by Ryan Dalton
“Thank you,” he said. “Thanks for doing this.”
He cast around inside for something eloquent and meaningful to say, but found nothing. Plain gratitude would have to do, then.
“Okay.” Standing straighter, he held the watch in the center of their circle. “Here we go.”
He touched EXECUTE.
The bubble deposited them on the exact spot Valentine had appeared before. They sprang into action, splitting into pairs and slipping to their cover behind the panels.
Malcolm unlocked his phone and tapped out a group text. They had agreed to run silently for the entire mission, not knowing if even a whisper might give them away.
Malcolm: hold for distraction.
Reaching into his jacket, he withdrew a tiny RC truck and handheld remote—a childhood remnant that he’d rediscovered during the move. He set the toy on the floor and flicked at the controls. Its rubber wheels pointed left, then right, then crept forward with a mechanical whir. Malcolm nodded, satisfied. If all went to plan, he’d be able to grab the good scientist’s attention and lead him downstairs.
Now to gauge where he needed to drive this thing. Heart hammering in his ears, Malcolm peeked around the panel’s edge. Computers were there, lab tables were there, and the scientist was—
Wait a minute.
Malcolm spun back around and tapped out another message.
Malcolm: no one there. only computers.
The group glanced at each other, at a loss for what to do. No one had expected this. In fact, they’d assumed one of them would be spotted eventually and planned for it.
Even a mad scientist had to sleep sometime, Malcolm supposed. So, do they wait for their enemy to move? Do they check the lower level to see if they’re truly alone? Valentine noticed his hesitation.
Valentine: already here. keep going. one guards, others search.
Winter: that works
Malcolm: ok. 5 minute intervals. Fred first watch?
They tiptoed from their hiding places and approached the far side, where enough equipment was active to bathe the area in soft light. Fred crept to a place halfway between the tables and the staircase. The spot left him in shadows but able to see or hear anyone coming up the stairs and give a warning.
The multitude of cobbled-together equipment reminded Malcolm of Frankenstein’s laboratory. He recognized most of the gadgets, but they’d been reworked into technology with uses he could only imagine. Whoever this man was, his knowledge had to be immense.
Valentine moved to the wall and tapped a keyboard attached to a rack of computer servers. A giant screen came to life, and she typed more commands. Winter floated around snapping pictures with her phone.
Malcolm chose a lab table to begin his own search. One side was littered with handheld tools and gadgets—cell phones, tablets, radios—all gutted, rewired, and conjoined with other devices; a silver tube with buttons, dials, and what looked like some kind of emitter on the end; even a few everyday tools like pliers and a soldering gun. Next to the table sat a glass-topped laser cutter on a wheeled stand.
In the center of the table, one small object drew Malcolm’s eye—a pair of round, black-framed spectacles. Why would something so ordinary be here?
Pushing aside questions, he snatched up the frames, slid them on and held his breath. Nothing happened. The lenses didn’t even change his vision. It was just like looking through a window.
Winter appeared by his side and snapped a photo of the table. Malcolm flinched at the bright flash, blinking twice in quick succession.
The glasses sprang to life and glowing outlines formed around every object on the table. Malcolm stared in amazement as data scrolled through the air next to each gadget, telling basic descriptions of their uses. He thought about the watch, how it had been activated by a simple touch. Had his blinking activated these?
He focused on the silver tube and blinked twice. The glasses overlaid the device with a grid, which broke into pieces to reveal every component inside. Next to each piece appeared detailed data about origin, core technology and application, and new uses it could be adapted to.
Must be some kind of active database, Malcolm figured, built to scan and break down technology. The perfect tool for someone wanting to build things that shouldn’t exist yet.
A muffled gasp broke his concentration.
Valentine: Found it!
Malcolm reluctantly left the glasses on the table and moved to her side. Winter joined them as Valentine gestured wildly at what she’d uncovered. He leaned closer to read the screen.
His heart skipped a beat. She had been right!
Every scientist keeps a record of their work, Valentine had stated during their planning. If that’s what he is, then we’ve got to find it.
A detailed timeline scrolled across the screen with dates, locations, experiments and results, and what could only be described as egomaniacal ravings about his genius and the things he would prove to them. Malcolm gripped his sister’s shoulder, mirroring her excitement. This could be the key to everything.
Fred: 5 min done. Next?
Malcolm indicated for her to keep working and went to take Fred’s place. The tall athlete moved to the opposite side of the lab table he had occupied, where an iPad rested with its casing cracked open. Wires sprouted from it to connect with a flat, shiny surface in the middle of the table. Fred picked up the tablet and tapped the screen.
Malcolm leaned against the wall, letting the darkness absorb him. His eyes shifted constantly between his friends and the staircase, and he strained his ears toward the slightest sound. If anyone ambushed them, it would not be on his guard.
His stomach flipped at what they were doing. Yet, watching his friends as they worked, he couldn’t help but feel proud. The situation had escalated from weird to insane, yet here they were, putting themselves on the line. How many others would do the same?
Fred: Guys
Fred looked up from the iPad with a bleak expression.
Fred: Watch this
With a tap on his screen, the shiny flat surface on the table lit up. Like a large-scale version of the pocket watch, it emitted particles of light that danced and spun into a moving image.
Eighteen inches above the surface, the lights resolved into words: Simulation 8, Vent Creation. Below them appeared a model of Emmett’s Bluff and the surrounding landscape. They hovered motionless, like a three-dimensional photograph made of light.
Twelve miniature columns of light burst from the simulated ground. Buildings crumbled, streets imploded, and fires broke out across the city. Smaller particles spun around the columns and were slowly sucked in, just like they had witnessed at the warehouse. In the center of it all, a tiny house lit like a flare.
The beams disappeared, leaving simulated carnage behind. New words floated above the town. Projected Destruction—19%. Smaller text scrolled beneath the percentage, detailing elements of damage to buildings, water mains, gas lines, and power.
Winter: That’s exactly what happened
Malcolm silently agreed. The simulation had guessed perfectly, down to the percentage, what would happen when those beams hit the town. It had called the craters “vents.” What was being vented, and why?
Fred: Wait. More.
Fred tapped again and the image subtly changed. The town remained damaged, but fire and smoke faded away. The overhead caption broke into glowing particles and resolved into Simulation 9, Final Jump.
The house glowed again, growing brighter until it became difficult to look at. Malcolm held up a hand to partially shield his face. Columns of light rushed through the twelve craters, lancing higher into the sky. Again, particles spun around them as more of the town vaporized.
This time, the beams didn’t stop. They grew taller and brighter, taking on a life of their own and rushing from the craters in a torrent. They widened more a
nd more, devouring streets and buildings, then entire neighborhoods. In the center of it all, the house with no doors shone like the sun. The simulated ground around it buckled.
A massive wave of light exploded from the house. The wave swept through the town and surrounding country, annihilating everything in its path. When it dispersed, left in its wake was . . . nothing. Emmett’s Bluff had been razed to the ground. New words appeared.
Projected Destruction—100%
Malcolm felt his knees turn to jelly. He pressed a hand against the wall for support. They had finally found the truth, and it was far worse than he’d imagined.
If they failed, Emmett’s Bluff and everyone in it would disappear.
Chapter 19
Winter: oh god
Valentine: he’s going to kill EVERYONE??
Fred tapped the tablet. The image broke into spinning particles and faded, leaving only dim light. Malcolm silently thanked him for turning it off.
Fred: that’s messed up
The magnitude overwhelmed Malcolm. They knew the stakes now, and he wished they didn’t. Could four high schoolers really handle this? Shouldn’t they just—no. He squashed on the thought—the stakes didn’t matter now, and neither did the odds. There was no going back.
Wind gusted outside and the old house groaned. The sound yanked Malcolm from his thoughts, and he turned back toward the darkened staircase. His guard duty wasn’t over, and the longer they stayed, the bigger the risk of—
A tall, dark-eyed man stood two feet from him, yawning and rubbing sleep from one eye. He stopped short and his other eye widened in shock. For an instant, they stared at each other.
The man leaped forward and swung his fist.
“Here!” Malcolm yelled.
He backpedaled as the blow caught him in the shoulder, spinning him into the lab table with shocking force. The table tilted sideways and dumped its contents onto the floor.
The tall man loomed overhead, fist raised. Malcolm lifted his foot to kick out. An iPad soared from the darkness to smack his attacker in the face, and he stumbled back clutching his nose.
Malcolm scrambled away and put the table between them. His friends were at his back now, and he heard them rushing to put their emergency plan into action.
“Hey!” Winter called.
Malcolm heard an electrical sizzling. Right on cue. Last minute, he’d asked Winter to bring the stun gun her mother made her carry. Now it hovered precariously close to the large rack of computers.
Valentine grabbed cables that snaked from the rack, wire cutters in hand, and Fred stuffed a length of power conduit into the laser cutter. The man took in the scene and stood his ground, glaring at them.
“You want to keep all this safe.” Malcolm held up his hands and backed away. “We just want to leave. So let’s trade.”
The dark-eyed scientist gave Malcolm a reappraising look. Was that a hint of admiration? It lasted an instant, then split into a malicious smile. A booming laugh exploded from him, and his hands came together.
Malcolm noticed metallic bracers peeking from underneath his long sleeves. Black and bronze with intricate scrollwork, they covered half of each forearm. The man twisted his left bracer and something beeped.
“Spotlights!” he yelled.
Ceiling compartments opened and high-powered LED lamps lowered into the room. A lamp oriented on each of their faces and blazed to life. Malcolm cried out and covered his eyes.
He felt himself shoved to the floor, pain blossoming in his side, and opened one watery eye in time to see their enemy move like the wind. In a blur of motion he kicked Fred square in the chest, smacked Valentine away from the computers, and knocked the stun gun from Winter’s hand.
Valentine and Fred hit the floor. The scientist gripped Winter by the throat and shoved her against the computer rack, his face twisted into a snarl.
Their clever plan had been busted in seconds! Malcolm tore the watch from his pocket and opened the cover. This might be their only chance now, but for it to work he had to keep his distance.
Winter kicked and scratched at her assailant’s iron grip, to no avail. Panic and tears filled her eyes. Malcolm willed her to hang on—just a few seconds, that’s all he needed!
Valentine grabbed a length of thick pipe, charged forward and swung with all her might. The pipe bounced off their foe’s back with a clang. The scientist spared her a brief glance and casually smacked her to the floor again.
Malcolm’s fear spiked and he forced himself to refocus on the watch. One more adjustment and . . . there! He closed the lid.
BLAM!
Fred regained his feet, pointing a 9mm pistol at the ceiling. What was he doing with a gun?!
“Drop her, fool!”
The man huffed and turned back to Winter. Fred’s eyes caught fire. Rushing forward, he poked the gun into his target’s back.
“I’ll do it! Drop her!”
Malcolm leapt to his feet. “No, don’t!”
In a blur, the scientist dropped Winter and spun. One hand grabbed the gun, while the other tossed Fred with bone-shaking force. Flipping the weapon, he pointed it back at Fred and pulled the trigger.
Malcolm’s insides and everything around him slowed to a crawl. Holding the jewel outward, he lifted the watch and aimed toward the gun. A cloud of gunpowder slowly billowed from the barrel. Deep inside, Malcolm felt a shift as power surged through the watch and a blue-beam sliced through the air. He stared in amazement as it crossed directly in front of the outstretched gun.
The boom of the shot rippled through the room and Fred’s expression began to morph into the terror of realization. The bullet exploded from the barrel, collided with the crackling beam, and disappeared in a bubble of warped time and space.
The flow of time returned to normal.
Fred crashed into the laser cutter and fell in a tangle. Valentine scrambled over to help Winter, who had crumpled gasping to the floor.
The scientist ignored them. He turned an accusing glare on Malcolm, and at the device in his hand. Now they had his attention.
“Yeah, you know what this is.” He pushed aside his own shock and pointed the jewel at their enemy. “Drop the gun or you’ll end up back in the Middle Ages.”
He gestured to a stool. Grudgingly, the scientist let the gun clatter to the floor and sat. In the light, Malcolm saw him clearly now—lean and wiry, with tanned skin and close-cropped black hair, he could have come from anywhere.
Malcolm beckoned the group over, wanting them close to the watch, their one remaining lifeline. Valentine helped a teary-eyed Winter to his side, followed by Fred after he retrieved the gun.
“Middle Ages,” their enemy said in a guttural accent. Was it German? “Been zere before. Perhaps ve vill show to you one day, yes?” A malevolent smile crept over his face.
Malcolm’s thoughts screeched to a halt. Did he say—
“We?” Valentine asked.
The man spat at her. “You vere here before! Still, you learn nothing.”
Malcolm barely heard, his mind caught in a whirlwind of hazy memories. The sphere of light. A man cloaked in shadows, with inhuman strength and speed. Clearest of all, he heard the scream of a thousand voices in his head.
YYYOOOUUU WWWIIILLLLLL NNNOOOTTT IIINNNTTTEEERRRFFFEEERRREEE WWWIIITTTHHH UUUSSS.
“Lift your left sleeve and take off the bracer,” Malcolm said. The man’s eyes narrowed at him. “Do it!”
Slowly, the man complied. Malcolm stared at the exposed forearm, and his heart dropped into his stomach. All this time, he thought he’d been figuring things out. He thought they’d been facing one enemy. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
“We have to go.” Valentine’s voice quivered, understanding. “Now.”
“What’s goin’ on?” Fred asked.
“I cut the one I fought, but he
’s not wounded.” He shot Fred a significant look. “There’s two of them!”
Fred’s face whitened. Winter groaned in despair.
“Come on, Mal.” Valentine eyed the watch. “We—”
Shadows wrapped around her from behind and flung her through the air. Tumbling head over heels, she smashed into the wall and flopped to the floor.
Malcolm sprinted toward her. Billowing blackness yanked back on his shoulders and kicked his feet out from under him. The room spun as he crashed onto his back.
Shots rang out. Fred shielded Winter with his body and emptied his clip at the swirling blackness, hitting nothing but air. The shadow zigzagged toward him with impossible speed. In one fluid motion, it knocked the gun away and tossed Fred skyward. His body bounced off the ceiling and plummeted to the floor with a sickening thud.
Winter charged forward with the stun gun hissing in her hand. “Where is Patrick Morgan?” She swung and the shadow dodged. “What did you do to him?” She swung again and it danced to the side. Twisting, she plunged the weapon into the cloud of darkness.
Her arm stopped short, and rage turned to fear. The shadow gripped her arm, bent it back toward her body, and jammed the sparking weapon against her chest.
An inhuman scream exploded from Winter. Her body seized and convulsed, and her teeth clacked together. The shadow let go, and she crumpled like a rag doll to moan on the floor.
As Malcolm tried to rise, the dark-eyed man appeared and punched him in the temple with an iron fist. Stars exploded behind his eyes and he lurched onto his side. The scowling face of his attacker circled above. Light footsteps came close, and the shadowed man appeared.
“YYOOOUUU HHAAAVVVEE SSSOOOMMMEEETTHHHIIINNNGG TTTHHHAAATTT BBBEEELLLOOONNNGGGSSS TTTOOO MMMEEE.”
Setting his jaw, Malcolm held the watch to his chest and squeezed tighter.
The dark-eyed man laughed. “Zis one shows spirit. And potential.”
Potential for what?
The shadow regarded Malcolm. “NNNOOOTTT EEENNNOOOUUUGGGHHH.”
Bending, it reached out to him. He recoiled from its grasp.