Rift (Rift Walkers #1)

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Rift (Rift Walkers #1) Page 11

by Elana Johnson


  Newt spins toward me, his gadgetry and graphs forgotten. His eyes are wide, and he immediately starts tapping on something in his location.

  “We lost your connection for five minutes, twenty-four seconds,” the Squad officer says. “Reason?”

  Oh, nothing. Just went through a time rift to talk to a girl who lives sixty years in the past. It’s fine. I’m awake and alive. I swallow hard.

  “I don’t know,” I say while Newt stares back at me, absolutely no help whatsoever. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

  “Would you like us to mark malfunction?”

  “Not really. I don’t think my Receiver malfunctioned.” If I admit to that, I’ll have to go in for electrical testing, and I don’t have time for that. “I did go downstairs and have a snack.”

  “Do you have a microwave?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you use it?”

  “Yeah,” I say, hoping the microwave will be something that could interfere with my signal.

  “Would you like us to mark household appliance interference?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Yes, let’s mark that.”

  “Confirmed. If you need no further assistance, this case will be closed.”

  “Perfect,” I say, and Newt’s shoulders visibly relax. The chat closes, and I wipe my hand across my face.

  “They knew I was gone,” I tell him. “Asleep status doesn’t work with rift-walking.”

  “I’ll research it,” he says. “Sorry.”

  I glance back to the bathroom, where Saige’s note should be waiting. I step toward it and flip on the light. The top drawer in the linen cupboard mocks me. I want to rip it open and reach into the back, where Saige said she’d hide the note. I stand there, breathing heavily and wondering about a grandmotherly Saige. Would she have memories of me showing up in her bedroom? I’m not sure how the threads of time work, and what she’ll remember and what she won’t.

  I suddenly curse myself for not spending every available moment in my dad’s meetings. Time travel is an advanced science, one that requires a lot of technology. Surely he knows a thing or two about it. I should ask him if I could attend his conferences again. He’d like that, and I have a feeling I need to do more to keep him happy. He wants to talk when he gets home, and right now, I’m hella happy he hasn’t returned yet.

  I dismiss the thoughts of my dad as I step forward and pull open the drawer. I cautiously reach past the washcloths and hand towels my mom meticulously folds. My hand meets the wood at the back of the drawer, but I feel no paper. My fingers scrabble around, but there’s nothing.

  Could Saige have ignored me? I don’t know her at all. Like, not even a little bit. Maybe she thinks I’m a hallucination, or dead, as she’d asked.

  She’s probably telling her parents about me right now. I’m desperate to search the Circuit and see if I can find anything about Saige…I don’t even know her last name!

  She had brown hair, I know that. Wide, green eyes. Fair skin with freckles. Her voice had come out high, but that won’t help me. The Circuit won’t have Voice: high as a blasted search option. I should’ve taken more thought to get her vitals, maybe taken some snaps with my cybernetics, before I blitzed back here.

  The problem was, I didn’t know if I’d be blitzing anywhere again. While going through the rift hadn’t hurt, the thought of not being able to return was paralyzing.

  Still is. I’m not sure I’ll be able to visit Saige again. I can’t communicate with her; communication through time only works forward. And there’s no stupid note.

  I remove the washcloths and hand towels while Newt yells at me from the bedroom. I call to him to shut his pie hole while I look for something. He falls silent. Thankfully. The last thing I need is Mom coming in right now.

  I pause to listen, but the house is as still as it should be in the middle of the night. I can’t help but think of last night when I was kneeling in the grass and looking down a window well to a secret entrance.

  Just like then, I hold my palm up and shine the blue light from my Receiver into the drawer. I see nothing. I run my fingers along the edges, and in the corner on the top, I snag something.

  The paper crinkles as I remove it. With my heart hammering, I read from the aged page. Who did you tell about me?

  I have no idea what this means. I don’t even know if it’s from Saige. I crumple the note and reach into the drawer again. Sure enough, I pull out another yellowed paper, this one with Saige’s name on it.

  June 3, 2013 freaks me out. Big time.

  I’m still staring at it when someone clears their throat. I spin, the lights suddenly blazing much too bright this late at night.

  Dad stands in the doorway, his arms folded. “Price?”

  Any excuse I might have fades into the deep recesses of my mind. I have the wherewithal to shove the note into my pocket as I take a step back. I don’t speak, because my mouth takes direction from my brain and I’m still reeling.

  “Price?” he repeats, as if he needs me to confirm my identity. “What are you doing?” He scans me from head to toe. I notice his fists are clenched. Still, I can’t think of anything to say.

  “Why are you fully dressed?” he asks next, and his voice drops in volume, making the question sound more sinister.

  “Who were you talking to on your Link?” he asks, eyeing the washcloths and towels strewn on the floor.

  “No one,” I say, relieved I can finally answer one of his questions.

  “I heard another voice. More mature than yours.” Dad is unyielding, his light blue eyes piercing mine and refusing to look somewhere else. “Is someone here?”

  I put both hands in my pockets, smashing the note into a tight wad inside my fist. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “You weren’t talking to someone?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t sneak out, did you?” He scans my clothes again. As I repay the favor, I realize he’s fully dressed too. Same dark jeans as yesterday morning. Same foil jacket. Same heavy boots. He didn’t take a change of clothes into the city? I blink to cover up my examination of him.

  “I never left the house.” It isn’t a lie. The rift is geographically tied to this location. Stepping from my bedroom to Saige’s proves that.

  “Have you been near my office?”

  “No.” The word comes quick, sure.

  Dad glances over his shoulder. He flicks his hand in a gesture I don’t understand, but it seems to distract him from grilling me for answers I can’t give. He turns, casting a thoughtful look in my direction.

  “How did things go at the Bureau?” I ask, hoping to deflect another question.

  Dad sighs like he’s carrying a heavy load. “Not as well as I’d hoped. This Black Hat identity is slick.”

  My mouth goes dry. “You’re—you’re looking for the Black Hat?” That fact that he’s staring right into the Black Hat’s eyes is hella ironic. Yet, I can’t make myself smile at the notion.

  “Everyone at the Bureau is looking for him,” Dad says. “That flick didn’t implant itself into the Ad Agency.”

  “Of course not,” I agree, semi-surprised I got my voice to work at all. I take a step back, as if that will make me appear less guilty.

  “Okay, time for bed,” he says, “and clean this stuff up.” He takes a couple of steps into my bedroom, but turns back. “We still need to talk. First thing in the morning, in my office,” and there’s no arguing when he speaks in that tone.

  An hour later, when I’m sure Dad is snoring softly, Newt analyzes the note from Saige. He claims he can date it with some fancy homemade device he’s got. I don’t doubt him. He took me through a rift and back.

  “What do you do again?” I ask, even though I know Newt is an alternate identity.

  Newt slides me a sly look. “You know I can’t tell you that. Besides, it’s nothing interesting.”

  Every new gadget he produces screams of interesting work. “What does a guy have to do to get a
non-interesting job like yours?” I ask. I’ll do my senior project on historical sites of Castle Pines so no one will think twice about me researching the history of this old house. But I really want to end up where Newt works.

  “Privacy sector,” he says, leaning over to examine the paper with a piece of glass pressed to his eye. “I know everything about a lot of people. Stuff I wish I didn’t.”

  I nod and remind him to keep his voice down. I’ve closed and locked my doors, even going so far as shoving a towel against the floor so the faint glow from Newt’s hologram won’t bleed into the hallway.

  I’ve locked the spare bedroom door, and the door from that bedroom into the bathroom. Dad can get in any door in the house with his fingerprint, but the sensor emits a high-pitched sound before the lock disengages. Newt had heard the noise and managed to disappear before Dad had entered my bedroom, so he hadn’t been seen.

  “Are you pro-privacy?” I ask, though I know he fed my idea to Gustav. That was the arrangement between me and Newt—I get to jam, he gets my ideas. Still, I want to know what he really thinks, not what he’s done because of our deal.

  “I’m pro whatever pays the bills,” Newt says.

  I let the subject drop, thinking that Newt could probably pay a lot of bills if he were the one to turn in the Black Hat. He knows who I am, the only other person besides Heath—well, and Soda and Cascade now. Would Newt betray me if the price was right?

  “This is going to take some time, Ryerson,” Newt says, reverting back to using my last name. It’s how I know the excitement has worn off—that, or he’s not pleased about me inquiring after his job and privacy opinions. “Get some sleep. We’ll catch up tomorrow night.”

  I don’t argue. He winks away, leaving me alone in my room with only the hum from my Link station. Except I know I’m not alone.

  Dad is never very far from my thoughts. As I finally sink into bed, I still feel his eyes on me.

  An hour later, I’m awakened by knocking on my window. I dream about the knocking for a good five minutes before I realize it’s real. Heath isn’t pleased it took me so long to let him in.

  “You must be dead tired,” he says. “You didn’t answer any of my chats.”

  “Sorry,” I mumble, falling back into bed. “I’m hella tired.”

  “So Coop?” he asks. “My mom cried all day again today.”

  I manage to open my eyes and focus on him. He looks terrible, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He looks as exhausted as I feel.

  “I don’t know if I can jam tonight,” I say. “I’ll screw it up.”

  He nods. “I haven’t slept more than a few hours either.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “We should probably wait until tomorrow night.”

  “Deal,” I say. “Why was your mom crying? Did something else happen?”

  “I guess she went down to the Bureau. Did you know the Hoods have an office there?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer that yes, of course I know the Hoods have an office at the Bureau. They’re time cops.

  “Anyway, she asked about him, and they basically told her she’d be lucky if she ever saw him again. Period.” He pins me with a desperate look. “We’ve got to find him and get him out of wherever he is.”

  I’m already nodding. “We’ll find him,” I promise, hoping I can keep it. “Harsh punishment for rift-walking. To never see your family again?”

  Heath looks away fast and wipes his nose. I close my eyes so he can cry without me watching. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess the Hoods told Mom that they’re punishing him to the full extent of the law. They haven’t found the other three walkers, so Cooper’s taking all the heat.” He sniffles a little. “They let her see a transcript of one of their interrogations. He won’t tell them who the other walkers are, and they’ve frozen all our financials. We can’t even buy bread.”

  I don’t know what to say. Fear pulses through me with every beat of my heart. If I got caught rift-walking, that’s what would happen to me. Completely cut off from my family and friends. All their financials frozen. Life would be craptastic for me, but for them too.

  I can’t breathe. I can’t believe I did such a stupid thing. “I can’t believe Cooper’s been rift-walking,” I say out loud.

  “I guess he was desperate,” Heath says. “You know my dad’s been out of an employment contract for almost a year.”

  “Yeah, but….” I trail off. I knew Heath’s dad didn’t have work, I guess I just never realized their situation had gotten so bad. “Hasn’t Coop been walking for a while? I mean, that flick is five years old.”

  “He told the Hoods he was only a temp. He refuses to name who he works for, any walks he’s done, or who any of the other walkers are. The Hood told Mom they’re going to make an example of him.”

  “I’m sorry, blood,” I say, finding there’s little else to be said. Heath stays for a while longer, and then he climbs out the window and heads home. I lie awake for a long time, thinking of the punishments I’d face if anyone knew I’d rift-walked.

  I vow to never do it again. Sure, I’ve done illegal things before—heck, I do them all the time. But rift-walking seems like way too big of a risk. Even for me.

  Price

  THE NEXT MORNING, I’M STILL asleep when my Link rings. The song blaring from my flatpanel tells me everything I need to know. It’s Cascade.

  Instantly, I’m not tired, though I’ve only slept for five hours. I never changed into my pajamas, so that’s a plus when I answer the Link with my holoswitch plugged in.

  “Hey, Cas,” I say nonchalantly, straightening my hair and thanking my lucky stars the Link can’t transmit morning breath.

  She appears, all light and see-through smiles. Her hair spikes up in crazy just-slept-on angles as she leans forward. Little crinkles form in the corners of her dark eyes, and her facial pattern hasn’t been activated yet. Six silver hoops I could fit my fist through dangle from her earlobes.

  I lick my lips and fist my hands in my lap. I should’ve asked her out during social time, while we were holding hands. But with the jam, and the zip-lining, and the soccer game with Heath and Soda lurking nearby, an appropriate time hadn’t presented itself. I’d spent yesterday trying on clothes, planning with Newt, doing chores for my mom, and gearing up for the rift-walk. And tonight, Heath and I will be jamming to find Cooper.

  Looking at Cascade all freshly rested on-screen, and with the adrenaline of the rift-walk still buzzing through my body, I gather my wits and steel my nerves. This is as in-person as it’s going to get.

  “So, you want to get together this afternoon or something?” I look down, hoping she won’t see the embarrassment in my eyes.

  “Just you and me?” Her voice sounds hopeful, but I don’t dare to look at her to confirm it.

  I clear my throat. “Well, yeah. If you want.”

  “This isn’t a thing with you and Heath, right?”

  I glance up and grin. “This is just you and me.”

  “Awesome.” She smiles, and it looks genuine. She relaxes away from the camera, and I catch a glimpse of a turquoise tank. “We could have an early dinner. Work on the senior project after.”

  I’m glad she suggested something, because I had nothing in mind. “Sure. Sounds great.”

  “That diner that serves breakfast all day? Sunnyside Up!?”

  The tension in my hands releases at my success. “Yeah, I like that place. Say four o’clock?”

  “Four o’clock,” she confirms. Then she starts chatting about her senior project—she’s doing hers on the rise of technology over the past century.

  I tell her I might have some of my dad’s old documents she can look at. I think of the black notebook, but I don’t mention it. I want to finish reading it first. I should have time before I have to meet Cas at the diner.

  She wants to come over and check out what we’ve got. I tell her “No problem,” even though I can think of at least a dozen problems, two of which stand guard outside Dad’s rooms
. “We can swing by here after we eat.”

  She hasn’t stopped smiling through the whole conversation, and before she signs off, she says, “Can’t wait, Price. See you this afternoon.”

  I drift away from my Link station, surprised at how easy it was to ask her out. Then my legs and arms feel weak, and I sink onto my bed. I hope I’ll be able to think of something more interesting than school to discuss during dinner.

  I better get my room—and the bathroom—cleaned up if there’s going to be a girl in the vicinity. Not to mention the tricky little task of making sure Dad doesn’t embarrass me with his non-stop chatter about technological development—even if that is Cascade’s subject.

  While I shower, I run through the day’s headlines—the Bureau security techs still have no clue how the rift flick got transplanted into the Agency’s system. I breathe a sigh of relief into the water. They know I’m responsible for the hack, but they don’t know how I did it—or where to find me.

  The flick went out as the mandatory message for every citizen in Oregon for the entire twenty-four hour period. The vidlogs have gone crazy, and now its not just teens who are posting, but their parents as well.

  Gustav is demanding a deposition of the Time Keeper, and I watch a flick where he calls for the complete removal of the entire Advertising system—including the data collection—until the issues surrounding the hack can be resolved. He knows as well as I do that something like that could take years. Gustav and his group of Privatize citizens are loud; they might just get their way.

  I can’t help smiling into the warm water as I scrub my face, as the same Time shouldn’t be messed with ad from yesterday replays. Apparently the Agency admins have looped one ad until things can be re-situated.

  While I get dressed, I ponder the reasons I can use to convince my mom that Cascade and I need to study upstairs, alone. Mom will be bloodhound-ish if it’s not school related. Dad won’t pay as much attention, unless Cas starts asking him all kinds of questions about fiber optics—but I’m sure he’ll be back at the Bureau trying to discover how the Black Hat got into his “secure” system.

 

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