Year of Lightning

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Year of Lightning Page 25

by Ryan Dalton


  Lucius stood at the center of his vast computer array, typing furiously, fingers flying as he jumped from one computer to the next. At random times one hand would reach out to flip a switch or throw a lever while the other kept typing as fast as ever. Despite her hatred for this man, Valentine couldn’t help but be impressed at his ability to divide his attention so skillfully.

  The silver panels whirred, tilting half an inch to the right. Lucius paused for a brief moment to gaze at his creation. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve seen better.”

  He snickered, then resumed his furious pace. “Upon reaching our destination, you certainly will.”

  He almost reminded Valentine of the old Mr. Carmichael—the enthusiastic scientist, the man she’d come to admire. An air of giddy anticipation vibrated around him. He’s excited to go home.

  She shuddered at the implications. “Why are you taking me? You know I won’t help you.”

  “Every master needs a student,” Lucius said. “It grounds them. And since your friends killed my last one, you will take his place.” He flipped more switches and the tall batteries across the room began to hum. “I forgive you for opposing me. Soon you will see I’ve been truthful, and in time you will be ready to learn from me again.”

  The mouth of the vortex expanded to fill the opening in the floor. Outside, thunder cracked and flickers of lightning danced between black clouds. Valentine examined the room again, determined to find something to use against Lucius. She pulled at the chain and winced as it chafed against raw flesh.

  “Please let me help my family. They’ll stay until they find me, and if the blast wave catches them—”

  Lucius kept working, his fingers a blur. “Do you realize how many calculations are necessary to achieve my goal? I have little time left, and my machine must be ready.”

  Her lips curled in contempt. “I spared your life!”

  “And for that I am grateful. If it gives you solace, they will not feel pain. They will simply cease to exist.”

  Lucius slid over to a computer he hadn’t touched before and typed in a series of commands. Between the lab tables, a disguised panel on the floor slid open. A metal cylinder ascended from the aperture, standing four feet tall and a foot wide. At its top, facing the massive time machine, was a small round depression.

  Dread filled Valentine as Lucius pulled the pocket watch from his jacket. Malcolm had that! She longed to know if her brother was okay. What about Oma and her friends? What about John?

  Stop it. She shoved away the rising anxiety and focused on the here and now. Can’t help them until you help yourself.

  Lucius pressed the watch against the round depression. It clicked into place and spun twice, nestling into the cylinder as if they’d been made for each other. Valentine shook her head. He needed it the whole time, and we let him waltz in and take it.

  “You look surprised,” he said. Brimming with self-satisfaction, he resumed typing. “You didn’t think I’d let you discover all my tricks, now did you?”

  She feigned nonchalance. “So you like toys. So what?”

  “Toys?” He jabbed his finger toward the watch. “This toy is the master control unit for my entire machine, Miss Gilbert. It’s been under your nose all along, and no one recognized it—not even you. Which, I have to say, disappoints me slightly.”

  He wants to gloat. A classic flaw of every egomaniac. They all want an audience to acknowledge their brilliance. Okay. So I’ll let him, and he’ll tell me everything.

  “I don’t know what that means,” she lied. “Why would you need a remote control?”

  Lucius tapped out more commands, then hit the last key with a pronounced jab. A bright red beam shot from the watch’s jewel and lanced into the center of his machine. The swirling energy shifted. Valentine couldn’t grasp exactly how, but she felt it deep in her bones. The rhythm of the red vortex changed, and the storm outside worsened.

  “Have you ever heard of resonant frequencies?” Lucius asked. “This is a similar principle. The technology of your barbaric era prevented me from building a machine with the necessary power and a sophisticated guidance system. In your terms, it is a shotgun when I need a sniper rifle.” He gestured at the watch. “That’s where the master control unit comes in. A smaller device with much finer tuning, it is able to pinpoint the exact moment and location I desire.”

  How do I use it against you? “So why not just use that to go home? Why go to all this trouble and murder so many people?”

  Lucius shook his head. “I need the power to catapult us that far and break their shield.” His tone dripped with venom. “The watch will tell the machine exactly where to drill through time and space. It may take time, but eventually the shield will break.”

  She let the lightbulb turn on in her eyes, as if just beginning to understand. “So, whichever time and place you choose with the watch . . .”

  “The machine will change its orientation to match,” he finished. “As long as the energy of the watch intersects with the energy of the machine, you can direct its path.”

  “And why are you telling me all this?”

  Lucius studied her for a long moment, then bent over his computers again. The keys clicked at what seemed like a thousand words per minute.

  “As long as you’re my student, Valentine, I will never hold back knowledge from you. I respect you. Please do not forget that.” An alert sounded and his face brightened. “And here we go. We begin our assault on the shield . . . NOW!”

  He tapped a key and another beam lanced from the watch. The vortex spun faster and the house shuddered as Lucius pumped every ounce of power into his machine. Outside, the sky erupted. Valentine gasped, her insides twisting as if she could feel his assault through the timeline.

  “We are home, Valentine!” Lucius cried. “We’ve done it!”

  He continued entering more commands and throwing more levers, fine-tuning his assault. Valentine marveled at him. In his mind, he’s already home and I’m his loyal servant. He can’t imagine that I’ll use any of this to destroy him. She examined her surroundings again and wondered if she was the one fooling herself. No one’s come yet. Are things worse than I’ve been willing to imagine?

  Am I going to die alone, in some other time?

  Outside the window, a mechanical rumble carried above the sounds of the angry storm, drawing closer until it became a roar. She rose to her knees and peered down at the street.

  A gigantic old truck charged into view, half faded green and half primer white. Tall and boxy with thick tires as tall as her waist, it barreled down the street in their direction. DODGE was emblazoned across the grille in thick red letters—a warning or a challenge. Memories awoke of Malcolm describing Clive’s automotive projects.

  Valentine smiled. You’re not home yet!

  Chapter 28

  Sheets of rain pelted the Dodge Power Wagon as Walter veered onto their street. Squinting through the torrent, Malcolm could see the windows of Lucius’s house glowing red.

  Walter stomped on the gas and the massive engine roared. They pressed back into their seats and Malcolm gripped his armrests, bracing himself. Swerving to the right, Walter hopped the curb and aimed the Power Wagon directly at the front corner of the house.

  Malcolm eyed him. “Should we ring the bell?”

  The wrought-iron fence crumpled under their wheels.

  Walter grinned. “Nah, we’ll just let ourselves in.”

  The armored transport plowed into the house with a thunderous boom. Wooden planks imploded and layers of microcircuitry sparked as they flew to pieces. The transport crunched to a stop, two-thirds of its long frame embedded in the house.

  “Bet that got his attention.” As Malcolm leapt to the ground, he marveled at the destruction. He kicked a side view mirror that had broken off the wagon. “And we finally gave this p
lace a door.”

  Walter exited on his side and stood transfixed by the energy piercing the center of the room. “The last time I saw this, Albert died.” Shaking himself back to the present, he joined Malcolm at the crumpled grille. “We get your sister first?”

  Malcolm nodded. “Then I’ll deal with Lucius while you both find my dad and get as far away as possible.”

  Walter frowned. “I never agreed to that.”

  “Which is why I didn’t say it earlier. I know it’s selfish, but my family comes before this town.”

  Walter’s expression clouded with objection.

  “I realize this sucks, but I’m asking for your help. Please.”

  Walter considered, then gave a grudging nod and gestured to the staircase. “We’d better move fast. You know he’ll be waiting.”

  “Actually, the truck was just misdirection. I have something else in mind,” Malcolm said with a grin. “How about we remodel this place a little more?”

  Grinning, Valentine shook off the dust falling from the ceiling. There’s still a chance. The impact had cast Lucius to the floor, but he had quickly recovered and resumed his frantic work on controlling the great machine. Cracking his knuckles, he paused to adjust a knob on the plate underneath his jacket.

  “Your former allies are becoming a true annoyance,” he said. “But they will not prevent my return home. I have surprises in store for—”

  Behind Valentine, the window shattered inward. A dark figure sailed through the opening, rolled across the floor, and came to his feet. Valentine’s heart soared as Malcolm set himself between her and Lucius.

  “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

  Lucius glared at her brother. All the while, he kept typing. “Attack me at your own peril, Malcolm. I do not have time for your tantrum.”

  “Well, here it comes.”

  Malcolm leapt over the table separating them, swinging as his feet hit the floor. Lucius flipped another switch, typed another command, then danced back from Malcolm’s attack at the last instant. Reversing direction then, he went on the offensive.

  They collided in a mass of flying fists and boots. Seconds later, Malcolm slammed onto his back with a thud. Valentine lunged forward, desperate to join the fight, but the chain snapped her back into place.

  Instead of pressing his advantage, Lucius slid away from Malcolm and typed on two separate keyboards at once. Valentine felt the vortex shift and adjust itself again, ever so slightly.

  “This is delicate work, boy,” Lucius chided, kicking Malcolm’s side without even looking. “You’re distracting me.”

  Seething, Malcolm leapt up and drove at Lucius again.

  A shadow fell across the window. Valentine whipped around as Walter crept silently inside, a glint of silver showing at his ankle. Oma’s anklet! Putting a finger to his lips, Walter knelt next to her and grasped the end of her chain. With a sharp tug, it snapped it free.

  Her jaw dropped. Noting her expression, he showed both hands. Two rings? What did I miss? She realized then that no one else was coming through the window.

  “Where is everyone?” she hissed.

  “Come with me,” Walter whispered.

  “No, we’ve got to help!” Valentine sprang to her feet, then swayed as her vision spun.

  “Your brother’s in charge, and he says we get you out!” Walter clutched her by the waist and stepped to the window. “Just hold on tight.”

  Mal’s in charge? What happened back there? She followed numbly, too weak to give real resistance. As much as it pained her, Walter was right—in her state she’d only be a liability.

  “Okay, let’s go,” she said.

  Mechanical whirring came from behind, and a wave of chilled air rolled over them. At the window, rain droplets crystallized and clinked frozen to the floor. Valentine looked back toward the fight.

  Ulrich’s bracers! Lucius had donned his old partner’s weapons, adding their power to his chest plate’s, and now they spun around his forearms with a high-pitched whine. Valentine realized then the pounding that Malcolm must be taking. Even with two rings, he’d feel every blow in his bones.

  The spinning stopped as the bracers reconfigured into a tubelike shape. Lucius broke free from grappling with Malcolm and danced two steps backward, leveling his hands at Malcolm’s chest.

  “Mal!” Valentine shouted.

  With a crackling boom, twin beams blasted him square in the chest. He flew back like a cannonball, heading straight for them. Walter whirled them toward the window and shielded Valentine with his body.

  A colossal force struck them. The window filled her vision, and then they were falling. Wind and rain swirled around her like a billowing blanket, wrapping her in the sensation of floating. Walter spun them again, turning his own back toward the ground.

  They impacted the rain-soaked earth, Valentine croaking as air fled from her lungs. Released from the cocoon of Walter’s embrace, she turned onto her hands and knees and forced herself to suck in a rush of air.

  “Thank you,” she wheezed.

  “Help me with your brother.”

  On Walter’s other side, Malcolm sprawled face down in the mud, unmoving. Valentine’s chest seized and she scrambled to his side. Walter flipped him onto his back while Valentine felt for a pulse and placed her ear near his mouth.

  She gasped in relief. “He’s breathing!”

  Walter lifted Malcolm onto his shoulders and they scurried through the gaping hole in the house. As they reached the truck’s back door, Malcolm stirred with a violent coughing fit. Valentine rested a hand on his chest.

  “Easy, Mal. Breathe slowly.” Valentine opened the door and stepped aside as Walter laid Malcolm across the wide backseat.

  “Need to move fast,” Walter said. “He’ll be down here any second.”

  Valentine shook her head. “He’ll never leave that machine now. It takes all his attention, and he’s too close to his goal. He must have something else to—” She cut off, Lucius’s words echoing in her mind. “He said he had surprises waiting. What did that mean?”

  “It doesn’t matter now. You two get out of town. I’ll hold him off as long as possible.”

  “No! We’re in this together. No one’s leaving you.”

  “Kid, we don’t have time to argue.”

  Footsteps interrupted them, echoing from the stairwell. Valentine crouched and braced against the cracked floor, ready to attack. Walter raised his fists. The footsteps shuffled around the truck, then a familiar face came into view.

  Valentine relaxed. “Miss Marcus! If you can help, I know something to use against Lucius.”

  The teacher stared at them in silence, her left hand balled into a fist.

  “Miranda, we need you now,” Walter said. “Are you ready?”

  Tears welled up in Miss Marcus’s eyes as she turned to Walter. “KKIILLLL HHEERR.”

  Valentine gaped. “What—?”

  Walter’s hands closed around Valentine’s throat.

  Valentine kicked out and tore at his grip with her fingernails. Looming overhead, Walter’s face contorted and his body shook. He groaned with exertion.

  Valentine knew he was fighting Miss Marcus’s power. Her silver pin commanded the deepest parts of his mind, and with the rings he could have easily crushed her windpipe. Somehow, he was resisting just enough to keep her alive.

  “Miranda, stop this!” Walter rattled his head from side to side. “What are you doing?!”

  Miss Marcus sobbed. “HHEE SSAAIIDD HHEE’DD FFIIXX IITT, WWAALLTTEERR! HHEE SSAAIIDD WWHHEENN TTHHIISS IISS OOVVEERR, WWEE CCAANN GGOO BBAACCKK AANNDD SSAAVVEE AALLBBEERRTT! HHEE CCAANN BBEE WWIITTHH UUSS AAGGAAIINN!”

  Through the haze falling over her mind, Valentine recognized that brand of bargaining. Lucius had offered her something similar. He wants us all against each other.

&nb
sp; “He’s . . . a liar and a devil, Miranda!” Walter forced out, his grip tightening. “Don’t make me do this!”

  “Please . . .” Valentine begged with the last of her air.

  Walter’s eyes bulged. “You. You told Lucius where we were, everything we’ve been doing. He knew because of you!”

  “II’MM SSOORRRRYY! II HHAADD TTOO—”

  “Stop!” a powerful voice commanded.

  In unison they turned toward the hole in the wall. A figure stood in the rain, silhouetted by the constant flash of lightning. The figure stepped inside and the red light of the vortex illuminated him.

  The tinted glasses were gone, the long hair had been cropped short, but Valentine would know that face anywhere. Hope swelled inside her. JOHN! He came closer, his attention on Miss Marcus.

  “Constant as the morning star, Miranda,” he said in a reprimanding tone.

  Walter’s face went white. Miss Marcus blinked and her knees quivered. She managed only one word.

  “Albert!”

  Valentine’s mind burst like a storm cloud. WHAT?

  “What happened to you?” John said. “Betraying everyone for the promise of a madman?” He raised his arms and turned from side to side, inviting her to examine him. “See for yourself—I am not dead. Lucius bought you with cheap lies.” He shook his head with regret. “And I was coming to help you defeat him.”

  “B-but, you’re supposed to—” Miss Marcus stammered. She swayed, looking as if she might topple over. “He said you were . . . he promised.” She sagged to her knees. Dropping the pin to the floor, she covered her face and broke into bitter sobs.

  Walter’s grip disappeared. Valentine crumpled to the floor, coughing and massaging at her throat. The air never tasted so sweet.

  He knelt over her. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t you.”

  John appeared at her side, and his hand intertwined with hers. “Thank heaven I arrived in time. Are you injured, Valentine?”

 

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