The Children Who Time Lost (31 page)

Manuel dropped me at South Olive Street, a few yards behind where Holly’s Volvo was parked. I thanked him and he drove away. I just sat in the car, considering what to do if Michael didn’t call me back. I would probably have to go back to Barstow and find out as much as possible about the mayor. But I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. I called a taxi to pick me up at Holly’s before driving off.

I arrived at Silver Lake twenty minutes later. I saw the taxi parked right outside Holly’s house. I parked the Volvo in front of it, walked up to Holly’s door and raised my hand to knock. But I thought better of it. I just couldn’t face her. I pushed the car keys through the mail slot and walked back to the sidewalk. I looked at my house. My parents’ station wagon wasn’t parked in the driveway. Worry flashed through my mind, but I quickly dismissed it.
If they were going to hurt them, they would have done it already.

I spun around and caught Holly’s gaze through her open window. She stared at me with unblinking eyes. I couldn’t tell whether it was a look of disappointment or something else. But then she smiled and waved. I waved back and got into the taxi.

The rest of the day dragged. At the hotel, I stayed in my room and ordered room service. I showered and went to bed at ten, but it took me hours to fall asleep. The significance of the next day ate at me. I could warn government officials, which might lead to the saving of some lives, but their believing me was a different matter. By the time it even got to someone in a high position willing to listen to my story, it would be too late. And the aliens would probably find a way of discrediting everything anyway. And there was also the space-time continuum to consider. I’d probably already changed things just by being here. I couldn’t afford to change much more. I drifted to sleep shortly after the clock struck one-forty-five.

I was up and showered by ten, and my breakfast arrived fifteen minutes later. Now it was time to sit and wait. The articles I had read about Neptune—the name given to the meteor—said the first reports had started coming in around 8 p.m. Pacific time. They said L.A. wouldn’t be affected, but that didn’t ease the anxiety I felt. The aliens had the ability to time-travel, each change made causing wrinkles in our universe, invisible to the citizens of 2013 but all too visible to me. For all I knew, the meteor wouldn’t even hit, or it could hit somewhere else, even right on top of the hotel I was in.

The day drifted on. I sat glued to the news channels, waiting for the inevitable. The clock had just struck six when breaking news came through. I jumped to my feet and moved closer to the TV. The anchorman was speaking, but in my shock and grief, I couldn’t hear any of the words. My eyes were fixed on a picture of the nice man, Patrick, who had helped me escape from the Barstow police station. Next to his name read, “Man found dead in hotel room in Barstow.”

Tears fell from my eyes, but I couldn’t look away, as much as I wanted to. People were dying all around me, people who didn’t have to be involved in my struggle. I listened to the anchor’s words.

“Mr. Norris had burn marks across his entire body, suggesting that he was tortured for many hours before his death.”

The picture segued to a shot outside Barstow Community Hospital where a female reporter spoke some more about Patrick’s death.

I sat back on the bed, staring into space. Long after the news was over, I remained where I was, the tears on my face now dry. Just then, the picture on the TV disappeared and the lights went out. A loud rumble filtered into my room, like a bomb going off. I shook and stood up. The lights flickered but went out again. It had started.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I
heard commotion outside my door. I ran and opened it to see people running around with fear in their eyes. The rumble returned, and everyone stopped moving and just stared at each other. They resumed their scampering a few seconds later. Most headed for the stairs, but many tripped over each other in the flickering light. I walked back to my room and stood in the center, my mind processing so much. The meteor didn’t just kill people. It also introduced fear. No one knew what he or she was dealing with.
God knows what’s going through their minds right now.

Screams bled in through the window. They grew so loud I had to cover my ears. Then the TV came back on. The digital clock said it was 8:05 p.m. The screen showed the destruction around Nevada, where many houses had been flattened, some sucked into the ground. The power continued flickering. The screams grew in volume. I lay on the bed, facing the ceiling, and closed my eyes. I envisioned people getting crushed by houses, trees and cars. I saw images of men, women and children scampering to safety as the ground opened. I cried in the dark, wanting to scream but fighting it.

When I woke up five hours later, the TV picture was still flickering, and there was no sound. But the sound of fear and panic had disappeared, and the lights had stopped flickering. I checked my phone but Michael still hadn’t called. I took a swig from my water bottle and ran a bath. I sat in the tub and stared at the walls, shaking, my mind blank. I dried myself off and returned to the bed, but I spent the rest of the night in the same state, staring into emptiness.

My cell rang for the fifth time in a minute. I squinted in the morning sun and reached for it, but it was too far. I got out of bed and looked at the screen. The number was unknown. I cleared my throat a few times and answered. “Hello.”

“Cynthia?”

I frowned for a second but then remembered. “Hi, Michael.”

“I was worried. I thought something might have happened.”

I glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven. “I’m fine. What about you?”

He didn’t answer.

“Michael?”

“How did you really know this was going to happen?”

“I told you.”

He went quiet again. “We need to meet.”

“When?”

“What’re you doing now?”

“Now?”

“Please,” he said. “I’ve been tearing my hair out over everything you told me. If there’s a connection with the aliens from your time, your son and the meteor, we need to find out what it is.”

“So you believe me now?”

“It’s a bit hard not to. There’s a huge crater in the middle of the Nevada desert, and you knew it was going to happen before any of our best scientists.”

I sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Okay then. Where?”

“There’s a café on West Ninth Street called Panini. Can we meet there at one?”

I suddenly panicked.
What if they’ve already gotten to him like they did with Willie?

“Cynthia?”

Then again, he’s still my best chance to get Dylan back.
“Okay, fine.”

I heard him sigh. “Okay. If I’m late, wait for me. I’ll be there. Also, do you have a hat or something?”

“A hat?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just be there. I’ll shake any tails I might have before I get there.”

“Okay. … Michael.”

“Yes?”

“Cynthia isn’t my real name.”

He sniggered. “I kind of figured. What is it?”

“Rachel … Rachel Harris.”

“Good to meet you, Rachel.”

I giggled like a schoolgirl. “Good to meet you, too, Michael.”

“I’ll see you at one.” He hung up.

I stood there for a moment. Then I shouted, “Yes.” I ran into the bathroom and got into the shower.

The cab dropped me outside a Ralph’s store on West Ninth Street just before one. I wore my pinstripe suit again to blend in with the people I knew would be around. And I did blend in. As I walked the quarter-mile to Panini, the people I passed all had fear in their eyes. They all talked about the meteor, expressing fear for the safety of friends and loved ones.

Workers in nearby shops fixed their gazes on wall-mounted TV screens as a host of pictures of the devastation filled the screens. I quickened my pace. I couldn’t watch any longer. When I entered Panini, a few people glanced at me. I walked to the counter and sat down, trying not to fidget. The TV was on here, too, but the volume was turned down. It showed pictures of houses that had been torn to shreds. Some were half-buried in the ground. It was horrible.

A young waitress with short brown hair and a broad smile approached me. “Coffee, tea?”