Skyline (34 page)

All
the while, Bill cradled Monroe’s head. People were still stumbling past, crying
for loved ones, pulling others around the remains of George Washington and
toward the exit. With all of these people in danger, Bill had eyes only for
Monroe.

Charlotte
felt a familiar flutter, a familiar worry, but she couldn’t place it. Something
about Bill and Monroe. She shook it away, keeping focused on her brother.

He
had grown so strong on his own. And Bill had learned to let others do the
saving. Even Leanor had learned to regret far earlier than she once had.

What
about Charlotte? All this time, she’d been fighting for her family, to
reconnect. They’d all become so much better, and she was the same person she’d
always been.

Leanor
got the metal panel off and stared at the computer board below. Bit her lip in
concentration.

The
last few stragglers had passed minutes ago. No firemen came to find them as the
flames blazed closer, the smoke pressed downward. There wasn’t time to work on Monroe’s
cuff. “Leanor,” Charlotte said. They had to go, she had to get back to Charlie.
And Bill was too distracted by Monroe’s condition to realize how in danger they
were. Like it or not, this was who Charlotte was: a woman who wouldn’t let her
family die. “We gotta go.”

Leanor
shook her head, keeping her eyes on the computer board.

“The
fire,” Charlotte said at last. Even that didn’t rouse Bill or Leanor.

“I
don’t know,” Leanor said, looking into Charlotte’s eyes. “I’m sorry,
Charlotte.”

“We
can’t just leave him,” Bill said.

He
wouldn’t move until Monroe was safe. “Could we smash it?” Charlotte asked.
“Destroy the thing?”

Leanor’s
brow furrowed deeper. Whatever argument she had, it wasn’t good enough. There
wasn’t anything else to do, and Monroe’s body had stopped moving.

Charlotte
grabbed his wrist, gulped, and slammed the exposed guts of the cuff hard
against the floor. Monroe’s wrist broke with a sickening snap, but Charlotte
kept slamming the cuff into the marble. Again and again, until suddenly Monroe’s
body jumped as if taking one final jolt of electricity.

His
chest rose. His eyes flickered open. He gasped. “Holy …” And then he breathed
in and out. His eyes closed with relief.
“Ow.”

“C’mon!”
Charlotte said, gripping him and tugging him up. Bill heaved Monroe the
remaining distance into his arms, and Charlotte led the way back along the
marble walkway toward historic New York. The black smoke flickered orange as
the flames grew larger, consuming the exhibits around and behind them. They
were almost free.

At
last Charlotte burst through the metal frame, smoke pouring out on either side
of her. All around, ancient New Yorkers watched the building burn. Watched as
she came free. As Bill came, carrying Monroe in his arms. As Leanor followed.

They
were safe. Everyone. Her whole family intact. “Let’s go,” she said, shivering
despite the heat from the fire as it destroyed the Crystal Palace. “Let’s get
Charlie and Felix.”

Leanor
offered Charlotte the astrolabe that, once upon a time, they’d built together.
She felt everyone’s touch—Monroe’s hand, Bill’s shoulder, and Leanor’s gentle
fingers on her back. Charlotte twisted the lights, unable to keep her fingers
from shaking. Everything was good now. For now.

When
they appeared in the dark emptiness of Bryant Park, Charlotte’s heart leaped as
two shadows stepped into nearby lamplight. A man in a polo, a boy beside him.
Charlie and Felix.

Felix
squinted, then leaned down to Charlie and pointed in their direction. The boy
bolted across the stones, onto the grassy section of Bryant Park. “Mom!” His
little arms squeezed her knees. “You’re okay.”

“Of
course I am,” she said. “Your uncle was quite something.” She looked up to
Monroe, hoping to impress him with her gratitude. She’d never be able to thank
him enough for what he’d done. Not only had he retrieved her from a horrible
past, he’d made sure Charlie and Felix would be here, too.

But
Monroe didn’t return her look. He wasn’t smiling proudly. And though he nursed
his broken wrist, his focus was on Bill.

The
familiar queasiness returned, but she couldn’t ask; Felix joined his son,
placed a hand on her waist. She leaned in, kissed him, making this
her
timeline. No matter that this wasn’t the man she’d married. That she wasn’t the
woman he’d divorced. His lips tasted the same as they always did, but somehow
better.

The
kiss ended, and Felix pulled back, his hand lingering on her soot-stained
shirt. “Is everyone okay?”

“We’re
fine,” Charlotte said. “Though I had to break Monroe’s wrist.” But her brother
didn’t look over in forgiveness or anger. He still simply watched Bill. What
was she missing?

“The
Blast?” Felix asked.

“Stopped,”
Leanor replied.

Felix’s
mouth fell open as he turned to the woman he’d never met, but only heard of.

“Felix,”
Charlotte said, “Charlie, I’d like you to meet the woman who invented time
travel. Who had us stop the Blast. Leanor, meet Felix, my … husband. And
Charlie, our son.”

Felix
offered a hesitant hand.

While
Monroe watched Bill, Bill simply watched Felix shake Leanor’s hand. There was a
slight sad smile on Bill’s lips.
He
was the source of her queasiness.
Something about him and Monroe.

“’Roe?”
Charlotte asked. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

At
her words, Bill turned from Charlotte’s family. Took Monroe’s good hand. “I …”

“You’re
staying,” Monroe finished for him, shaking his head. “I know you’re staying.”

The
memory crashed through Charlotte. Monroe explaining history on Liberty Island,
wholly focused on Bill. The contentment on Bill’s face making it clear that he
no longer belonged in their world.

“What
happened when you left?” Monroe asked, his eyes boring into Bill’s. “Where did
you go? What did you see in that timeline? Why can’t you stay?”

Bill
slid an arm around Monroe’s back, squeezing him tightly. “I lived and died
there, Monroe. That Bill, he saved those lives. He was exactly who I’ve always
dreamed of being. And now maybe I can be someone else. Someone
different
,
Monroe.” A tear fell down his cheek.

Charlotte
tutted, unable to help herself. “You already
are
, Bill. I saw it in the
Crystal Palace. You’re already different.”

“You
can come home,” Monroe murmured. “You have a life with us. We’re family.”

Charlotte’s
heart swelled. The very same words had convinced her that Bill could come
along.

Bill
exhaled. Shook his head. “I have to go. You’ll see; you’ll be better off
without me. Without someone so judgmental, hypocritical, irritating.”

“No,
no,” Monroe’s voice was petulant, angry, and full of love. He squeezed Bill
hard. “I’ll never be better without you.”

“But
you were.” Bill pulled back. “You should’ve seen yourself there. We only saw
the tail end, but I saw how different you could be. You were incredible.”

“No.
No
.” Monroe gripped Bill’s shoulders. “I was better because I had you to
look forward to.”

Charlotte
gulped. There was an easy solution to all of this. Something these obtuse men
couldn’t see. “So?” She stepped toward them, setting her jaw. This had to be
done. “He wants to stay here? You want to be with him? Easy.” She tried to
blink away her tears. “Stay here
with
him.”

“Char,
I …” Monroe began.

“But
the Council …” Bill agreed.

Charlotte
rolled her eyes. “You two have something. You both make each other better.
Looking forward to the other, watching out for each other. Go, ’Roe. Go be
better together.”

Quiet
now, Monroe watched her. His mouth worked up and down slowly, his eyes
squinted, widened, blinked. He was making the decision that would take him
away. That would wreck the family she’d had for a single moment.

“No.”
Monroe stepped away from Bill. Toward Charlotte. “No, I’m staying in our time.”

Why?
Why would he leave Bill here? “Don’t do this for me,” Charlotte whispered. It
would be hard, but she could live without him. For a few great days, it had
felt like they were kids again. Connected. That feeling would last her a
lifetime.

Monroe
laughed, shaking his head as his eyes watered. “I’m not, Charlotte. I’m doing
this because I need to. For me. Bill had years to change, and me? Bill’s right.
I’ve barely begun.” He laughed sadly and cradled his right arm. The wrist
bulged, red and angry beneath the cuff. “Anyway, I prefer the doctors of our
time.”

With
a final step, Monroe stood beside Charlotte. Behind them, Felix, Charlie, and
Leanor looked on. A group of five against a single, obstinate man who’d made up
his mind.

Bill
drew himself up. “I know 9/11 is only two years away, but I won’t tell a soul.
I’ll get my team prepared, we’ll help, but I won’t tip my hand. They wouldn’t
understand.”

“No,”
Monroe said. “They wouldn’t. But you
can’t
.” He balled the hand on his
healthy arm into a fist. “You can’t go to the World Trade Center that day,
Bill. I know you; you’d give your life. Don’t you want to be someone
different?”

Bill’s
pale green eyes flicked away. Worrying he’d never change.

“You
can’t leave us,” Charlotte whispered. She couldn’t help herself.

Stepping
forward, Felix echoed, “You can’t leave
him
.” Charlie squeezed between
Felix and Charlotte, shaking his head.

“He
has
to,” Monroe said, an edge in his voice. Charlotte heard him
convincing himself as much as he was trying to convince them. “This is who he
is. It’s why I love him.” He turned back. “I love you, Bill.”

In
seconds, Bill crossed the distance, pulling Monroe into another hug. “I love
you too,” he said. “I really do.” And Bill kissed him. Monroe closed his eyes,
squeezing into Bill. This was their final moment as a couple.

When
the kiss ended, Monroe stepped back, and Charlotte handed Bill the astrolabe.
“One more trip,” she said. “To get you home. If you won’t change your mind.”

“From
here on,” Monroe said, biting his lip, “you’ll have to live every moment one at
a time.”

Bill
didn’t reply; he simply drew a C on Charlotte’s astrolabe. The stars
illuminated the darkened park. Bill carefully twisted the stars forward,
choosing the time when he’d return to his position on the bomb squad. February
4, 2000. Monroe, Charlotte, Felix, Leanor, and Charlie stepped forward, placing
their hands on him. A final touch for a final trip. When they were connected,
Bill released.

The
air became chill. Summer faded into winter. The sun came up above the trees and
slowed, casting shadows across the grassy park, white with frost.

“Thank,
you,” Bill said, offering the orb back to Charlotte. “Thank you for
everything.” He gave Monroe one final peck. “Thank you,” he whispered to
Monroe, and strode away.

His
shadow lingered beside them.

•
• • • • • • • • • • •

Before
Monroe asked for it, Charlotte spun time forward
twenty-three more years. Back to their changed timeline.

The
wintery Bryant Park vanished, melting into a green lawn before icing over once
more. The sun strobed above, as it had only a week ago, when Charlotte showed
Monroe what the astrolabe did. Time sped forward, and when April 8, 2016 went
by, there was no blinding flash. Instead, the Council’s enormous black tower
blinked into existence. Time continued, but the black tower never seemed to
age. No ghostly figures sped by—as if every New Yorker were staying as far from
the tower as they could.

Time
slowed, and the sidewalk remained empty. Far above, the tower reached upward,
its pointed top almost piercing the clouds. The Council’s spire was now a part
of their time—2023.

“This
is what we did,” Monroe said. “This is what we saved.”

“No,”
Charlotte said. “There was more.”

There
were millions of lives. A thousand buildings. Whole histories left intact.
There was Bill, a man alive who should’ve died. And there was Charlie, a boy
who’d likely never been born.

But
now the Council was free in this time. Free to torture anyone, steal children,
and chase down …

Charlotte
turned to Leanor. “You have to go.” She hated having to say it. This was her
family, and they’d already lost one member. “The Council will come for you; you
know they will.”

Paris
had appeared before them so many times; the Council would come soon.

But
Leanor didn’t run. She tapped the glass astrolabe she’d once invented. “Put
that away,” she said. “Get it out of sight.”

Charlotte
stowed the astrolabe, slipping Bill’s bowling-ball bag over her shoulder. “Why
won’t you run?” she asked. Pleaded.

“I
can’t anymore,” Leanor said, facing the spire. Monroe had asked the Council to
get her to regret. But Leanor’s regret meant more than not starting the Blast.
It meant hating herself for ever ruining another city. It meant she had to do
more than stop herself. Charlotte saw it in her eyes, fixed on the Council’s
out-of-time tower, never moving. It meant she had to serve penance for what
she’d done and never done to New York City.

Charlotte
reached out to grip Leanor’s hand and saw Monroe take the other. Felix and
Charlie gripped her arm, her leg.

Alek,
Cora, and Paris popped into view in crisp suits and more sedate hair. Alek’s
was still white, his goatee and mustache matching. Paris had a crew cut now,
the slightest tuft of blue at the front. Cora’s hair was mostly black and
short, long strands of red sweeping out beside her ears.

“You
found
her,” Paris said, stepping forward and gripping Leanor’s hand. He
gave them his hungry smile. “Perfect.” Gone were the eyes that recognized them.
The sad smile he’d had when Cora told him some secret.

“Well
done,” Alek said breezily. “You’re released from our service.” He didn’t seem
to note the cuff on Monroe’s broken arm. If he did, he didn’t care. “Enjoy the
rest of your life.”

Before
Charlotte could ask what he meant, what service they’d been in that they were
released from, the Council vanished into thin air, taking Leanor with them.

The
question Charlotte had been about to ask didn’t matter. Who cared if, in this
timeline, the Council had somehow used them? What mattered wasn’t what was in
this world, but what she’d just lost.

Charlotte
closed her eyes, tears running down her cheeks. She stepped away from the
spire, leaning into Felix, gathering Charlie’s hand into hers. “I thought we
had her back. I thought we’d go home and life would be perfect.” She shook her
head, angry. “That was too much to expect, wasn’t it?”

Charlie
looked up at his mom, his deep brown eyes wide with love. “But you saved us,
Mom. Me and Dad’ll remember you. And Bill. He’s alive now. Safe.”

“That’s
right,” Monroe said quietly. “We saved everyone.”

Everyone
but Leanor.