The Timeless Trilogy Box Set 1-3

by Holly Hook

  Chapter Twenty

  I float in space.

  I open my eyes and close them again, too gone to come completely out of my slumber. Light shines on me from every angle. Heat wraps its healing force around my cells, around my leg, around my shattered bone. The pain in my leg ebbs into a dull ache and a soothing tingle takes the place of the screaming agony.

  But isn't space supposed to be dark?

  Something cool is underneath me, something solid. A slab or a floor, I'm not sure. I'm lying on my back. I can feel it now that the warmth has chased the numbness and pain away.

  “This isn't what was supposed to happen,” someone says nearby. “I swear.”

  Frank.

  Simon groans nearby. Where is he?

  "Simon--"

  “We need to throw her back,” Frank continues. His voice echoes. “I'll take care of that.”

  We must be in the Hub. The Main Chamber, even. I turn my head and try to speak. But I can't. My strength has gone. I'm a fish out of water, a catch that's too small to be worth keeping after all.

  Please, I think as Simon makes another groan next to me. This is wrong.

  The taste of Melvin's last tears linger at the corner of my mouth.

  Stay here, my father says to me over his shoulder as he vanishes around the corner.

  I turn my head again. A hand pats me on the forearm. The last of the physical pain surging through my leg fades away in a gentle pulse of warmth. My body is healed.

  And yet a ripping, emotional agony sears through me like a lightning bolt.

  I don't deserve to lie here alive, healed, while my little brother sinks through miles of cold darkness to the muck on the ocean floor.

  “No.” It's Isabel speaking now. I imagine her standing with her fists at her side, staring down Frank. “It's too late.”

  Too late.

  Too dead.

  A cry escapes from my throat, doing nothing to ease the real pain.

  Too guilty.

  I can't leave Melvin in that horrible place, and I can't let them throw me back.

  “Julia!” Simon cries from the light trying to peek its way through my eyelids.

  “Simon.” It takes all my strength to utter it.

  Let me have another chance to make things right.

  “And why is it too late?” Frank asks.

  “Time's already taking her. It's taking them both.”

  Isabel's words roll around inside me.

  Taking me.

  “But why would it want her? This might be dangerous. It's never taken a Rogue. She's too--”

  “I don't know, Frank.” Isabel's right over me now. “I don't know.”

  The light invades now, washing through every particle of my being. The space behind my eyelids turns bright and hopeful.

  Gold.

  Time's taking me.

  I'm becoming one of them.

  One of the Timeless.

  Becoming what I hate, what I vowed to fight.

  "Melvin!" I cry out, holding onto that pain inside. I'll never let it go. "Father!"

  No answer.

  I float away into light.

  * * * * *

  "Melvin," I groan, turning over. "Father…"

  I open my eyes.

  The bottom of my father's bunk stretches out before me, but his hand doesn't dangle off the edge. The air hangs heavy and silent.

  No snores. No thumb sucking.

  No distant rumble of the ship's engines as it goes forward to its demise.

  Nobody.

  I stare at the bunk for minutes, listening for someone, anyone.

  This is an empty place.

  A memory.

  The place where Simon has his quarters.

  The place that now also contains mine.

  Two sets of memories spin in my head. Nancy and Monica. My father and Melvin. But if I survived the sinking and didn't have to be hidden in another time, I shouldn't remember Nancy and Monica because now I never lived with them, right? How is it that I still recall that life in Trenton?

  I've lost both of my families.

  "Simon!" I yell.

  His name echoes back at me from somewhere. If he's here, he's in his berth at the front of the ship.

  I leap off my bunk, dash out the door, and start to run away from the empty room where my father and Melvin should be. The hallways blur past. I leave my failure behind me and the truth of what I've become.

  Why does Time find me worthy now?

  Was it the Simon's blood on my forehead--a mistake--or something else I can't guess? Did I outsmart it?

  "Simon!"

  The Third Class dining room bounces past. It's empty and dead. The adults and children have both vanished, most of them into the icy Atlantic out in the real world.

  I only wanted to survive and have another chance at saving my family.

  I didn't want this.

  "Simon!"

  "Julia."

  He rushes around the fork in the hall, eyes wide but still his normal, deep brown. It's obvious from the relieved way he looks at me that mine haven't gone to gold.

  I'll never be able to look in a mirror again.

  We collide.

  Embrace.

  He's warm and full of hope. His heart beats with mine.

  "Julia," he says into my hair. "I remember everything now, even finding you at Grondin's. I'm sorry I took so long to trust you on the real ship."

  "How is that possible?" I breathe. "I remember Nancy and Monica too, but I shouldn't because now that never happened."

  He breathes out and squeezes me tight as if I could vanish from his grip. "The memories of the Timeless cannot be changed. Ever. Even if someone does what you did and alters history, it's all still there. That's why we remember what we shouldn't."

  Simon's here.

  All of him. The 1912 Simon and the Timeless Simon.

  And so am I.

  The past me, the future me, and now, a new, immortal me.

  The coal necklace presses against the front of my dress just enough to tell me it's there.

  There are no longer any secrets between us.

  Our embrace stretches into minutes, hours, maybe. Time doesn't flow here. I sink into its safety, falling into Simon's healing depths. He rubs his hand down my back, leaving a trail of bubbles in his wake. My heart slows while we breathe together.

  "I knew you’d beat it," he says at last.

  "Not without your help."

  "But now I've made you a prisoner of time, too."

  I close my eyes and feel his heart beating under my ear. "There wasn't any other way it could have gone. With getting me out, I mean."

  And there wasn't.

  He presses his hand into my shoulder blade. "I'm still keeping my promise, Julia. We're going to save your family. We'll figure something out."

  I remember his kiss on the stern of the Titanic. "I know."

  I refuse to have it go otherwise.

  We're going to rescue Melvin and my father if we have to go back and stop the ship from hitting the iceberg in the first place.

  Simon places a kiss on my forehead. "It won't be easy, but we can't give up on this. We won’t."

  I press my lips to his, savoring his salty taste.

  The pain inside me eases. My brother's cries grow fainter inside but don't fade entirely. They never will.

  Melvin. Father. I'll come back and get you.

  Things will turn out okay.

  At last we break apart and he manages a smile. "We should get back to Grondin's."

  My mind fumbles over the word. "Grondin's? But since I'm here now, didn't my stay with Nancy and Monica never happen? They won't know who I am."

  Simon's mouth turns up into a grin. "That's true. But we can do mind tricks, Julia. We'll restore their memories of you. We just have to fill them in on everything that happened with you in the past year."

  The hallway stretches out behind him, lined with doors that no one will pass through ever again. He's
right. We can do that. I won't lose both families after all.

  "Thank you."

  I squeeze Simon so tight that he gasps. "Julia--"

  "So you didn't tell Isabel that you gave me this necklace, either?" I ask. "How did she figure out what was in it, then?"

  I let him go so he can speak. "Isabel?" he asks, his eyebrows lowering. "Oh. Don't worry about her right now, Julia. She's just very knowledgeable about some things. That's all. I never breathed a word to her about this."

  "We have a lot to worry about."

  "You need a break first. Nancy and Monica want to spend time with you."

  "How am I supposed to go back--" I wave down at my clothes--"Like this?"

  There's much more to that question than my ugly, brown dress.

  "It's easy," he says, waving me down the hallway. "I'll show you."

  End of 2:20 (Book #1 of the Timeless Trilogy)

  11:39 (#2 Timeless Trilogy)

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  “Keep your eyes closed.”

  Simon’s voice is silk in the darkness. He squeezes my wrists enough to tell me that I’m not going to trip. One of my feet scrapes carpet and I curse myself for my clumsiness. It always make Simon grin in that stupid way of his.

  “We’re getting there, Julia. Just keep walking.”

  “This had better be good.” I can't help but sound uncomfortable. He's led me along for the past five minutes. Over rugs. Up stairwells. Through what feels like every doorway that I don’t want to go through ever again. “Honestly, Simon. This place holds way too many bad memories. I’d rather head back to the regular world. Even the high school gym—“ I stop when I realize what I’m saying. That place doesn’t harbor any pleasant thoughts, either.

  But it’s still not as bad as walking around in the inside of the Titanic.

  Well, the memory of it, anyway.

  “It won’t be bad. Not like anything we remember.”

  "That must mean we're headed to the first class part of the ship?" It sure feels like it. Back in the regular world Simon and I were relegated to the bottom decks with all the other poor folks.

  Simon’s guiding me up another set of stairs. A door squeaks on new hinges that exist only here in the Hub, the body of Time. The real ones sit on the bottom of the ocean, getting eaten to oblivion by weird bacteria.

  This is just a memory. A record. A reconstruction, like a museum. That’s it.

  I have to tell myself that.

  This isn’t the actual place where my father and my little brother—

  “Are we almost there?” I ask, distracting my thoughts. I sound like a child begging to use the lavatory and I hate it.

  “Yes.” I hear some regret in Simon’s voice, just enough for me to know he has some doubts about this. “Wait a second, Julia.” He lets go of my arms. I open my eyes barely enough to let a hair of light in. His dark figure stands in front of me. I squeeze them shut again in case he catches me peeking.

  Silence drags out.

  “Um, Simon?”

  “Hold on. One more second.” He takes a few steps. “Okay, Julia. You can open your eyes.”

  I do.

  “Holy—“ I start.

  It’s a whole different world than I ever expected.

  White and soft yellow surround me and I squint, letting my eyes adjust to the light. We’re standing in one of the first class dining rooms, a place that Simon and I were forbidden to go in real life. Chandeliers hang down from the ceilings, giving away a soft, warm glow. Soft violin music starts playing as if our arrival has thrown a switch.

  And there are people here. Actual people. Almost every table is taken up by gentlemen in suits and ladies in sequin dresses. No one gives us a glance.

  I’m frozen.

  There's never been anyone besides Simon or me in this Hub reconstruction of the ship. Silverware sparkles. Waiters weave between tables, silver platters in hand. Low, polite chatter fills the air. A man raises a sparkling glass of water and takes a sip.

  I back away, closer to the door. I’m all too aware of my jeans and the Kool-Aid stain I’ve got on my shirt sleeve from working at the daycare earlier. The rich folks still give us no attention. It’s as if we don’t exist. I’m not sure I'll like it if they do take notice.

  “Simon—“ I face him, unable to find the words. I stand there like an idiot. He’s smiling. I don’t get it, since he's dressed just as sloppy as I am. This memory of the Titanic is always empty. I’ve never so much as seen a rat scurrying around on the lower decks. Then again, I’ve only had real access to the Hub for about a month. Simon’s been here forever. I’m sure he knows more about it than me.

  A waiter brushes past us. “Excuse me, Ma’am.” He keeps going, not looking twice at the fact that Simon and I are both living, breathing blemishes in this fancy dinner. Or tea time. Or whatever the first class people called it.

  Ma’am. I don’t think anyone’s called me that before.

  “None of these people are real, Julia. If they were, they’d be sticking up their noses at us.” Simon waves at the oblivious diners. The violin picks up like it’s trying to be heard over the talk. “It’s so depressing around here without any life. So I made some.”

  “Made some?”

  He shrugs. “After you spend decades hanging around here, you learn how to, well, manipulate things. Since this place is just a memory, all I’ve got to do is shed some mental sweat to change things up for a bit. The Timeless can affect their quarters with practice. I’ll have to show you how to do it sometime. But the food’s real enough. You’ll see.” He takes my arm.

  “We’re…” I sputter. “We’re going to eat here?”

  “No.” He’s grinning wider. “We’re going to hang back and watch everyone else enjoy the meal. Come on, Julia. It’s safe. I’ve eaten the food here lots of times. If I have to spend most of my time in this place, I’m at least going to enjoy it.” He waves me towards a table in the middle of the room. It’s the only empty one. A lone candle flickers in glass, making distorted circles on the table. “It’s not like we have to worry about food poisoning, anyway. Nothing can kill us."

  I try to imagine Simon sitting down at one of these tables and chatting it up with these fake rich people. It’s not something I can wrap my mind around. It’s not Simon. And it’s definitely not me.

  Or is it? I don’t know anymore. Not since Time claimed me as the newest member of its time police. Not since I survived the sinking of this ship twice only to see my little brother, Melvin, get swept away by the icy Atlantic.

  “Julia?” Simon’s concern. Maybe disappointment.

  I shake my head and force a smile. I won’t let my memories drag us down tonight. I can tell by the lines around his eyes that he really did some mental sweating to set this up. Even the emerald flecks in them look duller and more tired. He's trying to make all of this easier for me, to give me a break from darker things.

  Simon takes my hand. I imagine I'm dumping my depression and horror at the door, but it follows me close like a toxic cloud, gripping my clothes and invading my lungs. I follow him to the table and we sit.

  I breathe out and watch the candle flickering. The song changes to a happy springtime waltz. Light flickers across Simon’s features. He sits opposite me. He’s so messy. Out of place. His chocolate eyes are so extraordinary but so normal. The candle on our table brings out the green flecks to life again. I turn my gaze to him, trying to ignore my surroundings. This place is something the kids on the East Side of Trenton would enjoy if they lived in the early nineteen hundreds. I can imagine Wendy sitting at that table next to us instead of that woman with the pearl necklace and the cream dress that she’s trying to protect with the fancy napkin on her lap. Wow, she looks so real. She even has a mole on the side of her neck shaped like the state of Virginia.

  “Like the detail?” Simon asks. “I can’t tell you how long it took for me to master making all this. The Timeless can change their surroundings
here. Soon you’ll learn how to do it, too.”

  "I can't wait. I don't want this remind me of that night anymore." I still wish Simon had taken us out somewhere in the real world, maybe to a time we've never visited, but he's right. This isn't the same Titanic that Simon and I experienced.

  “Would you like an appetizer?” the waiter asks. He's appeared out of nowhere at the side of the table, towel folded over his arm. His eyes smile. There’s no trace of stuffiness here.

  Simon flicks his hair out of his eyes. “Breadsticks. With garlic butter dip. And two glasses of Coke.”

  “It will be right out.” The waiter smiles and turns and heads to the double doors of the kitchen.

  “Breadsticks?” I ask. My jaw falls open, but I’m secretly relieved. “In here? I thought you were going to order caviar or something the way we were going.” That’s another thing I can’t imagine.

  Simon makes a face. “Fish eggs. Tasty. Like I said, I changed a lot of things.”

  “Thank you.” Maybe this won’t be bad after all. I should’ve known. Simon wouldn’t drag me to anything where I have to act the part of polite, perfect Victorian girl just to sit down and eat. I’d rather sit on the floor and put my plate up on the coffee table in front of the TV, as much as my guardian, Nancy, hates that.

  “So we could even order pizza?”

  Simon rolls up his napkin and out again. He lets it flop dangerously close to the candle, but it doesn’t catch fire. “For free.”

  “And have them play heavy metal in here if we wanted.”

  “If we wanted.” He smiles. “Come on, Julia. You hate the music from Nancy and Monica's time."

  It’s true. I do. That comes from your original life happening way before the Oldies were invented.

  “Here you are.” The waiter’s back and he’s putting two glasses of Coke on our table. Complete with straws in paper wrappers. They’re cheap glasses, too, the kind you’d get in some burger joint. They even say Coca Cola on the side.

  “Hey. I like this,” I say, feeling kind of bad that I didn’t show much enthusiasm before. “We should do this more often.”

  “We should. I just wanted to show you that it’s not so bad. You know, being this way.” Simon unwraps his and a streak of gold shoots its way through the color of his eyes, almost like it’s angry and going to impale someone.