Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3) (34 page)

BOOK: Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3)
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“What do you mean—intensifying?” Bruno asked.

“The list of changes is growing, like what we’re seeing now. The first time around, the energy domes didn’t appear right away. The Krellians used a slow rollout, spread over days. It’s almost like something is controlling the timeline now—speeding it up.”

“How is that possible?” Masago asked from the front seat.

“I’m not sure. But I get the feeling Father Time is trying to stay ahead of me,” Prime replied, wishing she’d keep her focus on her driving duties and not be distracted by the discussion in the backseat. He looked at Drew, hoping the timeline copy of his younger brother could add some insight to the discussion.

Drew only shook his head slowly.

“So, this all revolves around you?” Bruno asked.

“That’s what I was told.”

“By who?” Masago asked from the driver’s seat.

“Master Fuji. Your great-great-great . . . whatever. A little over four hundred years from now.”

Lucas two tapped Prime on the arm. “I think I remember reading a thesis that suggested time passes at different rates in each universe. Something about the flow of time is not a baseline constant. Could that have something to do with this?”

“Actually, it wasn’t a thesis,” Drew said to Lucas two. “It was a guest lecture Dr. Kleezebee gave last year in Phoenix at ASU. We tagged along with him so we could swing by and visit Mom afterward. We sat in on it together, remember? It was pouring rain during the drive up there.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. That was the day the fat chick in the front row totally lost her cookies. Vomit everywhere.”

Lucas Prime didn’t remember the lecture in his version of the timeline, and wasn’t sure if the missing lecture was a good thing or not. “As it turns out, Kleezebee is correct. Of course, since he’s actually from a different universe where time does proceed faster than here, he already knew his theory was correct.”

“A different universe?” Drew asked.

Prime shot a concerned look at Bruno. “Damn. I wasn’t supposed to disclose that, was I?”

Bruno turned to the brothers in the backseat. “Just forget you heard that, okay?”

Drew shrugged.

Lucas two rolled his eyes.

Prime continued. “One thing I’ve learned the past couple of years is that the future and the past are not set in stone, though they tend to end up exactly where they were intended, even if you attempt to make changes.”

“More circular logic?” Lucas two snapped. He threw his hands up and shot a hard glare at Bruno. “We gonna listen to this wacko?”

“Yes, we are. Now keep quiet unless you have something useful to add,” Bruno scolded, turning his eyes to Prime. “What’s the plan from here?”

“Same as before. We get to Rocket’s camp and out of harm’s way. Then I contact my people and have them send me back earlier to fix this.”

“What if more of those energy domes appear? Won’t we still be in danger?” Drew asked.

“If the pattern holds true, their initial focus will be on densely populated areas and military bases—high-value targets. I doubt Rocket’s compound will fit into that category. I’m pretty sure we have some time”—Prime said, swinging his focus to Lucas two—“as long as nothing happens to you. Otherwise, I cease to exist.”

“If you’re correct about the future and past being set on a collision course with a specific destiny, how will you be able to travel back and fix the timeline?” Lucas two asked. He turned to Bruno, not waiting for an answer. “See, something useful.”

Prime cleared his throat, making sure everyone was focused on him and listening. They were.

“I haven’t worked out all the details yet, but future Kleezebee and Master Fuji should have the answers. They usually do. Somehow, some way, we’re gonna stop all of this from happening once and for all. We just have to target the correct anchor point.”

Prime felt the truck climb an incline, then lean to the left as Masago navigated the dirt road. He gripped onto the seat back, keeping himself secure while looking a Drew in the back.

“Guys, we have a problem!” she yelled from the front seat, hitting the brakes hard.

Prime lurched forward, slamming his back into the dashboard. When he spun around in the seat, he instantly understood her concern.

The road was blocked by three flatbed trucks, two Jeeps, and a Dodge Ram pickup. Every vehicle was painted using desert beige camouflage colors. At least two dozen men stood with assault rifles pointed at Masago’s truck—each wearing tactical gear: helmets, goggles, boots, and chest rigs with ammo pouches.

“Back up, now!” Bruno shouted from the backseat.

Masago jammed the stick shift into reverse, then looked over her shoulder and out the back window.

“Looks like they have us surrounded,” she shot back, never stepping on the gas.

Prime whipped his head around. She was correct; four more vehicles had pulled in behind them.

The man in the middle of the roadblock ahead stepped forward, aiming his assault weapon at the F-250.

“Exit the vehicle with your hands up! I won’t ask again.”

“What do we do?” Drew asked.

“We get out with our hands up,” Lucas two answered.

“What about me?” Drew asked his brother. “My wheelchair’s in the back.”

“You’re gonna have to stay low until I can get it for you.”

“You can’t just leave me here!”

“I won’t. Just stay out of sight until we figure this out.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry, bro, it’ll all work out. Even these animals aren’t going to shoot a disabled kid.”

“You can’t know that,” Masago told him.

“I’ll carry him,” Bruno said, patting Drew on the back. “Right, little chief?”

Drew nodded with a petrified look on his face.

Prime looked at Bruno. “These guys don’t look military.”

Bruno shook his head. “Not with those vehicles. Looks like militia to me. With all that’s happening in town right now, you can bet the area is crawling with them.”

“You recognize any of them, Masago?”

“Why you asking me?”

“I thought they might be friends of yours or your brother.”

“Never seen them before in my life.”

The armed leader fired a single round from his rifle into the air. “That was my last warning. You have ten seconds to surrender, then we open fire.”

Everyone in the truck stepped out except Drew, who was being carried Bruno’s arms.

“I said, hands up!” the leader screamed. “That means everyone!”

Drew put his hands up, but Bruno couldn’t. Not with his hands full.

“Drop the boy, now!”

“He’s disabled and can’t walk on his own,” Bruno told him. “His wheelchair is in the back of the truck.”

“Secure them,” the leader commanded his men. “Then search for weapons and ammo.”

Six men moved closer, taking positions in groups of three on each side of the truck. They pushed and shoved Bruno, Prime, and the rest into a tight circle ten feet in front of Masago’s truck.

Bruno bent down and put Drew on the ground. He repositioned himself and stood in front of the group, puffing his chest out. He didn’t take his eyes off the leader. “What do you want?”

The leader ran his eyes up and down the guard’s body, focusing the longest on Bruno’s duty belt and equipment. “I hate cops.”

“I’m campus security.”

“Even worse. A rent-a-cop.”

“I demand to know why you stopped us.”

“You’re in no position to demand anything,” the man said, stepping back and turning his head to the southeast.

Prime looked in the same direction. A moment later, he heard a faint noise that was growing louder. It was the distinctive, heaving, chopping sound of military helicopters. Obviously, they were not in whisper mode like on the mountaintop when he’d first arrived.

“Incoming!” one of the armed men screamed, grabbing a cohort by the arm and tugging him toward a flatbed truck.

“Spread out!” another one yelled, sprinting to a defensive position behind the closest Jeep.

Bruno turned to the group and whispered, “Get low. When I signal, everyone crawl behind Masago’s truck. Understand?”

Prime nodded. So did Masago and the Ramsay brothers.

“Alvarez?” Masago asked Prime in a soft voice.

“That’d be my guess. I’m sure the energy fields in town have activated all civil and military defenses by now. You can bet the air force and National Guard are on high alert.”

“Why focus on us?” she asked, as more of the men standing watch scrambled away.

“Who’s to say that’s what they’re doing? Could be on their way to somewhere else. Probably fly right past us.”

The sound of the rotors continued to chop louder, making Prime rethink his last statement. He looked in the direction of the noise, waiting to see if the helos would appear overhead or fly past in the vicinity. But he saw nothing, realizing it’s impossible to judge distance and destination from only the echoing, thundering sound of the choppers approaching.

As soon as the last armed captor stepped away to hide behind one of the vehicles, Bruno turned and gave the group a follow-me wave. Everyone crawled behind Bruno, inching their way around the back end of the truck.

Bruno was first to arrive next to the driver’s door, then Drew, Masago, Lucas two, and finally Prime. They huddled together like a bush family trying to generate body heat during winter in Alaska.

“Now what?” Masago asked Prime in a whisper.

Before Prime could respond, he heard a high-pitched buzzing sound whipping about his head. He swung his hand at the noise, trying to shoo the insect away or kill it. He didn’t care which. However, the noise continued. First, it annoyed one side of his head, then moved to the other side. Finally, it moved in front of him and held its position six inches in front of his face. It was staring at him with its tiny wings fluttering.

Prime raised his hand to swat the insect, but Masago stopped him, grabbing his arm and pulling it down.

“No, don’t! That’s my brother.”

“What? Are you nuts?”

“It’s his micro-drone. Look at it. See the tech?”

Prime leaned in for a closer look. “Oh, yeah. Amazing. A mosquito-cam. I’ve heard about micro-drones, but never saw one up close.”

“Rocket must be here somewhere,” she said as a massive grin took over her lips.

“I hope he brought help. We’re gonna need it!” Prime yelled at her just as the helicopters arrived, the sound of their engines and rotors now at an almost deafening level.

Bruno took a peek through the truck’s window. “Apaches. Six of them.”

“Armament?” Prime asked him.

Bruno nodded. “Hellfires.”

Prime inched up and peered through the glass. The aircrafts were hovering above a rise several hundred yards to the south.

“What are they waiting for?” he asked Bruno.

“Provocation.”

Right on cue, the gang of road-blockers fired their automatic weapons at the choppers. A moment later, the war birds opened fire with their 30 mm chain guns, tearing apart one of the flatbed trucks and both Jeeps.

“We can’t stay here!” Prime yelled at Bruno, seeing the insurgents getting pummeled from above.

“Over there,” Bruno said, pointing at a ravine about fifty feet from the road. He picked Drew up in his arms and ran toward the depression. Lucas two followed close behind, bending over at the waist and keeping his head down as his legs pounded the desert landscape.

“Your turn,” Masago told Prime.

“No, ladies first,” he told her. “Go! Now!”

She kissed him hard on the lips, then took off. So did the tiny drone, buzzing its wings behind her.

He watched her run for a two-count, but then the F-250’s bed and cab took fire from the thundering chain guns as metal ripped and glass exploded. He ducked his head and pressed his body closer to the ground, hearing round after round hitting the vehicle, sending chunks of the truck into the air like shrapnel.

Prime began his sprint using a two-handed, two-legged modified dog crawl, pushing his limbs as fast as they would go. He expected to feel the searing pain of a supersonic projectile tearing off a hunk of his body, but it never came. Somehow, he made it through the hailstorm of death, reaching the rest of his crew safely.

He dove headfirst into the ravine, landing in the dirt next to Masago, who was lying on her back. Bruno was to his right and the Ramsay brothers were on the other side of him. Prime couldn’t hear the micro-drone. It must have flown off or taken damage in the escape.

Prime righted himself but felt a sticky wetness on his hands. He looked down and saw that they were covered in blood. He panicked, checking every inch of his legs, chest, arms, and head. He let out the breath he was holding in his lungs when he realized the blood wasn’t his.

He looked up and locked eyes with Bruno. A dread-filled chill covered his skin when Prime realized Bruno’s face was covered in tears.

His rotund friend had his hands together, pressing down on Drew’s chest. The boy had been hit and was coughing up blood.

Lucas two was sitting in a ball with his back against the inside edge of the wash. His hands were wrapped around his face, wearing an intense look of shock.

“No! No! No!” Prime screamed.

33

Masago grabbed Prime by the shirt collar and shook him hard, hoping to snap him out of his emotional shock. It seemed to work. He was no longer staring at Drew’s bloody chest. She pointed at the Smart Skin Suit hidden underneath his clothes and waited until his teary eyes connected with hers. They finally did a few seconds later.

She spoke in her most serious tone, making sure he heard every word, clearly. “You need to go back in time, now! You can’t wait any longer, Lucas. We’re not going to be able to get someplace safe and plan this out. You have to fix this, now. Right now. Drew’s losing a lot of blood and those helicopters are probably going to kill us all. Call your friends and get this done.”

He nodded, then looked down and ran his hands over his body. He looked up at her, his eyes bulging in panic. “The glasses! They’re still in the truck.”

“Where?” she asked him.

“On the floorboard, in front of my seat. I put them down when we ran into the roadblock.”

“Get out of your street clothes, now. I’ll be back in a flash,” she told him before climbing out of the gully and sprinting toward what remained of Rocket’s beautiful truck. The back half of the F-250 was now a pile of twisted metal and the rear tires had been blown off. The top of the cab was missing, making it a shredded convertible. However, the seats and dashboard looked to be somewhat intact. She pushed her legs faster and harder, hoping to complete her task before the helicopters turned their guns away from the firefight with the insurgents and took another run at killing her and her friends.

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