Time's Divide (The Chronos Files Book 3) (39 page)

“I didn’t think you could jump this far. Julia said—”

“My dad was killed because he let people know he could use the key. Julia didn’t want me to risk it. But I’m smarter than that.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

“You didn’t show up on schedule,” he snaps, still looking toward the rec center. “Which meant you were either dead or stranded. So someone had to come save your ass.”

“I thought Fifth Column rules prohibited that? When I wanted to go back and save Julia, Tilson told me—”

“Yeah, well that was going
back
. Changing history. This is going forward. It hasn’t happened yet. Not the same thing. And either way, whether I like it or not, you’re the one exception to that rule. If you do something stupid and get yourself killed—past, present, or future—I have to fix it.”

I don’t really have a response to that, and I feel a little guilty for not trusting him earlier. Oh, hell. For not trusting him
still
. Because even though he’s here trying to get me out of this mess, I don’t like him and I don’t trust him. Mostly because he was with Eve, but also because I know that getting Mom and Katherine back safely is pretty much rock bottom on Max’s list of priorities. I could understand it being below preventing the Culling. As much as it pains me, I’d have to put that first, too. But for him, it ranks below preserving his branch of Cyrist International, and there we part ways.

“But how did you
find
me? How did you know where to look?”

“No thanks to you, that’s for sure, since you wouldn’t leave me the coordinates. I was about to go back to Plan A—the jet packs—but that black hole isn’t there anymore. It’s smack dab in the middle of a wall or something. We were trying to figure out some way to work around that when Dunne showed up with the info. Where did he take the keys?”

“I don’t know.”

He curses and spits into the corner, which is ick and adds one more reason for me not to like him. “They’re probably in Saul’s hands already.”

“If Kiernan was going to turn them over to Simon and Saul, why would he have given you the coordinates to find me? Once I’m out of here, he’ll give me the keys, and Connor will destroy them.”

“No. We have people to handle that. You bring the keys to the hotel, and we’ll take it from there.”

I don’t answer. If Max takes my silence as agreement, then fine, but no way in hell will I put those keys into the hands of these unnamed
people
of his, none of whom I’ve met.

There’s a noise in the distance. Max must hear it, too, because he pulls up the gun, pointing it toward the door. “When was the last time you tried the key?”

“Maybe five minutes ago?”

“Well, try again. The hotel first, five fifty. If that doesn’t work, then this room, three nights back. I’ll follow.”

“Why not five thirty? I could keep you from—”

“We don’t want the double memories. Just go!”

“Can you get back?”

“Yes.” There’s not a hint of hesitation, so either he’s tested himself on a long jump like this or he’s not someone I’d want to face at poker.

I balance the gun against my shoulder and stare menacingly at the two hostages as I yank out my CHRONOS key. This would be the perfect time to gang up and attack me, while I’m distracted. I can tell the security guard is thinking the same thing, even if she doesn’t have a clue what I’m doing with the key. “Don’t even think it. Move all the way back. Both of you. On your stomachs, hands behind your heads. Now!”

Yeah, it’s straight out of
NCIS
. I guess Mom’s crush on that Gibbs guy came in handy.

Just as they lie down, Max begins firing. I don’t have time to check on his progress, so I pull up the stable point at the hotel and blink in.

R
ESIDENCE
I
NN

B
URTONSVILLE
, M
ARYLAND

September 12, 5:50 p.m.

I arrive at the center of a strange tableau. The first thing I see is Eve, on the sofa, still duct-taped. Still wearing her nasty little smile, too, but it fades fast when she sees me. Tilson sits to her right, his crutches against the wall. He’s holding her wrist, and he doesn’t look pleased about it, but I guess it was the only way to extend the protection of the CHRONOS field without the risk of returning her key.

Charlayne is in front of me, holding a rifle identical to the one in my hand, raised to shoulder height and pointed at Kiernan, who’s sitting on the bed. He looks more bored than afraid.

Trey must have been behind me, because I feel his arms surrounding me as I step toward Charlayne.

“Put down the gun! Kiernan’s not the enemy. Have you all gone crazy?”

Charlayne gives me a nervous look, but keeps the weapon up.

“God, Kate. You’re okay.”

I hear the question in Trey’s voice as he pulls me toward him.

“I’m okay.” I close my eyes for a second and lean into him.

“Kiernan told me,” he whispers. “That it’s not you in Rio.”

He clutches me against his chest. A bit of the tension drains away, until the sensation of hot metal against my skin brings it rushing back.

It’s the barrel of Max’s gun brushing against my bare shoulder as he jumps in. Trey and I are mere inches from the stable point, and I guess Max didn’t have time to scan forward. How many shots did he have to fire to get the barrel that hot? I just hope none of his targets were human.

And then Max is in Kiernan’s face shouting about the keys, and I’m shouting for him to back off.

“Quiet!” Tilson bangs his crutch against the metal air-conditioning unit near the window for emphasis. “You’re going to get us kicked out of here with this commotion. And I think you can lower the guns. He’s not going anywhere as long as Charlayne has his key.”

I give all of them an incredulous look. Obviously Kiernan’s wearing his backup, since he’s still here. But they didn’t know that. None of them did.

“Were you people not listening earlier?” I yell. “It’s possible none of us with the CHRONOS gene exists right now outside the range of a medallion. Who took his key?”

“That would be Max,” Trey says, giving him a foul look. “I told them Kiernan was on our side and tried to stop them. I was worried he’d vanish like Katherine did, but let’s just say I was outvoted. Or rather,
we
were outvoted,” he adds with a glance at Tilson.

Charlayne looks uncomfortable, but she still doesn’t lower the gun.

Ben puts his arm around her and says, “We were following orders, Kate.”

“This isn’t the freakin’ military!”

“Maximilian,” Tilson says, “tell them to stand down. And come deal with your fiancée.”

“She’s not my fiancée.”

“Well, she sure as hell isn’t
my
responsibility.” Tilson pushes himself up with the crutches. Eve makes a panicked noise, grabbing his shoulder as she stands and nearly causing both of them to tumble. The instant she regains her balance, Eve pulls her arms over her head. I rush forward, thinking she’s going to hit him. She does yank downward, hard, but straight down rather than toward Tilson, grinning triumphantly when the duct tape on her wrists splits straight up the middle.

Eve grabs for Tilson’s pocket, where the blue glow of the CHRONOS key is shining through the fabric. Tilson dodges to the right, whacking her with a crutch as he stumbles backward into the chair.

Charlayne turns her rifle on Eve, but Max is already there, pulling her away from Tilson and the key. That’s when Eve sees a closer option than the key in Tilson’s pocket—Max’s key, which is still in the open, hanging from the dark leather cord around his neck.

She grabs the cord and yanks. Max’s body is blocking my view, so I can’t tell whether the cord snaps or Eve manages to pull it over his head, but either way, it’s in her hands.

Max clutches her arm and twists.

That’s not a bad move for disarming your opponent. It’s definitely a bad move, however, if you want to keep yourself in contact with the object in your opponent’s hand.

Their faces don’t even have a chance to register surprise as the medallion falls from Eve’s hand and skids across the carpet and under a chair. It’s less than a foot away when they both blink out of sight.

We just stare at the empty space for a moment, and then Charlayne looks at me and says in a strangled voice, “Go back. Go back and stop him. Tell him what happens.”

“I don’t think it will work, Charlayne.”

But I try. I roll the key back, and, sure enough, they aren’t there. It’s like everyone in the room is viewing a blank spot on the carpet.

“It’s possible,” I say, “if we manage to fix the timeline, that they’ll pop back in. When Katherine’s key was yanked in the other timeline, it was because she’d been killed in the past. I stopped her from being killed, and it repaired the rift. But Max and Eve—they’re gone because CHRONOS never exists in this timeline. Their parents, grandparents, whatever, were never born. Without the key, I’d disappear, too.”

As I say that, I realize that, aside from Trey, the same is true for everyone I care about: Mom, Dad, Katherine, Connor, Kiernan. But it’s also true for the Cyrists. Does Prudence know this? Do Simon and Saul?

“Maybe once we fix this, Max and Eve will be back like Katherine was. I mean, they weren’t killed . . .” I press my palms into my eyes hard enough that it hurts, hoping it will distract me from the raging headache this is causing. “They were just erased. I don’t know if you come back from that.”

“So why didn’t he vanish?” Charlayne nods toward Kiernan. “After Max took his key, he should have disappeared, right?”

“I would have,” Kiernan says, “except someone was wise enough to give me a backup when I was eight. This isn’t the first time it’s saved me. And before you decide to go looking for my spare key, could we have a few moments of rational discussion? As Kate said, I’m not your enemy. And given that your Fifth Column is now down several members, I’m thinking you need all the allies you can get.”

B
ETHESDA
, M
ARYLAND

September 12, 6:23 p.m.

Dad and Connor are in the kitchen drinking a beer when I jump in. I’m tempted to join them. I doubt either of them would lecture me about underage drinking after the day I’ve had. But I have no idea how it would mix with the tonic from the Juvapod. And truthfully, I’m already feeling a little buzzed. Whatever they put in that drink beats the hell out of Red Bull.

My original plan was to jump back to earlier in the afternoon, before Pru arrived, and warn Dad and Connor that they were about to have a guest. But Kiernan convinced me that would only be a good idea if Pru was actually a threat. A quick skim through the two hours between her arrival and the current time showed her crying, talking, drinking coffee, sitting on the floor to pet a very nervous Daphne, and at one point yelling at Dad and Connor. They both seemed confused and on edge, and something looks a little different about the area around the sofa. Tiny shreds of fabric are scattered in front, covering most of that side of the carpet. At no point, however, did I get the sense they were in danger.

About ten minutes ago, Pru collapsed on the couch, and I took that as my cue to enter. We need a few minutes without her in the conversation, so I hope she’s really asleep, not just catnapping. On the other hand, the Culling bomb is ticking, and I’m really hoping Pru has some ideas on where the virus was kept. And that she’s not only willing but also coherent enough to share them.

Neither Dad nor Connor mentioned, or even seemed to notice, that I’m now dressed in a toga. I think that fact is a pretty good indicator of exactly how bizarre our lives have become.

Connor lifts one finger to his lips, gesturing toward the living room, where Pru is on the couch. At some point recently, one of them pulled the comforter over her. Her face looks strangely peaceful.

I nod toward the patio, and they both follow me. Actually, all three, because Daphne rouses herself from her spot under the breakfast nook and limps after us. Connor pulls the picnic table a bit to the left so that we can still see Pru through the window as we talk. I’m not sure it matters, though. The key in her arm means she can leave anytime she wants, unless we restrain her.