Skyline (8 page)

Not
much had changed, but she was proud of the very little she’d done.

“I
still can’t believe Ana’s the bomber,” Monroe whispered. “I could’ve sworn she
was on our side. I guess she changed her mind.”

His
eyes glued to Manhattan’s skyline—still marred by a thick cut—Bill said, “Who
wouldn’t change their mind after this?”

“Well,
c’mon,” Monroe said. “We know what to do now! All we have to do is pick a new
endpoint, figure out the historical time, and catch Ana setting another bomb!
Easy as pie.” He pushed through the doors, gesturing to the empty boat.
Outside, he grabbed Charlotte’s hand. “You did awesome, sis. Maybe next time,
since we know there’s an explosion at the end, we’ll be okay. We can defuse the
first two parts—whatever they’re supposed to do—and then run. Right?”

“Sure,”
Charlotte agreed. But she doubted the next bombs would be as easy. Knowing that
people were coming to stop her, Ana wouldn’t likely keep things the same.

As
they made their way amid the tables, she heard a voice call, “Charlotte?”

She
turned, looking around, and saw Charlie and Felix at a table, a couple empty
plates before them. This time, Felix was meeting Charlotte’s eyes, one eyebrow
lifted. Beside him, Charlie’s tan face was wide open with delight, but
Charlotte could see fifteen ticks on his drawing.

“We’ve
been waiting for you to show up,” Felix said.

“I,
uh …” Charlotte glanced at Monroe, before asking Felix, “You have?”

More
must’ve changed in this world than just a single building. Perhaps they’d told
Felix and Charlie to meet them here. That they were investigating the Blast or
… She had no idea. Maybe she’d never fought with Felix. Fiddling with her ring,
Charlotte said, “Sorry, I don’t really—”

Felix
sighed, his wide shoulders dropping. “Remember? You told me to drop off Charlie
here tonight. We made a date of it, but I don’t understand—” He spotted the ring
on Charlotte’s finger. “Why are you wearing that?”

Dropping
her hand from her ring, Charlotte checked Felix’s left hand. There was no gleam
of silver on any of his dark fingers. “Why aren’t—Oh, oh, God.”

She
should’ve expected this.

They’d
just snatched a thousand people from death. They’d changed time, rewritten
history. Of course there would be consequences. She just didn’t expect the
consequences would target
her
. “Oh God,
’Roe
.” Charlotte
staggered back against a chair, her breath racked in sudden sobs.

“Charlotte?”
Felix asked.

“Mommy?”
Her little boy stood up, one of his small hands on her leg to steady her. “Are
you okay?”

She
stared at her ring, not daring to look at her son or her husband.

Her
ex-husband.

Why
hadn’t she just
told
Felix?

All
year they’d had a feasible prototype, but Charlotte had waited until the final
product. And then she’d invited Monroe first, fought with Felix, and let him
storm away. Like she didn’t have all the time in the world to fix it. What was
one trip, one little trip, before they witnessed Leanor’s death?

Now
that fight had been replaced with something far worse.

“’Roe,
please.” Charlotte gasped, falling into the chair she’d been using to prop
herself up. She could barely see; her eyes filled with water. How could she
ever fix her relationship with Felix
now
?
“Please,”
she begged
her brother. She needed him now, more than ever. She needed him to be
strong.  Because for all her muscles, she couldn’t be.

“Thanks,
Felix,” she heard Monroe say. Through her blurry vision, he took Charlie’s
hand, and Bill grabbed the boy’s blue-and-red backpack from where it sat on the
ground. Together, the two men crossed closer to her, and she felt Charlie run
his fingers through her hair gently, rubbing the bristles of the part that had
been buzzed a few days ago.

“Sorry
we were late,” Monroe continued, as if tears weren’t streaming down Charlotte’s
face. “Charlotte, uh, will explain everything later.”

“Why
can’t she explain now?” Felix asked, his voice gruff but confused.

Charlotte’s
vision cleared, and she saw Felix in the lights of this outdoor tourist bar.
His thick arms folded over his light polo, making his muscles press outward.
His face seemed even more angular than usual with his lips pulled down, his
nostrils flared.

“I
… We …” She hadn’t been able to figure out how to explain time travel to him
before. There was no way she could explain anything now. Certainly not all that
had happened since the last time she saw him. Leanor dying before their eyes.
Charlotte transformed from a technician into a poor defuser of bombs. Felix
becoming her ex without any divorce. “I’m sorry,” she said.

There
was no explanation to offer.

As
tears ran down her cheeks, Felix pushed himself from his seat. His fury
dissipated, replaced by a man she recognized. Eyebrows pinched in concern,
mouth turned downward. The man he was when Charlie scraped his knee. The man
he’d been before she’d gotten the job with Leanor. He kneeled close to her, eyes
flicking away to Charlie, to her, to Charlie, and settling back on her. “What
happened?” He reached out to her shoulder. “Look, I know it hasn’t been easy
since … I know. But Charlie still loves you. You’ve got Monroe and Bill and,
well, I’m here too. Just not in the same way.”

She
shook her head. He was reaching out, and she couldn’t accept him. Yes, she was
upset because they’d broken up, but not because it’d happened years ago. She
slipped her ring off her finger, gulping as she did so.

“I
wore it to keep it safe,” she said. Not really a lie. “But here.” She held out
her hand, the jeweled ring so light in her palm, it was barely there. “I
brought this for you.”

Felix
shook his head. Folded her hand with his fingers to keep the ring inside her
palm. “No, I told you, Charlotte. I’m not taking it back, not pawning it. I
keep my ring; you keep yours, that’s the deal. We don’t pretend we were never
married, like we never loved each other, right?”

Her
eyes fell closed, relief coursing through her. Maybe she had a little time to
accept this new world.

“Look,
will you let me come with you?” he asked, his hand still on hers.

He’d
said something similar once.

Long
ago, she and Monroe were at one of the many Blast memorials that were being
held around the city. This one was for her fallen classmates, and Charlotte
found herself learning so much about her college best friend. That she’d been
working on a book, that she’d gotten a job at a prestigious design firm, that
she’d gotten two promotions in as many years. And as Charlotte’s best friend
was being remembered, there was someone else just as riveted, drinking in every
detail.

His
eyes met hers and after the memorial was over, he laid a hand on hers. “You
knew her, didn’t you?” Felix had asked Charlotte. “Would you mind if I came
with you?” He nodded to the exit, and that was that.

A
romance had been snatched from Felix, she learned, but he got her in return.

Was
it possible that their divorce had made things better? That they still shared
their link, instead of being pushed away by the astrolabe? What if, in this
world, she’d never let her work keep Charlie away? Maybe Charlie connected them
just as her best friend had.

God,
she’d give anything for that to be true.

“We
were just gonna go home,” she said. But maybe she could do something better.
Perhaps, with this Felix, she could do what she hadn’t before. Maybe this was
the time to take him and Charlie on a trip. To tell him everything.

Maybe
she could mend this relationship right now.

“Home?”
Bill asked. Charlotte opened her eyes to see him frowning. “But I thought, now
that we know …” He shrugged, looking from her down the length of this arm of
the Mid River. In the distance, out of sight, stood another endpoint to the
Blast. Bill was ready to disarm another bomb, even though they’d barely
survived the last.

Monroe
placed a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. The small gesture cut Charlotte
wide-open. Monroe’d been able to see history, Bill to live his science fiction
dreams. But her family was farther than they’d ever been. It wasn’t fair. “This
is bigger than us, Char,” Monroe said. “This is why you made the astrolabe,
right?” Just as ready as Bill to find the next bomb.

“’Roe,
I …” She glanced to Felix, to Charlie. Felix frowned, watching her carefully
with his dark eyes. This wasn’t the way to introduce them to time travel.
Villains, bombs? This wasn’t at all how tonight should have gone. “I can’t.”

“You
can, Char,” Monroe replied. In his happiness, he was so ready to move forward.
He reached a comforting hand to her shoulder, too, but it wasn’t really for
comfort. He wanted her moving. Why had she wanted Monroe to take charge,
anyway? He always challenged her, forced her to make the hard decisions. If it
had been
his
relationship in danger, he would never be so cavalier.

But
maybe this
was
a solution, of sorts. She watched Charlie, the boy’s
fuzzy black eyebrows low in concern. She’d wanted to take him through time, to
meet the Grandpa that he always asked about from her photo albums. But maybe
she could show Felix and Charlie time travel here. Find a way to keep them safe
in time as they defused a bomb.

Do
exactly what she should’ve done at the outset and include them.

“Okay,”
she said, her voice hoarse. “Okay, we can go.”

With
a nod, Monroe hefted the gangly little boy in his arms. “What d’you think,
Charlie? Want to take a trip down the Mid River? We were thinking of going to
Pier Fifty-four. From one Blast site to another.”

Charlie
didn’t answer. A single lip was pressed out, like he was about to cry. He
asked, “Mommy? Are you okay?”

Without
another word, Charlotte’s arms were around him, squeezing him between her and
Monroe. Only recently had the boy begun to look outside his own activities. His
watchful eyes suddenly turned outward with more than interest: with compassion.
She squatted down—a hand lingering on his tan face—to stare directly into his
dark eyes. “I’m great, Charlie. I’ve got you, don’t I? What d’you say?”
Charlotte stood, rubbing a hand through his dark curls, messing up his already
messy hair. “Want to hear your uncle tell us some history?”

He
frowned, a little hand reaching up to smudge the wetness on her face. “Okay. I
love you, Mommy.” He pulled away from Monroe and reached around her, tiny hands
embracing her tightly.

Felix
was right about that, at least. She had Charlie. “I love you too, baby. Why
don’t you, Monroe, and Bill have some uncle-nephew time, okay?”

“C’mon
bub,” Monroe said, bobbing Charlie in his arms. “Let’s give your mom some
space.” He lifted an eyebrow at Charlotte, and she nodded permission before he
and Bill walked along the boardwalk toward the pier on the shoreline.

Felix
watched them go. Even in this timeline, he was always making sure that Charlie
was safe.

“They’ll
be okay,” she told him.

“You
don’t owe me any explanation, Charlotte,” Felix said. She glanced his way and
saw that his fury had returned. Much more familiar to her these days. “But you
can’t do this to Charlie. Tell him you’ll be here and then—”

“I
won’t be late again,” Charlotte said. If she could, she’d never let Charlie out
of her sight. “But I did want you to come tonight, too. What’s going on is
important and …” She shook her head. “It’ll be easier if I show you.”

“At
Pier Fifty-four, you mean.” His tone was brisk, like he was expecting another
promise broken. She could show him now. Could easily heft the glassy grapefruit
in her bag and spin him through time. That’s what tonight should have been.

But
it was better to do this at Pier Fifty-four. Take Charlie, Monroe, Bill. There
she could deal with his questions, his—hopefully—awe, while Monroe and Bill
looked for Ana. That would be better. Smarter. “When we get to Pier
Fifty-four,” she confirmed.

With
a snort, Felix rolled his eyes. “See you then.” He strode away from her, easily
catching up to her family in the distance. But when he did, Bill cast back a
look of concern. As Monroe, Charlie, and Felix wandered toward the tour boat,
Bill waited.

“I’m
sorry,” he told her when she met up with him. “We shouldn’t push you. There’s
time. That’s what this is all about, right? We have plenty of time.”

He
gestured to a chair, but Charlotte shook her head. “How can you be so sure?”
she asked. “All the time, you’re confident. You know what’s right. But I’m …”
Charlotte shook her head, trying to hold herself together. Trying to keep the
tears in. She stared at her family as they bought tickets at the boat. “Is this
even worth it?”

He
paused, following her gaze toward the Mid River leading back into the city’s
lights. They’d almost killed themselves to save a single building. That was all
they’d changed, but so much more had rippled. Just as Bill had predicted with
his damned butterfly effect.

He
didn’t mention that. Instead he gestured with an open hand. “You did this. All
of this. You saved more than a thousand people with your bare hands. Me? I
froze.”

“And
lost a husband in the process.” She let loose a guffaw. “God, how petty do I
sound? A thousand people are alive today, and all I care about is losing
Felix.” But that wasn’t the worst of it. “What if I can lose
him
? What
if I lose Charlie?” Across the way, Charlie fiddled with his shirt, glanced
back, and then waved before boarding the boat with his father and uncle.

Bill
followed her gaze. “We won’t let that happen.”

“How?”
She couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice. “We’re not in control, Bill.
Not even Leanor is—was. No one could’ve guessed that this … That I … How can we
keep him safe? By bringing him with us? By letting a mad bomber see him? How
can I
ever
keep Charlie safe in a world that doesn’t care?”

Because
it didn’t. She could see that now. Time wasn’t going to reward them. The
universe wasn’t going to reach out and pat her on the back, restoring her
family or Leanor to her. There was nothing they could do.

But
Bill shook his head, coming closer. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “We try.”
He squeezed, and his strength coursed through her like a burning flame.

Her
back, her arm, her fists clenched. She’d do more than try. Somehow she’d keep
Charlie safe from harm. She’d find a way to get Felix back. She’d resurrect
Leanor. She’d fix her life.

That
was how to combat an uncaring world: by being active, by never losing your
grip, by staying focused on everything that was important. “Yes,” Charlotte
agreed. “We try.”

She
crossed the remainder of the way, ignoring all that the Octagon had done to
commemorate the Blast, eager to catch up to her family. Charlie was probably
already seated, feet swinging as he looked toward Manhattan’s skyline. His eyes
were probably already gleaming, ready to draw some new picture when he got
home. Monroe would be narrating some tale. And Felix … She tried to breathe
evenly, tried to not collapse into sobs again.

 She
felt Bill at her side and grabbed his hand. He
was
family now. She had
lost Felix, but she’d gained Bill. Soon they’d fulfill Leanor’s final wish.
They’d stop Ana. Then she’d find a way to fix this whole mess.

The
tour boat was softly lit, a constant reminder that this wasn’t a celebration
tour. This would be about remembrance. But not for Charlotte. Not for Monroe or
Bill. For them, this would be about learning how to stop the Blast altogether.

As
Charlotte followed Bill onto the dim boat, she felt a thick hand touch her arm.
“Going somewhere?” a low voice asked. She spun to see him, the short shadow
with blazing blue hair. He grinned widely to show his canines.