Vortex (21 page)

My first panicked thought was of Holly, but then I sighed with relief, remembering
that she had left a while ago. “Look, Mason. It’s more than a guess, okay? You gotta
let me take this thing apart.”

I reached for the pink tube and Mason stared at me with crazed eyes. His fingers locked
tighter around the blue tube. “Don’t move! You touch that other tube and I’m pulling
this one off!” He ran his free hand through his hair, making it stick up straight
in all directions. “I just need more time! I can figure this out.”

“Calm down, Mason,” Kendrick said, leaning closer to him. “Take a deep breath and
try to relax. We both know you’re brilliant and you
can
do this.”

His shoulders relaxed just a little and he inhaled heavily, letting it out slowly
and closing his eyes for a second.

I, on the other hand, was having a hard time not shoving the kid aside. “Seven fucking
minutes! Mason, I’m not kidding. Let me help.”

“Shut up!”

The sounds of the party above us—music, laughing, glasses clinking—seemed to fill
the small space the three of us sat in. None of them had any clue how close they were
to taking their last breaths.

“Oh, God … this won’t be easy,” Kendrick mumbled into the phone. She tugged on my
shirt and whispered, “Dr. Melvin says grab Mason and get out, now. He’s panicking
and none of us know what’s in this.”

“I am not panicking!” Mason shouted back at her.

“Kendrick, I know how to turn this off, trust me, please,” I said.

She shook her head immediately. “No one expects you to be the hero right now, Jackson.
You’re not trained to do this. Forget it. Let’s go! We’ve been given orders.”

Yeah … orders. From Dr. Melvin, who was practically a second father to both Mason
and me. Not exactly an impartial leader, looking out for the good of everyone involved.

I made a quick decision and glanced up at Kendrick first before saying, “I’m sorry.
Don’t hate me, okay?”

My fingers found the pistol in the back of my pants, and even the whiskey and beer
in my blood wouldn’t keep me from being sharp right now. In one swift motion, I had
the gun pressed to Mason’s temple. Kendrick gasped beside me and scooted back.

“Jackson … don’t,” she whispered, like I’d betrayed her.

Mason’s face twisted with anger. He knew I had him.

“Mason, get your hands off the explosive, back up, and let me take this thing apart,”
I said.

“No way. You’ll kill everyone in this building … maybe the entire block.”

“Six minutes,” Kendrick said. “Come on, Jackson. Let’s just go.” Tears trembled in
her voice and it hit me right in the gut. Harder than I would have expected.

“I’m counting to five, and if you don’t back the hell away I’ll shoot you and then
I’ll take the damn thing apart,” I snapped at Mason. “One … two…”

“Fuck you!” he said, throwing his hands up in defeat before sliding backward, away
from the bomb.

I let out a breath of relief, but didn’t lower the gun, just in case. My stomach turned
over and over and suddenly I wasn’t as sure as I’d thought. Or maybe I hadn’t thought
beyond convincing Mason to hand over the reins. “Get out, both of you—now!” I said.

She shook her head, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. “If you’re staying—”

“Yeah, that’s a brilliant idea, Kendrick. Stick around so the CIA can deliver your
remains in an envelope to Michael!” I shouted, not caring if I hurt her, so long as
she left in the next thirty seconds. “You, too, Mason. Get as far away as you can.”

Kendrick still had the phone to her ear, with Dr. Melvin listening in, probably yelling
at her to drag me out of here. Ten more seconds of intense stares passed, and she
finally stood up and grabbed Mason by the arm.

The second I heard the door slam shut and the pounding of their running footsteps,
I set my gun on the floor. My brain went into machine mode and piece after piece was
removed exactly how Emily had done it. My heart thudded so loud, I couldn’t hear any
other sound. I wiped my sweaty hands off on my pants and reached for the last piece
of the giant bomb.

My breath got stuck in my throat and I held it there as the time clicked from two
minutes to one minute.

No turning back now.

My fingers clutched the tube of green liquid, squeezing it while I drew in a deep
breath. Maybe this would work … but maybe it wouldn’t. The glow at the bottom of the
explosive was still shining bright and I could only assume that it needed to turn
off.

I closed my eyes, taking in several slow, deep breaths. The clock ticked in time with
the pulse of blood pumping in my fingertips. Holly’s voice filled my head for the
three fleeting seconds it took me to yank off the last piece.

I opened my eyes and slid out the green tube. My heart nearly stopped as the light
in the bottom flickered. Just as it turned all the way off, a loud boom erupted from
behind me.

A gunshot.

In about two seconds the green tube was set on the floor and I was on my feet, charging
out the door. The utility room opened to a long semidark hallway. I could hear voices
farther down the hall, and as I started to run, Stewart came barreling into me from
another corridor.

“Did you fire your gun?” I asked her frantically.

“No, I just got here.” Her eyes met mine for a second and there was just a hint of
guilt. “I should have trusted Mason … figured that he probably had a good reason if
he chose to follow your ass back here.”

I pressed my back against the wall and held my gun out in front of me. “I made them
leave. We found an explosive and Mason kinda freaked. Don’t worry, I already defused
it.”

Another shot rang through the basement and Stewart and I both jumped into action,
walking quickly toward the sound. The hall opened to a large room where two elevators
sat in the center. Stewart nodded toward an older lady in a maid’s uniform with wild
gray hair sticking up everywhere. She was huddled in a corner, shaking, tears streaming
down her face. A tiny scream escaped her lips when she saw us with our guns pointing
around the room.

I took a few steps toward her and put a hand over her mouth. “Do you have a key …
to go upstairs?”

Stewart threw me an exasperated look. “We can’t evacuate the whole damn building,
Jackson. Just help me figure out who’s down here.”

Loud running footsteps came closer and closer. Stewart and I both froze. Kendrick
flew past us … and an EOT I recognized from Germany charged after her.

I could practically hear Stewart’s thoughts, her calculations. She turned her gun
toward the EOT and fired perfectly at his right shoulder and then his left leg. The
man collapsed in a heap right in front of the elevator. Kendrick turned around and
sighed with relief, then ran back toward us.

I grabbed the maid by the arm and tugged her toward the elevator. “Do you have a key?”
I asked again.

“No! No!” she said in a panic.

“Where’s Mason?” Stewart asked Kendrick.

Her eyes darted down the three corridors. “I don’t know…”

I shook the locked door leading to the stairwell, trying to force it open. “Damn it!”

“Forget about it, Jackson. We need to find Mason,” Stewart said, heading for one of
the corridors.

My arms were now gripping this woman’s shoulders as her legs threatened to give out.
“Don’t scream, okay?” I said to her.

I couldn’t see her face, but she nodded her head. Kendrick’s eyes widened, staring
at something over my shoulder. I knew what it had to be and I released the woman and
snapped around quickly, not even looking at my attacker before sending a hard kick
to his face. The man stumbled backward and a stream of blood flooded out of his nose
onto the white tile floor.

Kendrick gasped when he vanished. I turned in a circle, waiting for him to return.
This time he caught me. Right around the waist, throwing me to the ground. My head
slammed onto the tile floor, but the look of utter panic on the innocent woman’s face
distracted me. I aimed my gun at the door to the stairwell and fired a shot at the
glass panel above the doorknob. It shattered with a loud crack.

I wrestled with my attacker, not able to pull off a good shot with him behind me.
As I was trying to pin him to the floor underneath me, I saw Kendrick reach her hand
through the broken panel and open the door, shoving the woman up the first step.

My head hit the floor again and the middle-aged man with brown hair like mine stared
right at my face, his eyes, his expression … all perfectly calm.

“Thomas said I’d never stand a chance against you,” the man said, not taking his eyes
off mine. “I’m not sure he’s right. I haven’t seen you pull any tricks yet.”

“That’s because he’s got us to clean up his mess,” Stewart said, curling her elbow
around the man’s neck.

Red crept up to his face almost immediately and his grip loosened on me. Stewart continued
to apply pressure until the guy lost consciousness. His body went limp on top of me
and I shoved him over onto the hard floor.

“Thanks,” I mumbled to Stewart.

“We need to find Mason,” she said.

Kendrick and I stood on either side of Stewart and all three of us stared down the
three corridors.

“We’ll each take one,” I said.

They nodded their agreement and I took off down the hallway to the right. Another
gunshot halted me and then soft fingers curled around my wrist, only touching me lightly.
My first thought was Mason. He could sneak up on you better than anyone I’d ever seen.
My eyes traveled down my arm, taking in the smaller, feminine hand, and then the flash
of red hair falling in front of my face distracted me. The room spun and I felt it.
Familiar as ever, even though it had been months.

I was jumping, and Cassidy … my biological mother … was dragging me to some unknown
location and time …

My defensive move was a couple seconds late, but I tried anyway and focused my mind
on something … something buried in my subconscious beyond reach.

Until now.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The first sound I heard was Cassidy’s loud holler. She released her hand from my wrist
and sank to the floor on her knees. Her eyes bugged out, wide as golf balls.

Where are we?

I took a half second to glance around and was shocked to see the familiar sight of
my dad’s kitchen.
My
kitchen. But it was different.

Cassidy dropped her eyes to her arms and I did the same. Blue and purple streaks ran
up them, like instant bruises. Nausea swept over me, and it had nothing to do with
jumping.

Had I done that? When I pulled the jump here instead of wherever the hell she was
trying to take me? I heard a new voice gasp and glanced up to see a brown-haired woman
standing in the doorway, eyes almost as big as Cassidy’s.

Eileen.
Did that mean this was before 1992? Or maybe if it was a different timeline … something
changed … maybe Eileen lived past October 1992 in a different universe. It was definitely
a full jump. But how would I know if it was a
Thomas
-jump?

Cassidy let out another loud holler and I dropped down beside her. “What the hell
happened? What’s wrong with you?” I almost wished I had more of a grudge against her
so her screams wouldn’t affect me like this, but they did. Then, before she could
answer, before I could attempt to help, she vanished.

I stood there, trying to catch my breath, to let my heart slow down, while Eileen
stared openmouthed at me.

My legs shook as I walked closer to her. I’d never seen her up close. Not when I was
old enough to really remember.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I knew that. I really did, but something took over and
one foot stepped in front of the other and my rational mind surrendered control of
the situation.

She was holding her breath … hands slowly lifting up as if I were a police officer
ordering her to do this. “Wait … please just—”

I stopped right in front of her, only twelve inches from her face. “I wish I could
remember … something,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.

Eileen lowered her hands, eying me curiously. “Remember what?” she asked, the Scottish
accent leaking through.

She was stalling. Had she called for someone? Used some emergency signal or something?
“What year is it?”

She deliberated for a minute, then finally said, “1992.”

The year she died.

“What month?” I asked, a little more urgently.

“July … July thirteenth,” she croaked.

And I knew instantly how I could tell if this was a
Thomas
-jump. Before she could stop me, I tore down the hall, opening three bedroom doors
before finding the right one. Classical music played softly through a cassette player
on the dresser next to a Winnie-the-Pooh lamp.

Air failed to move through my lungs as I stared at the little boy asleep in a tiny
bed. He was lying on his back, hair sweaty and blankets balled up at the foot of the
bed, blue one-piece pajamas zipped up to his neck.

The agent in me didn’t turn off, even with the shock of what I’d just done. I took
two seconds to allow my eyes to scroll over the contents of the room: two dressers …
a changing table … another tiny bed with a little redheaded figure in light purple
pajamas curled up in a ball, a doll tucked under her arm …
Courtney
.

Then I was back to staring at my younger self, Dr. Melvin’s words from the other day,
in his office, repeating in my head over and over:
If you were able to do this, like Thomas, maybe jump five years in the past … you
would see yourself
.

And I was definitely seeing my other self … while feeling the weight and presence
of my entire body here and now. Not a half-jump.

“Wait!” Eileen said, running up behind me. “Please, don’t hurt them…”

“Oh, God … I
can
do it. Shit.” I reached my hand out, holding the wall for support. “And 1992…? Two,
then … I’m two.
He’s
two…”