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The Timeless Trilogy Box Set 1-3

Page 23

by Holly Hook


  “It didn't,” Isabel says. “I was watching.”

  A low whoosh fills the room, getting louder and louder.

  I jump, cursing myself. I’ve had so many surprises and trips today that I should be ready for anything at this point.

  The whooshing grows louder like a million people are waving fans on a hot day. But the air remains clear and I realize that everyone else, Frank included, is watching the ceiling with intent. I join them. Is this how the Timeless get their assignments?

  “Come on,” Frank says, inpatient. I can hear the nerves in his voice. He doesn’t want Simon to jump on him again. Or me.

  I keep staring, trying to forget that he’s there. If Frank’s right and I am just some mistake, I don’t want to screw this up. I don’t know yet if Time can send me back to my death if it's not happy with my performance.

  The air’s golden above us. It grows thicker like honey and finally clears.

  We’re looking at a giant film in the air. I blink a bunch of times just to make sure I’m seeing it right. It’s a girl, standing in a carpeted room and facing a wall that’s made of a gray, matte material. Her back's to us. She’s dressed in a cream colored tunic with her rich, dark hair pinned up with a matching butterfly pin that sparkles under the light. The butterfly's beautiful: it must be made of stained church glass and rimmed with silver. It shines every color in the rainbow, amplifying the colors. The wings have sharp tips, too. If this girl wanted, she could take off her hair clip and use it as a weapon.

  She must be the Rogue we need to find and send back to her original time. But where are we seeing, exactly? I can't make out anything above us other than the plain, gray wall. Nerves flutter inside of me. If we don't know where she's from, we can't--

  5052.

  The year pops into my head out of nowhere. I just know. Is it some Timeless power? I'll have to ask Simon as soon as we're done with this.

  Above us, the girl peeks over her shoulder, eyes narrow and nervous. She has perfect olive skin and oddly enough, freckles. She can't be any older than I am. Clearly, she’s not supposed to be wherever she is. Her shoulders drop and her tunic ruffles. She turns away and walks up to the gray wall. She raises her arm and touches the space above her right shoulder.

  “Great. One of the Travelers again,” Isabel says. She doesn’t sound happy. “This is the fifth one Time has sent us after. I haven't seen this one before, though.”

  “Trav—“ I start.

  The surface of the wall changes at the girl's touch. A keypad with numbers appears on the wall as if it's a picture on a computer screen. I realize. The wall itself is like a giant version of the iPad thing that Monica uses sometimes for her homework and that I can never figure out.

  My mouth hangs open. That’s…cool.

  The girl puts in a code, steps back, and waits. Then, the wall shimmers and ripples.

  Turns to gold.

  It’s a rift. They’ve harnessed them in the year 5052 and this girl’s about to go through. Didn't Simon say something about this once—that in the future they do succeed with time travel, but never realize they're successful since all of them get their memories erased when they go through?

  Future Girl sucks in a breath and steps into the wall.

  Disappears. It’s exactly like the time that Simon took me through the first rift at the skate park. I cringe when I think of us plowing towards the wall, right for what I feared would be a major collision.

  "Okay," Simon says, raising his hand to his forehead. "Where did she go to? Hopefully she just came to the Hub. That's easy."

  The scene above us blurs, realigns, and snaps back into focus.

  “Um…” I start. I'm frozen. I never expected this.

  Future Girl is standing right outside Trenton High School.

  By the gym doors. On the sidewalk where Monica and I stand during lunch sometimes. She eyes the parking lot, scanning, hunting for something. The sun shines off her butterfly hair clip, blinding me for a second.

  And then the image is gone. The air turns gold again, fills the top of the dome for a second, and clears.

  “That’s it,” Isabel says. “That's why Time put the four of us together. We all know Trenton High School better than any others here. Julia and Simon. That girl went to the time that you two are staying in. Now we have to go and find her.”

  * * * * *

  “Why on earth would someone from the year 5000 come to Trenton High School?” I ask as we walk quickly down the crystal corridor. “This doesn't seem like a coincidence to me.”

  “It doesn't to me, either.” Simon squeezes my hand in his. Rifts wave as we pass. We walk far ahead of Isabel and Frank. I keep my arm around Simon’s so he doesn’t turn back and plow into Frank again, as much as I’d like that. And I don’t want to look at Frank. Now isn’t the time to plot revenge.

  But he killed me brother…he killed my father…

  Keep walking.

  Just keep going. Don’t look back.

  “This girl we’re after will have no memory of her real time,” Simon tells me. We walk faster, close to a run. “That’s what happens to mortals when they go through to another time. Her memories will come back as soon as she’s home, so she’ll be fine. She'll just think her trip was a failure, like all the other scientists who have tried to use rifts.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say, because Frank and Isabel’s footsteps are coming up behind us, slow and businesslike. They’re not talking. I can feel the tension cloud they’re bringing and I want away from it. “Will the rift dump us in another part of town?”

  “Not likely. Since Time's got us on a mission, it'll probably put us right where we need to be.” He points at the one visible plaque, hanging above the Trenton rift. The time on it reads about twenty minutes later than we left it. Maybe the time there's still going forward to us due to our assignment. It's another thing I'll ask Simon about.

  The trip back to Trenton isn’t as bad this time, but maybe it's because we're in a hurry and I don't have the chance to get nervous about it. We fall through the golden scream, but before I have time to cry out, I’m standing in the parking lot of the high school. I catch my breath and face Simon. There’s no sign of the rift that was swishing and whooshing over by the football field bleachers. It’s already dissolved.

  “Where is she?” I ask. The lot's empty now.

  “She was standing right here in the parking lot,” Simon says. He scans the area, but there’s nothing going on except for the school buses rolling up to get ready for the end of the school day. The driver of the first one doesn’t even look at us as she passes and the bus hisses to a stop. The doors to the Gym wing come open, and one of the janitors props the door open with a trash can to prepare for the flow of students. He looks at us, shakes his head, and turns away. We're kids ducking out five minutes early. We blend right in. No wonder Time chose the four of us for this.

  “Maybe she went into the school,” I say. “What do we do when we find her? Take her and go find another rift?”

  I don't catch the electric feeling of another rift bubbling up behind me until it's too late.

  “Don’t you remember what we did with you, Julia?”

  It’s Isabel. I face her. She and Frank stand there, leaning against the side of the school. The last remnants of gold fade around them. Frank’s all cool, leaning against the brick with his sagging jeans and punk band T-shirt that at one point, I liked. I can't help but wonder if he's really trying to keep as much distance between him and Simon as possible. I like that thought.

  Simon tenses next to me. “You had better go and look for her right now, Frank. Far away from us.” He's got his fists tight. Simon hikes up his pants. It might really be time for another brawl.

  “Yes,” I add. If we're going to find Future Girl, splitting up is the only way.

  “Anyway,” Isabel butts in. She steps in front of Frank. “Once we find this girl, we will need to open a rift back to 5052 and have her go in. That's what w
e did with you, Julia, at the restaurant. We need to make sure there are no witnesses.” She speaks quickly. She's anxious to be away. “With four of us, we can open one in seconds.”

  “Good to know.” It is good to know. I can open a rift straight to my brother once we figure out how to keep him safe. Right to my father. I just have to learn how to do it first. This will be a great chance to practice, now that it seems like we're not sending Future Girl back into any danger.

  Simon's breathing heavily next to me. “You’re right,” he says, keeping his gaze on the school. He shifts leg to leg. “We need to find that girl. She’ll be drawing a lot of stares when everyone comes out of class with what she’s wearing. Why can’t the Travelers dress for the time that they go to?”

  “Maybe we can tell people she’s from another school, visiting for a drama club,” I say. “School lets out in—“

  The bell rings, echoing across the parking lot and into the air. And then, chatter grows louder and louder from inside the school. It floats out the gym entrance. In seconds, the halls will fill and Future Girl's in there somewhere.

  Isabel darts for the entrance. “Come on. She couldn’t have gone anywhere else. We’ve got go catch her before she gets on a bus or something. She won't know where she's going.”

  The three of us run after her. Frank runs in front of me, like he’s trying to catch up with Isabel, but then Simon elbows him and he goes crashing into the doorway with a loud bang. I run past him. I can’t help but smile when I hear him seethe with pain.

  The halls crowd with teachers and students. The first already brush past us and out to the buses. I hope we don’t run into Monica. I’m going to have a hard time explaining why Simon and I are running around with Isabel and Frank, unless Frank does decide the splitting up is a good idea. That would be hard enough even if there was no time travel involved. Monica and I never fit in with their gang in the first place, and after what happened at the dance with Frank, she’ll never expect us to be within ten feet of each other again.

  I stop at the corner and flatten against the wall to avoid the band kids, who parade past with their instruments. Monica doesn’t take this hallway to go home, since we both usually walk and go out the science wing doors. Frank and Isabel are coming up behind us. Frank leans to the side to avoid a saxophone. “Why don’t we split up?” I shout to be heard over the noise. “Simon and me one way. You two down by the cafeteria.”

  I wait for Isabel or Frank to protest. But Frank takes Isabel’s arm and they disappear around the corner to cut through the gym.

  “Really good idea,” Simon says. He's still smoldering. “I’m glad they're gone. What awful luck, having to work with them.”

  “Let's find that girl.” I turn the corner and dart down the main hallway of the school. “We should follow everyone's stares.”

  No one gives us a second glance as we weave through traffic. Simon and I are regulars here. A couple that everyone knows.

  But why did Future Girl come here? It makes no sense. Even though I know better, I can’t help but wonder if it has to do with me. I'm the mistake, after all.

  “I don't see her down that way,” Simon glances down the art hallway. “We might need to look in the classrooms.”

  “What happens if we don't find her and send her back?” I ask. I smash against the corner to avoid some cheerleaders and a few teachers. I wait for them to pass before I speak again. “You don't have a look on your face that makes me feel better.”

  “We don't really have a time limit,” he says. “But if she messes something up, that could cause Time to punish us. It can literally zap us into our quarters and we won't be able to escape for what feels like years at times.”

  “Now we'd better split up,” I say. Now I understand why Frank and Isabel were so desperate to catch me before I changed history. Of course they wouldn't want to spend time in their quarters, whatever they are. All Timeless come from tragedies where they were supposed to die. They must be no different.

  Simon jogs down the art hall to check the classrooms and I run for the lit hall. It's where Monica's locker is, but we can't wait. I'm not going back to that horrible memory Titanic where there's people with flesh falling off them waiting for me. I don't think Frank and Isabel want to go beck to wherever they're from, either. Not that I care all that much about Frank. He probably deserves it.

  I round the corner.

  There.

  My heart leaps.

  Future Girl's standing by some lockers in her cream tunic with her back turned to me. Her butterfly hair clip glows like there's a living rainbow inside. Mr. Nevins gives her a long stare as he passes. Even Wendy, Queen of the Snob Squad, slows to admire it. The butterfly's head blinks with a blue light that's almost hypnotizing.

  And Future Girl's talking to someone. It's a dark girl with long, curly black hair.

  I lean to the side.

  Monica.

  My heart about stops.

  Monica glances around the hallway like she's looking for someone and shakes her head. Future Girl waves her arms a bit and keeps talking. She found Monica because Monica was here standing still, waiting for me and easy to approach. That's it.

  She must be lost. After all, this girl can't remember anything since she stepped through the rift and wound up here in Trenton. I know that feeling, that terror, all too well.

  I can help her. I have to.

  I walk up to her. I’m close enough to see the patterns on the butterfly’s wings. Monica looks over the girl’s shoulder and at me. She raises her eyebrows. I can read volumes in that look. She’s got no clue what’s going on or why this girl’s talking to her.

  Then the girl turns, following Monica's gaze.

  Her eyes are intense. Brown, the color of mocha. If she's shocked to see me standing there, she doesn’t show it.

  “Um…hello?” I ask. I can't reveal too much in front of Monica. This isn't going to be easy. I'll need to get her to the others without Monica following. “Are you lost? I haven't seen you in this school before.”

  “She was--” Monica starts.

  Future Girl clears her throat and pulls at her tunic. “Julia.”

  I flinch. This girl knows my name. Knows me. It's not possible. She’s from thousands of years in the future. Even if she did have a mission to come here and find me, she should have gotten a memory wipe from landing in a different time.

  I swallow. “How?" That's all I can manage.

  “What's going on?” Monica asks. Her eyes are huge. She stands there, looking between the two of us. The hall's quieting, leaving the three of us alone here.

  The girl takes a step towards me. She’s fearless. She clears her throat and shakes her head like she’s trying to remember what to say. “I am sorry if I have a little bit of trouble speaking to you. I am not very used to this language. I would like to talk to you, Julia. That is all.”

  She has an accent, but it's different than Isabel's. Future Girl pronounces her l's like h's. It's like nothing I've heard before. But her words are clear, rehearsed almost.

  “You know who this is?” Monica steps closer. “Is she from your old school? She was asking me for you.” Her words are careful. As far as Monica knows, I still don't remember anything that happened more than a year ago and she doesn't want to reveal that to just anyone. It's a secret that we keep right along with Monica's abusive past with her father. My faked record says I'm from Ithaca High School, wherever that is, so Monica's just handed me my cover for this.

  Thank you, Monica.

  “Yes. She is,” I say, forcing a smile and facing the two of them. “I remember. We both worked on that play together and did a lot of things for the drama club.” It doesn't hurt to explain the costume while I'm at it. I face Future Girl, hoping that she catches that we need to put on an act. “That one play, remember? What was your name again?” I laugh. I'm nervous. I have to know why she's seeking me so I'll need to get her in private.

  The girl waits for a group of straggler
s to pass us. The hall’s emptying out. Everyone’s getting on the buses. Monica still waits, books in hand. "You were in the drama club? I never knew that." She's full of hope, hope that my real memory's coming back.

  “My name is Arnelia," Future Girl says, smiling. “You—“

  “Hey!”

  I turn.

  Isabel runs towards us with a fake smile, trying to look all friendly. It’s a lie. Isabel’s just putting on the act so Future Girl doesn’t run away. Not that she’s going to, of course. She's found me. I'm the one she's taken this trip for.

  Frank must be right. I’m such a huge accident that even people thousands of years in the future know about me. I feel like some museum exhibit.

  Out of all the places this girl could have gone, she sought out me.

  Isabel catches up with us. Faces me and Monica. “How are you doing?” Her question is so full of sugar that I have to gag.

  Now poor Monica’s really confused. She takes a step back, then smiles to cover it. “Is this someone else you went to your old school with?”

  Oh.

  Simon and I never restored Monica's memory of Frank and Isabel when he was doing his mind tricks on her. We were too focused on getting them to remember us. As far as everyone knows, Frank and Isabel have never been to Trenton High School before. When I tricked Time into taking me, the entire thing where Frank and Isabel came here to track me never happened.

  Yet here Isabel stands, all friendly with us. I wonder if she's forgotten that she now never went to school here.

  “Yes,” I answer Monica. Arnelia's still standing there, shifting foot to foot. I want to know what she wants to say to me. Dying to know, in fact, but she won't do it with Isabel here. I have to get her alone, and fast. “Isabel here was in the drama club at my old school, too.”

  “That's amazing!” Monica's glowing for me. “It's great to meet a couple of your old friends. How long did you go to school together?”

  “Five years.” Arnelia nods. There’s impatience underneath. The butterfly blinks again on the back of her head. “My name is Arnelia. Nice to meet you.” They shake hands and Arnelia faces me. Her gaze flits towards the bathroom door, then back to me again. We're thinking the same thing.

 

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