it’ll come in handy.”

“I’m glad you like it. Maybe it’ll remind you of me. So you won’t forget me.”

“I’d never forget you. How could I?” Lucas said, pointing his index finger straight ahead. “See that street on the right? Take it. Then go two blocks north and hang another right. There’s an apartment complex on the corner. Pull in and park around back.”

“Okay, got it,” she answered, letting his words about not forgetting her warm her heart. The feelings swirling around inside of her were growing by the minute, making it difficult to keep her emotions in check. The heart wants what it wants, and living alone all those years had compounded the effect.

Two minutes later, Masago saw the apartment complex. It was on the corner, just as Lucas had described. However, both of the entrances to the parking lot were blocked with barricades, yellow safety tape, and construction dumpsters. There was a ten-foot-wide sign stuck into the ground on a pair of wooden posts with a large placard in between. It said, “Renovations By BTX Enterprises. Completion Date December 2013.”

“What the hell?” Lucas said.

“Looks like both entrances are closed,” she said, slowing the truck to park along the front sidewalk.

Lucas shook his head. “This isn’t right.”

“Not what you expected?”

“Not even close.”

“What is this place?”

“My apartment. This is where Drew and I lived. So did Dr. Kleezebee and our lab assistant, Trevor.”

“Not anymore. At least not for another year, by the looks of it. Who is BTX Enterprises?”

“It’s the professor’s real estate development company. They’re working on stuff all over the state. At least they used to be.”

“He must be loaded.”

“He does all right, though you’d never know it by the way he dresses. You should see the piece of crap he calls a car.”

“He sounds cheap.”

“Not cheap, exactly. Just selective in how and where he spends his money. He does everything with a specific purpose in mind.”

“And complicated.”

“Yeah, that’s one word you could use. A total pain in my ass would be another.”

“I’m sure it’ll be nice once he gets it all done.”

“Maybe. But this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. There were never any renovations. This place was a total dump. We should’ve been able to pull in back and park by the professor’s old Volvo. It’s always parked there.” Lucas sat back in the seat, resting his skull on the headrest. “I wonder what else has changed?”

“There’s no reason to worry about stuff we can’t control.”

“You don’t get it. The timeline keeps changing.”

“I get that, but it’s just an apartment complex. So you live somewhere else. What’s the big deal?”

“It
is
a big deal. My presence here has affected fundamental details.”

“There had to be some changes, right? So this isn’t totally unexpected.”

“No, but not to this extent. I’m starting to wonder if the timeline is fracturing more and more as we move forward through this time thread. I may be a threat to my own past. Everyone’s past.”

She put her hand on his thigh and squeezed gently. “Don’t worry, we’ll get through it, together.”

“Damn it! I never should’ve listened to them. I knew this was a bad idea. Mom. Drew. Trevor. Carrie—”

“It’ll be okay. We just need to figure out the next step.”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Lucas pounded the dashboard with his first in rapid succession.

She yanked her hand back from his leg. “Lucas! Stop. Please stop. You’re scaring me.”

He punched the dash four more times, then stopped his assault with a fist throw in midmotion. He lowered his arm, unclenched his fist and grabbed the top of the dash above the glove compartment with both hands. His cheeks burned a deep red color and his chest was heaving as he leaned forward to lay his head against the now-dented thermoplastic.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,” he said over and over, each time with less volume than the last. Then he stopped talking altogether. He took a series of deep, slow breaths that spanned a full minute before he sat back in the seat. The redness in his cheeks had faded into a soft pink glow.

“Are you done now?” she asked him, driving her point home with a strong, placating tone. The entire scene reminded her of Rocket and his sudden tirades when things didn’t go his way.

Lucas spoke after releasing another deep inhale. “I’m sorry, but I just had to let that out. A guy can only take so much.”

“Still, that’s no reason to wreck my brother’s truck.”

“I’m sure it’ll pop out,” he said, rubbing the newly formed dent in the dash. “If not, tell your brother I’ll pay for it.”

“What about your hand?”

“It’s fine. I’m not worried about that. Trust me, we have bigger problems.”

“I do trust you, but you can’t just flip out when things go wrong. I need you to chill and explain this to me. Okay?”

He nodded, running his hands through his red hair. He looked at her with soft, watery eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sometimes, my temper gets the better of me. It’s something I’ve had to battle all my life—my inner demon.”

“We all have those.”

“Yeah, but still. There’s no excuse.”

“It’s already forgotten. Just don’t do it again or else I’m leaving.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “I promise, it won’t happen again.”

“Now explain it to me. Calmly, please.”

“You were correct earlier when you said some changes were to be expected. They were, but little things. Not important facts like Drew and me living in this complex. Several critical events took place here over the years that simply couldn’t have happened anywhere else, not without altering history in a major way. Since those events never happened, it means critical changes in the timeline have occurred. Fractures could be forming in the timeline ahead, and each could have a compounding effect on the next. I was planning on using my knowledge of what occurred the first time around so I knew exactly where and when to be. Now I don’t know anything.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, we may not have time to implement my plan to fix things. That’s assuming my plan is still valid. Something incredible was supposed to happen tonight.”

“Is that bad or good?”

“All depends on how you look at it. I’m pretty sure it has to happen in order for me to be standing here with you right now. So that tells me it does happen. The question is when. Now that things keep changing, the universe could have the event scheduled for ten minutes from now, sometime tomorrow, or next week.”

“What about never?”

“Never would be good, but I can’t see it working out that way. It rarely does. Not for me, anyway. It’s like some demented asshole wearing a hoodie is sitting at a desk in a secluded mountain cabin in northern Arizona, scripting out my life on a notepad, making sure nothing goes according to plan.”

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