The elevator opens on the eleventh floor, and bright white lights are already flashing. No loud alarm, but something’s been triggered.
The door to the lab won’t open. I try the ID card over and over, but that doesn’t work either.
Panic fills me, bouncing from muscle to muscle, infecting my reason. I can’t be denied now. I’ve made it this far. I can’t help the sudden rush of tears that press behind my eyes, but I clench my fist and my jaw and I push everything away but the problem: The door.
“Your boots,” I say to Heath. “Do they have any juice left?”
He reaches in the right one and presses a button. The hyperdrive technology roars to life.
“Reversal?” he yells over the noise of the boots.
“Yes!” He waits precious seconds—seconds I’m afraid we don’t have—to let the boots power up. Then he half-walks, half-floats back to the elevator, turns his back toward the door, and crouches.
It occurs to me the moment he flips the switch that he’s going to get hurt. Very hurt.
He does it anyway, and my respect for him soars to the roof. He keeps his body coiled into a tight ball as he slams into the door. He crumples to the floor, a moan of pain leaking from his lips. I rush to his aid, examining the door at the same time.
“Made a dent,” I say.
He grunts in response, and our problem remains.
“I don’t—” I silence myself as the door swings into the lab. I start to pull Heath to safety when I catch sight of Cedar’s forty-two-year-old face.
“Cedar?”
“Get in here.”
Heath and I waste no time scurrying through the door, which Cedar then locks behind us. For the first time in my life, I’m suddenly not sure if obeying him was the right decision.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“I work here.” He strides to the back of the lab where he taps on a wall panel like the one we used at the library.
“You work here?” I follow him, my voice a bit too screechy for my liking. “What do you mean you work here?”
He taps, slides, touches, swipes. “I went back to your mom after you went through the rift. I figured you’d need my help someday.” He sends me a glare. “I didn’t think it would take you two decades. So thanks for that.”
A bloom of hope expands inside. “Can you get the rift open?”
He rolls his eyes. Taps. Swipes. Stands tall and folds his arms as the energy fills the workspace. I wince, though I try not to. Cedar sees it, and finally the stoic, icy exterior he’s displayed toward me in this year softens, cracks.
“Cedar—” I don’t quite know what else to say, but he seems to lose the last twenty years and becomes the friend I know and love.
“Five years back,” he says, startling as a loud, booming knock lands on the door. He lunges forward and presses another flesh-colored speaker into my palm. “Time to go.”
I take a moment to squeeze him in a hug, then I reach for Heath’s hand. The fierceness with which we grip each other’s fingers speaks volumes. He practically drags me forward.
“I can’t—”
“Price needs you,” Heath says over his shoulder, and that loosens my feet. I swallow down a dry throat, every bone in my body begging me not to step into that damaging energy.
“What if I don’t make it out?” I scream.
“You will!” Cedar calls as another deafening bang lands on the door. “Go! I can’t keep them out much longer!”
I turn back and see him tapping on the computer panel, his eyes frantic, his face freakishly illuminated by the bright blue rift.
In front of me, Heath ducks his head and shoulders like he’s entering a short doorway. I release my fear, my reservations, but not Heath’s hand.
The rift swallows us into silence, so different from the chaos and tension in the lab. I almost never want to leave. Then I think of my dad, and I can’t wait to get out of here.
Heath
A WAVE OF POWER HITS ME FROM BEHIND. I manage to keep a grip on Cascade as she stumbles into me. I grunt, but help Cas to her feet. I don’t waste another second; I surge forward, running to get out of this freaking rift.
We burst from the deathly silence a moment later, and welcome oxygen enters my lungs. The rift blinks into nothing only seconds after we exit, and Cas leans against the counter, heaving lungful after lungful of air.
“Can’t stay here,” I say, not sure how I know, just that I do.
She straightens and moves toward the steel door my hyperdrive boots barely dented. “The roof,” I say suddenly. “I can hyperdrive us out of here hella-fast.”
“Deal.” She cracks the door and takes a peek into the hall. “Clear.” She doesn’t hesitate, and the fierceness of the Black Panther is back. I want to chat Price and tell him, and an invisible fist strikes me in the chest.
Cas yanks open a door and starts climbing stairs. I’m ultra-glad Price and I spent so much time running after we lost the girls in our lives. I wish it was dark when we push our way onto the roof. But the morning sun shines down on us for everyone to see.
“Cedar gave me a speaker,” Cascade says as I activate the hyperdrive boots. They’ve pinched my toes slightly, but I’ve never been happier to have aching feet.
“Your house to listen to it?”
“Maybe his,” she says. “Orville owns my house, remember?”
“Cedar’s downtown, right?” I peer into the distance, trying to find a landmark so I know which way I’m looking. “We might not need the boots.”
She moves to the edge of the roof and scans the horizon instead of answering. Finally, she says, “This way. Several blocks.” She sways on her feet. “I don’t think I’ll make it more than two steps.”
I sprint toward her and catch her just as she falls. “Stay with me, Cas. I’ll get us there.” How, I have no idea, but I won’t let her down. Because if she goes down, Price is sunk.
I can’t hyperdrive with Cascade unconscious. I need her to hold onto me, hopefully with the strength of ten pythons, in order to move at such fast speeds. Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to have the strength to even hold up her own weight. Double unfortunately, an alarm begins to wail.
“Cascade.” I lean closer to her. “I need you to help me.”
“Yeah.” She fumbles her feet but manages to get them underneath her.
“Hold onto me as tight as you can.” I reach into my boot and activate the power, wishing I had something to tether Cas and I together so I don’t drop her. A pit forms in my stomach at the very thought. Price will kill me, I think, knowing he’d probably come back from the grave to do it too.
Cas’s grip around my torso is surprisingly strong, and I say, “Here we go.” The boots strain under double the weight, slowing the speed of hyperdrive to something more tolerable. I’m able to steer better, and I land on Cedar’s roof on the first try.
The door leading into his house is locked. Of-freaking-course. I’m so sick of locked doors and no entrance codes to crack them. I resort to knocking. Really loud. More like pounding really.
Cascade rests on the ground next to the door, and she seems to be fading fast, the same way she had in the cab. She needs water, and a nap. I hate this weakness in her, because it feels like I’m going to be as incapacitated as her if I keep walking through rifts.
I bang my hand against the door again, wondering if I can kick it down. No one comes, and I reason that Cedar’s still middle-aged in this year, and he’s likely at the lab he just sent us from.
So I take a step back and apologize under my breath. I put all my strength into my kick. The wood cracks with an earsplitting sound, but only relief sings through me. I scoop Cas into my arms and head into the house. Down two flights of steps, I arrive in the same living room where I met Cedar.
I set Cas on the couch and command her to stay awake. I dart into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge. I prowl through the cupboards, looking for something that looks like medicin
e. I find a row of bottles above the stove, and I grab several. I take the precious seconds to read the labels and find one that says fever reducer. I don’t think that’s what Trader gave her, but I don’t know what supplements she needs.
I hurry back to her and make her drink and take the pills. “I need your phone,” I say next, and she hands it over. I call Trader, hoping he’ll pick up. While the line rings, I head back up the stairs to secure the door. I can’t afford to have anyone notice the broken door and call the authorities.
I replace the door in the frame and twist the lock. It’s useless, but with a book I find in a case at the bottom of the stairs, the door stays closed.
“Cascade?” a man finally answers.
“Trader, it’s Heath.”
“Heath?”
I realize he hasn’t met me yet, and the weight of time travel settles on my shoulders, and it’s as heavy as I imagine the world to be.
“I’m a friend of Cascade’s. We met yesterday, but it was in the future for you. But you came and you gave her something. Vitamins or minerals or something. I need to know what.”
“Where are you?”
“Cedar’s house.”
“He’ll have everything she needs. Iron, calcium, and cell salts.” Something snaps behind his voice. “Check the cupboard above the stove. He keeps sorghum soda on the bottom shelf of the fridge”
I arrive back in the kitchen and examine the labels again, finding them all. “How much of each?”
Trader gives me the amounts and I take the pills to Cas, who swallows them without complaint. She gulps the soda like it alone will save her life.
“Rest,” I tell her. “We can’t do much until you’re stronger anyway.”
After her breathing evens and I’m sure she’s asleep, I sneak away to explore Cedar’s house. Surely he has a computer or panel here. Sure enough, I find a small device of some kind on the table next to a bed. The tech fits in the palm of my hand, but is tappable from top to bottom and left to right.
It has options on the screen: Ask a question
Look up a fact
Spell a word
Send a message
I tap on Ask a question, and a male voice says, “Ask me anything.”
“What day is it today?” I ask.
“Today is Friday, November twentieth, two-thousand-twenty-eight.”
Price’s family dies tomorrow. I know exactly what needs to happen, and so lost am I in my thoughts that when the device says, “Would you like to ask another question?” I almost drop it.
I blink at it. “What flights are leaving Castle Pines tomorrow, November twenty-first?”
“I’ll send a list of departing flights to your to-do list.”
“No, wait,” I say, but I don’t know how to make the device send me the list. I replace it on the bedside table and check on Cas. When I see she’s still snoozing peacefully, I search for a computer I can really use.
In my back pocket, Cascade’s phone buzzes. I pull it out and swipe open the text from Cedar.
I assume this is for you. There’s an attachment of the list of flights.
It’s Heath, I type into the phone, my fingers clunky as they try to find the letters. I’ve seen Cas do this, and she makes it look so easy.
How’s Cas? he asks.
Asleep, I send back. We’re at your house.
Good thing my wife is out of town. I’ll be home tonight. Stay out of sight.
Will do.
I study the list, trying to remember the article Cas and I read at the library. I scroll through the list of flights, reading the cities as if that will jog my memory.
I finally see it.
“Flagstaff.” I tap the underlined numbers, and the flight information displays on the screen. Of course it’s an early-morning flight. I feel like I’ve been hit by an electroray blast at close range. My shoulder aches from where I slammed into the metal door, and my feet scream for release from the hyperdrive boots.
Since Cedar said to stay out of sight and Cas is already sleeping, I take a few painkillers, kick off the toe-pinching boots, and settle into the sofa opposite of Cascade. It only takes seconds for me to fade from consciousness.
When I wake up, Cascade isn’t on the couch. Light that’s not quite gray and not quite golden colors the air. My stomach pinches and growls. I roll into a seated position, the muscles and bones in my back protesting with bolts of pain.
I groan, and a moment later, Cascade appears in the doorway leading to the kitchen. “You’re awake.” She sends me a small smile, and though I want to return it, I can’t.
“Pain meds,” I tell her, and she holds up one finger and disappears back into the kitchen. She brings me a tall glass of water and a fistful of pills. I down them all, hoping they’re the fast-acting kind.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“Almost six. Cedar’s bringing home dinner.”
I exhale and lean back against the couch, scrubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” she says as she sits on the couch she napped on. “Thanks for calling Trader and getting all those supplements.” She won’t look at me as she speaks, but I see the vulnerability in her, hear it coating her voice.
“Sure. The Ryerson’s flight leaves at six o’clock in the morning,” I say. “We’ll need to go talk to them tonight.”
She nods, her short hair flopping a bit as her jaw tightens. “You’re going with Cedar. Apparently he…” She pauses and waves her hand in the air with a flourish. “Knows them or something.”
I sit forward and examine her face. It’s a little grayer than usual, but not as deathly pale as earlier. “You’re not coming?”
She shakes her head, but presses her lips closed. “Want to hear the message Cedar sent with us?”
I want to push the issue of why she can’t come talk to Harlem Ryerson with me. Splitting up doesn’t seem like the wisest choice. I can’t protect her if she’s not with me. Price will—
I cut off the thought of what Price would do if I let something happen to Cascade. Price doesn’t even exist right now, and if I have to do something drastic to get him back, I will.
So I say, “Sure,” and she reaches for a cube sitting on the coffee table between us. She presses the flesh-colored object stuck to the top of the black box, and Cedar’s voice fills the room.
“Get to my house. Supplements above the stove. Everyone should take them and then stay out of sight. Orville owns the rifts in this time. Your mother works under him, though he’s hardly ever here. His son, Payton, is like a time lord, and he’s ruthless. If he catches you here, you’ll be sent to the Neapolitan Verse. There’s only one portal in, and no way out. Hopefully, I’ll see you tonight.”
I don’t know much about the alternate universes that seem to exist on the other side of some rifts, but the way Cas shivers speaks volumes.
“I didn’t take any supplements.” I can’t believe that’s what I say, but my mind processes information a single bit at a time.
Cascade gets up, goes into the kitchen, and returns with another pile of pills. I take them all, wishing the chalky texture didn’t linger in my mouth.
“I don’t want that Payton guy to find us.”
“That’s why you and Cedar are going tonight.” She takes a long drink from her grapefruit-flavored water, and I wonder at the relationship between her and Cedar. She’s seemed nothing but loyal to Price, though, so I dismiss my suspicious thoughts.
“And then?”
“Then we’re leaving through the rift.”
Equal parts fear and frustration boil in my stomach. “Tonight?” I just need one night of normal sleep. One day of normal activity. Even as I yearn for such things, I realize that they aren’t part of a rift-walker’s life.
A life I certainly don’t want.
“We’re not going to wait and see if the Ryerson’s believe us? What if they get on the plane anyway? What if Orville finds another way to kill them?”
/>
Cascade sends me a look that could freeze blood. “You think I haven’t thought of every what-if scenario that exists?”
“Of course—”
“Cedar said the Ryerson’s got out of the time rift business in twenty-thirteen, when Orville took over, when they realized how dangerous it was. Harlem focused on technology, and they’ve built a successful firm around gadgetry and advanced weapons and such.”
“They separated themselves from Orville for their own safety.”
“Exactly. They don’t know he’s planning their deaths. They don’t know how far he’s advanced the rifts, that he sends people to the Neapolitan Verse as punishment, none of it.” She studies her hands, which now twist around each other. She lifts her thumbnail to her lips and chews on it, a sure sign of her nerves.
“All we can do is warn them tonight, and I don’t know, pray or something that they’re extra vigilant in the future.”
“We’re pinning our hopes of getting Price back on a conversation?”
“No.” She glares again. “We’re pinning it on the intelligence of his great-grandfather and his grandfather. Then on Guy. We’re pinning it on Cedar, who’s going to blow up the lab—rift and all—five years in the future just after we use it to get here. We’re pinning it on my mom, who’s going to retire next month and destroy all her research, her notes, everything.”
My eyebrows lift higher with every word she speaks. “How long have you been awake?”
She gives me a grim smile. “Long enough to have more than a hope and a prayer to save Price.”
Heath
CEDAR BRINGS PIZZA WITH HIM, and the smell alone is enough to make me want to shove them both out of the way so I can eat. Instead, I hang back and watch them. Cedar’s much older than when I first met him in twenty-thirteen, but his eyes are as sharp as ever.
Cascade doesn’t seem to know how to interact with this version of her friend, so she gets her food and retreats to the kitchen table.
“Hey,” I say as I peel a slice of pizza from the pie. “Do you know much about the connected universes?”