Timescape (9 page)

“—been thinking about this. Everything's getting crazier, more—I don't know—
frantic
. I don't think that's just the way it feels.”

He paused, and David blinked the water out of his eyes to look at him.

“Something's happening,” Xander said. “Or
going
to happen.”

“
Something's happening?
” David said. “You just figure that out?”

“No,” Xander said, standing. “I mean, something big, bigger than what we've already seen.” He squinted at something on the edge of the two, then looked surprised: responding to his own thoughts, David thought. Xander snatched a towel off the rack and dropped to his knees by the tub.

David scowled at him. It was like Xander was breaking into his space, a space he found peaceful and free of all the garbage. Breaking in with worries and his sleep-when-we're-dead attitude. He said, “You're not thinking about using that towel on me, are you? Running the water for me was good enough, thank you.”

“Uh . . . no,” Xander said. He ran the towel over the edge of the tub.

Before the towel covered it, David thought he saw a smear of red against the white porcelain. “What was that?” he said.

Xander peered under the towel. “Nothing,” he said, dropping it to the floor. “Think about it. Taksidian actually hurt Jesse, probably tried to kill him. I think he's tried to kill us, too, like when he came after us through the closet yesterday, and when he sent Phemus and his friends after us. He's not satisfied bribing town officials to get us thrown out anymore. He's
serious
. Deadly serious.”

David opened his eyes wide. “No kidding.”

“So, why now?” Xander said. “Why all of a sudden?

Something's up, I'm telling you.”

“Xander, I'm taking a bath.”

His brother sat back on the floor. He sighed. “You're not listening.”

“I am,” David said. “I hear you. You're so tired you're on your second or third wind. You know, so tired you can't sleep, and your mind's going a thousand miles a minute.”

“You sound like Dad,” Xander said. He twisted his face to make sure David realized it wasn't a compliment.

“Look,” David said, “it's not all of a sudden. The house has been throwing stuff at us since we moved in.”

“But it's not just about getting Mom back, not now.” A drop of water dripped out of Xander's hair and down his face. He swatted at it as though it were a spider. Jumpy. “We've seen the
future
. Everything wiped out. We gotta do something about it, and I think Taksidian knows that. He's going to try to stop us, more than ever. Whatever he's doing that causes what we saw, it has something to do with this house. He needs it. Maybe he's on some kind of timetable. Maybe we've already stopped him from doing something he needs to do. Maybe he's getting desperate.”

“That's a lot of maybes,” David said. But Xander was probably right. He just didn't want to think about it now.

Xander grabbed the edge of the tub and hoisted himself up. David could tell he wasn't happy.

“The next thing that hits us might force us out of the house for good. Then what are we going to do about Mom?” Xander crossed the room. “Think about it, David. For Mom.” He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

David stared at the door.
He's playing me
, he thought.
And he knows the exact buttons to push.
He leaned back against the tub, determined to find the peace his brother had disrupted. But the water had cooled and his heartbeat wasn't slowing and his brother's concerns had invaded his mind.

Aaaahhhh!
He slapped the water and yanked on the chain that unplugged the drain.

CHAPTER
eighteen

WEDNESDAY, 9:00 P.M.

“Can't we at least go see Jesse?” David said.

Xander, Toria, David, and Dad were sitting around the dining room table, the remnants of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup in front of them. Though Toria had set a plate and bowl out for Nana, their grandmother was still asleep upstairs. Toria had also remembered to put a place setting down for Mom. Dad had told them it was a way of honoring a missing loved one and anticipating her return, but it only made David sad, and Xander even more agitated.

Dad said, “Not tonight, Dae. We'll see how things look in the morning. When Keal called, Jesse was just getting wheeled into the emergency room. We'll have to wait and see.”

“But he's going to be all right?”

“He's in good hands, Dae.”

David scratched his cast. After his bath, Dad had wrapped an Ace bandage around it to keep it from falling apart. But under all that crumbling plaster, his skin tingled and itched like a thousand mosquito bites.

He pushed a piece of crust across his plate. Despite being sick with worry for Jesse, he had wolfed down more than he thought he could. The whole family had eaten like starving dogs. All that exertion, he guessed, like how hungry he always was after a hard practice.

A knock sounded at the door. They all jumped and looked at each other. David was getting tired of being so jumpy. It was like getting zapped with a cattle prod every time you relaxed.

Dad got up. Xander pushed back from the table, but Dad pointed at him and said, “Wait here.” He went into the foyer.

“If it's Taksidian, I'm going to pound him,” Xander whispered.

David prayed it wasn't for a million reasons, not the least of which was the image of Taksidian's clawlike fingernails slashing at his brother.

They heard the door open and Dad mumbling something.

A deep voice answered.

Dad and Keal walked into the dining room.

David almost jumped up. He said, “How is he? How's Jesse?”

Keal shook his head. “Can't tell you, David. After they rushed him into a treatment room, a nurse started asking questions. You know, who is he, who am I, how'd he get hurt, when'd it happen. I realized that was a can of worms I didn't want to open. None of it would affect the care Jesse got, but it
could
bring a lot of grief down on you guys. You're having enough trouble staying in the house. Last thing you need is an attempted murder here.” He looked at Dad. “I assume you're not ready to leave.”

“We're not,” Dad said. He locked eyes with Xander. “Not till we get Mom back.”

“I went to use the bathroom,” Keal continued. “When I came out, I slipped away.”

“You just
left him
?” David felt like he'd been punched.

“Had to,” Keal said.

David thought Keal looked as sad as anyone could look. He knew Keal loved the old man. He wouldn't have left him unless he felt he had no other choice. Still . . . “Shouldn't
someone
be there for him?” David said.

“They're taking care of him,” Keal said. “We'll figure out a way to keep tabs on his condition later.”

Dad said, “No way they can trace him back to us?”

Keal shook his head. “I didn't give them any information.”

Dad patted Keal on the back and headed for his seat. As he passed Nana's setting, he gestured toward it. “Hungry?”

Toria, ever the hostess, said, “That's Nana's, but she's sleeping. You can have it.”

Keal dropped into the seat, nodding his thanks. Half of a sandwich disappeared into his mouth.

Xander pushed his plate away, crossed his arms on the table, and dropped his head on them. He said, “I wish we'd never come here.”

David couldn't tell if Xander was finally feeling his exhaustion or if he was taking a jab at Dad for bringing them to Pinedale and into the house on purpose. Xander had been furious about it, once Mom had been taken and the King kids had found out that Dad had known about the portals all along. Xander had claimed to be over it, but with everything getting worse and their inability to find Mom as quickly as they'd hoped, David thought it was a wound Xander had opened up again.

Dad said, “Me too, Xander. Me too.”

“But then we wouldn't have found Nana!” Toria said.

Xander lifted his head as if to say something, but apparently thought better of it. David could have guessed what was on his brother's mind:
Was finding Nana worth losing Mom? Was it worth risking our own lives time and time again? Was it worth Jesse's injury?

David closed his eyes. Were these things he thought Xander would think . . . or did he, David, think them? He didn't want to think that way, weighing the value of one person's life over another's. He supposed that was the way of things, though: Parents cared more for their own kids than other people's, even if they were compassionate for everyone. Kids felt the same for their parents. Families—weren't they the ties that bind? Blood thicker than water, and all that. But nothing was that simple. After all, Nana
was
family. So was Jesse.

He said, “Dad, do you know what Jesse meant when he said we were
gatekeepers
?”

Dad squinted at him. “He said that?”

“When we first met him,” Xander confirmed. “Right here at this table. You were in jail.”

“I don't know,” Dad said. “Maybe it has something to do with keeping people like Taksidian from using the portals. Jesse said he thought the destruction we saw in the future world was Taksidian's doing.”

“That's why he wants us out of the house,” Xander said. “So he can use it.”

Dad said, “Like he probably has been doing all these years. He's never lived here. You can tell by what the house looked like when we moved in. It was just the way my father, sister, and I left it thirty years ago.”

“Why didn't he just buy it?” Xander said.

Dad shook his head. “Can't. I found out when I inquired about buying it that the house is deeded to a trust in the family name. Only people in our family tree can live here. I had all the right paperwork to prove who we were.”

Keal cleared his throat. He said, “ 'Course Taksidian could get it condemned so no one could ever live in it. If he could prove it's too dangerous for people.”

“It is,” David said.

“But for reasons I'm sure he's not going to reveal,” Keal said. “Like you, he doesn't want anyone to know about the portals, not if he's planning to use them. He just wants it empty.”

“Well,” Dad said, “that's not going to happen.” He turned to Keal. “Jesse said what we found in the future, the destroyed city—most likely, a destroyed
world
—is Taksidian's doing. Did he tell you anything that would shed some light on that, like
why
Taksidian would do that, or what he's up to that leads to it?”

“Nothing,” Keal said. “I can't imagine somebody intentionally wiping out the world.”

“Maybe it's
not
intentional,” Dad said. “Doesn't matter.

What's important is that it does happen. We know it. We saw it. We have to find a way to stop him.”

“We need to figure out what he's up to,” Xander said.

“How?” David said.

“We turn the tables,” Xander said. “We go after
him
.”

CHAPTER
nineteen

WEDNESDAY, 9:27 P.M.

Yep, David thought, his brother was losing it. Go after Taksidian. Sounded good, in a Bruce Willis or Matt Damon kind of way, but: “How?” David said.

He glanced around the table at the faces all turned toward Xander. It appeared that even Dad and Keal were interested in the answer.

Xander said, “Find out where he lives, what he does for a living, what other things he is up to—besides terrorizing us, I mean. Maybe we'll find something that will put the pressure on
him
for a change, get him to back off.”

“Or come at us with an army or something,” David said.

“Like he hasn't already? Come on, there's gotta be something. Dad, you know, the best defense is a good offense, right?”

“Well . . .” Dad said, thinking.

Keal nodded. “He does seem to be coming at you with guns blazing. Wouldn't hurt to try to find something to throw back at him.”

“Like a hand grenade,” David said. “You don't happen to have one, do you?”

Keal smiled. “Figuratively, maybe we can find one, if we can dig up some dirt on the guy.” He eyed Xander. “And Xander, for you the operative word in that sentence is
figuratively
. Don't go trying to get your hands on any weapons.”

Xander's face said that he was either insulted that Keal felt the need to tell him that or disappointed that real bombs weren't involved in the plan.

“Wait a minute,” David said. “You're the guy who led us right
into
those creatures today. Of course you're going to say, ‘Let's charge Taksidian.' That's what you'd do.”

Keal shrugged. “It worked,” he said.

“Barely,” David said weakly. It was hard to argue with success.

“ ‘Barely' is the difference between sitting at this table now

. . . and not,” Keal said.

“Okay, then,” Xander said. “Let's do it.”

“Do what?” Toria said.

For a moment Xander looked as perplexed as Toria did. Then he said, “Computers. We can tap into all kinds of databases. Like the movie
War Games
. . . or
Eagle Eye
. I bet we can find out the brand of his underwear!” He looked around the table and offered a little shrug. “If we wanted to.”

“That's how it's done,” Keal said, nodding. “One puzzle piece at a time. Before you know it, you have something you can act on. Sometimes.”

“We can ask around too,” Xander continued, his eyes wide with excitement. “See what people know. And, and . . . why not confront him? We can go to him and—”

“Whoa, whoa,” Keal said, holding his hand up. “We have to remember this is one bad dude.” He grabbed his index finger. “Anyone who—” He stopped, looked around, lowered his hands.