He squeezed his eyes shut. He thought of the people he had befriended in the agency. He thought of Diego Fuentes, the agent who had found him, alone and bloodied on the streets of Manhattan. He thought of Ryan, his closest friend in the Bureau, his sparring partner, the person he trusted with his life in the field. He thought of Hayden Miller – his Hayden – the twelve-year-old boy who had died, a victim of Zero’s personal crusade against Timewalkers.
And Shaun thought of Cassie. He saw her like a perfect photograph. Her red hair streamed behind her as they sat on a grassy hill above the Bureau’s base. She turned those bright blue eyes on him, the eyes that he had Timewalked back from Death itself. The image mutated, and she was screaming at him, accusing him, cursing him for his betrayal.
I didn’t betray you. I was just doing what I thought was right.
He wanted to apologize, to tell her all the things he’d never had time to say.
But first, I have to get off this island alive.
“You’re right,” he breathed, nodding slowly. “They lied to me. White Tower made me into a weapon for their own purposes. The Bureau exploited me to kill Adjusters. And that’s unforgivable.”
“Shaun, no!” Miller cried, struggling against Zero’s powers. “Don’t do this!”
Zero leaned forward, the corners of his mouth twitching in anticipation. Shaun ignored Miller’s pleas, his words taking on an icy sharpness.
“But the Bureau never once told me to hurt innocent people. My oath to the Bureau went beyond the agency; I swore to defend this nation, this world, against the likes of you!”
Shaun lifted himself higher, summoning every ounce of energy he could muster, raw Temporal Energy rushing into his body, granting him newfound strength. He pushed against Zero’s invisible chains, stumbling to his feet, the weight on him multiplying. The faceless monster stood, his mouth a thin line. The Adjusters behind him stirred uneasily; Tallon watched, his eyebrows furrowing.
“We are nothing alike,” Shaun growled, his entire body shaking with the effort of standing. “You are a sick freak, a monster that should’ve been destroyed years ago! I don’t fight for the Bureau, I don’t fight for White Tower and I certainly won’t fight for you. I am a Timewalker, and I answer to nobody but myself!”
Zero stepped back, his face turning paler than ever. The weight lifted from Shaun’s shoulders and his innate powers activated, breaking Zero’s shackles with ease. Energy poured off his body, rippling through the world, small anomalies flickering brightly and then vanishing. Zero recoiled, a silver knife appearing in his hand. His powers slackened with surprise, allowing the White Tower army to stand again.
“This has to end!” Shaun roared. “You started this war, Zero. You talk of forgiveness? I will not forgive your crimes, and I will not negotiate your punishment. Today, you answer to me, and every Timewalker you killed!”
He raised his six-shooter in a single motion, lining the barrel up with Zero’s monstrous face, a hollow mask devoid of any emotion or empathy, filled with cruelty and malice.
Shaun pulled the trigger, and the battle began.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE DEFECTION
“Reese! Reese, get over here! I found someone!”
“Shit. Is she even alive?”
“I think so. I can see her breathing. Give me your jacket, she’s going to freeze out here.”
Something warm wrapped around Cassie’s shoulders – a faux-leather jacket that reeked of sweat and gunpowder. She tried to open her eyes, but it felt as though her eyelids were glued together. She was suspended in darkness, the voices coming from a great distance, muffled and distorted. Fear kicked in, her pulse quickening, and she felt something tingle down where her hands should have been.
“We should call this in.” A boy’s voice with a dry twang.
“Where do you think she came from?” A girl’s voice, light and distinctly foreign.
“God knows,” Reese said. “It’s a miracle she’s even alive. She needs medical help.”
“Okay. I’ll call David.”
“Alanna – wait.”
“What?” Alanna asked.
A moment’s pause, then, “What if she’s from over there?”
Cassie tried not to breathe, afraid of something that she couldn’t name. Feeling was starting to come back into her limbs, pins-and-needles burning in her hands and feet.
“Does it matter?” Alanna answered, and Cassie realized the girl’s accent was Irish. “She’s in our territory. We follow protocol, and take her in.”
“Okay. Make the call.”
Strong arms wrapped around Cassie’s body, scooping her up as though she was just a child. The warmth of another human melted the layer of frost caked on her skin and her tattered combat gear. She tried to open her eyes again; failed. It was impossible to move, to speak, to do anything except take shallow breaths, and even that seemed like the hardest thing in the world.
“Come on,” Reese murmured, his mouth close to her ear. “Let’s get you out of here.”
She heard the metallic scraping of a van door, then felt a floor beneath her body. She shivered, curling into a tight ball, shrugging further under the jacket.
“Alanna, you’ll have to drive,” Reese said, placing one hand on Cassie’s shoulder.
The side door slammed shut, then the driver’s door opened and closed. She wanted to open her eyes and see who her rescuers were.
What if they aren’t saving me? What if they work for Zero?
Fear stirred inside her and she tried to sit upright, but Reese held her down.
“Don’t move, you need to rest,” he said, his voice carrying a sharp edge.
The van started with a loud whine, and the floor rumbled beneath her. She slumped back into the blankets and let exhaustion consume her.
* * *
When Cassie woke, she was staring at a wood-paneled ceiling, fluorescent lights shining into her eyes. She was lying on an old mattress, blankets piled around her body. Her hand dropped onto plush carpet, the type found in corporate offices. Her eyes drifted up to find a teenage boy, about her own age, sitting back in a beige office chair, one leg casually crossed over the other. A faux-leather jacket was draped across his lap and his black combat boots were scuffed all over. The boy watched her, his bright-green eyes matching the neon color of his hair, which had been slicked into a mass of spikes like a punk rocker, the sides of his scalp trimmed low. His exposed arms were covered in black tattoos, and a scarlet sash encircled his right bicep.
Behind him was a floor-to-ceiling window that ran the full length of the room. A long table that could have seated at least twenty people was braced against the window. She saw ruined buildings outside; snow and ash swirled around the skyscrapers of the Windy City.
“Morning, sweetheart,” the boy said, interlacing his hands behind his head. “You feeling better?”
Cassie groaned and pushed herself upright, the blankets falling away from her body. She let out a horrified squeal – she was wearing nothing but her underwear. She snatched up the blankets and pulled them under her chin, her cheeks blushing bright red.
“Where are my clothes?” she demanded.
The boy’s cheeks colored, but when he spoke, his voice was cool and indifferent. “Drying. We found you in the early stages of hypothermia. If we’d left you in those clothes, you would’ve died within the hour.”
Cassie swallowed. She pulled the blankets tighter around her body and shrugged back against the wall behind her.
“Where am I?” she asked, her voice tremoring.
On her right were several glass panels and a door, with old bedsheets suspended as a makeshift curtain. Through a gap in the sheets she saw a hallway and another conference room with several mattresses pressed against the walls. Dozens of men and women slept or sat, their arms and legs wrapped in bloodied bandages.
“Something you could generously call an Infirmary,” the boy said, with a lazy gesture to the room outside. “This is
Sears Tower. And out there,” he added, pointing to the ruined city, “is what’s left of Chicago.”
Cassie’s heart fluttered, fear and adrenaline dumping into her stomach. This isn’t my world. The thought came to her, fully formed and undeniably true. I’m in the other universe.
Somehow she had been transported here after her fight with Marissa – and then it hit her like a cement truck. Her father; the Adjusters; Ryan trying to fight them off.
A wave of emotion punched her in the stomach and she pulled her knees up beneath her throat. Red hair fell around her face, hiding her from the world. Hot tears burned down her cheeks and she wiped them away with the corner of a blanket. Her heart ached for Ryan, wanting him there beside her – he’d know what was happening. He had been loyal to the end and now he was gone, trapped a universe away.
She heard the boy swing his legs down, felt him lean forward.
“Listen,” he said, “I know this is hard. I don’t know where you’ve come from, or why you were out there, but…we’re here to help you.”
Cassie sniffed. I’m not the one who needs help, she thought. My dad…I can’t do anything to help my dad from here. The Warden told me there would be a war. He told me I would have to choose a side and fight. Fight for what I believe in; fight for the people I love.
She took a deep breath. With a shuddering exhale, she pulled herself together. The Bureau had prepared her for this – they had trained her to release emotion, to become a soldier with a mission.
This was just another operation, one with a clearly defined goal – make her way back to her own universe.
She pulled her hair behind her ears, and focused on the boy. There were scars on his cheek and his green eyes flickered with something darker, staring deep into her soul. There was something eerily familiar about him, but she couldn’t identify what exactly.
“I’m Reese,” he said, holding out a hand. She shook it awkwardly, his skin rough and calloused. “What’s your name?”
She was about to answer Cassie, when something made her pause. She threw another look outside, to the jagged skyscrapers and piles of rubble down below on the streets.
She heard the Warden’s words again. A war is coming…a war between two universes – and only one can survive.
She hesitated, then said, “Natalie.”
Tears welled up behind her eyes, but the name rolled off her tongue easily. Cold sweat beaded along her forehead, and she was suddenly afraid that Reese would see through her, that he would know she was lying.
“You have a last name, Natalie?” he asked, his tone more serious.
Cassie hesitated, again saying the first name she could think of – her mother’s maiden name. “Wallace.”
Reese stared at her hard, and she shrank back against the wall, her heart threatening to tear out of her chest. She felt vulnerable, trapped high above the ground, practically naked in a room with a strange teenager she didn’t know – it was her own personal nightmare.
There was a knock on the glass door, startling her.
Reese turned around as a tall girl entered the room. Her blonde hair flowed down her back, and she had pencil-thin eyebrows with warm brown eyes. She wore black leather pants and high boots that only emphasized her natural height, and her matching jacket was pulled tight around her cleavage. She was exactly the type of girl that Cassie hated most – brainless bimbos with a stunning body who had an endless stream of quarterbacks and jocks hanging off their sultry looks. She couldn’t have been older than seventeen, but she carried herself with the confidence of a mature woman.
“She’s awake?” the newcomer asked, her accent Irish. She carried a small bundle of clothes.
Reese returned his attention to Cassie. “This is Alanna,” he explained. Addressing the newcomer, he added, “Apparently our frozen girl is Natalie Wallace.”
“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Alanna said, offering Cassie a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She hesitated, then placed the clothes on the bed. “These are for you. I had to guess your size, I’m sorry.”
Cassie looked at the clothes, then back at her supposed rescuers. “Why did you bring me here?”
“We couldn’t just leave you out there,” Alanna said, horrified. “At first we thought you were with White Tower—”
“And we still don’t know she isn’t,” Reese said, cutting her off. He frowned at Cassie. “I want to know what you were doing out there. Unarmed, with unmarked camos. The Soviets wouldn’t be pushing this far into our territory, and considering you have all your limbs, I’ll rule out the scavengers. You’re definitely not one of ours. So what are you?”
This time, Cassie knew there was no point lying. They could be my only allies right now. They need to know.
“I’m a Timewalker.”
Alanna gave a surprised gasp that turned into a choked cough. Reese’s forehead creased and he rocked back in the office chair, running a hand through his neon-green hair, breaking some of the spikes apart.
“A Timewalker,” he repeated. He stood and whispered something to Alanna. The Irish girl nodded and hurried out of the room, the glass door swinging shut behind her.
“Okay,” Reese said, with an air of command. “This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to meet someone and he’s going to ask you a few questions – and if you don’t answer truthfully, or if he has any reason to suspect that you’re lying, we’ll take you right back to where we found you.”
Cassie recoiled at Reese’s threat. I’m not a guest here, not somebody they rescued. I’m a glorified prisoner. She readied her Affinity, prepared to defend herself – but how would that help her? I can’t fight my way out of here.
“Get dressed,” Reese told her. “When you’re done, you’re going to see the Commander.”
When Reese had left her alone, Cassie closed her eyes tight, then snapped them open again; but no amount of childish hope could pull her out of this tormented dream. Her hands shook as she pushed the blankets aside and pulled the jeans on – they were too long around the ankles, forcing her to roll them up several times. The tank-top was a little loose, but it was better than nothing.
She paused for a moment, staring at the smoking ruins of Chicago. The glassy surface of Lake Michigan reflected the gray blanket hanging across the sky. Snow drifted down toward the remains of the city below.
I will get out of here, she promised herself. I will find a way back home, a way back to my parents – and to Ryan. No matter what.
She opened the door, prepared to face whatever would come next.
Alanna had returned, and together with Reese, they led her through the corporate skyscraper, moving so quickly that she could barely take in her surroundings. Conference rooms and office spaces had been converted into triages, with young men and women in scrubs treating patients with minimal medical supplies.
Up several flights of stairs, down more corridors, many lit only by battery-operated lamps.
Soldiers in civilian clothing patrolled the floors, guns slung across their broad chests. They all wore scarlet sashes around their arms, but many of the fighters were fresh-faced and young. They’re teenagers fighting a war. Just like Timewalkers.
As Cassie passed another large conference room, she saw several older men with their heads hunched over a table, blueprints and paperwork spread before them. Cassie’s gaze lingered too long in the room, and the door was slammed shut by a boy who couldn’t have been much older than twelve, despite the Glock holstered on his waist.
“Don’t slow down,” Reese snapped, tugging her forward.
Up three more flights of stairs, names scrawled in thick marker on the concrete. Barracks 15. Intel Center. Armory. They emerged into an area that might have been a private club once, passing a bar with several soldiers in ragged clothes. Then through a restaurant-turned-mess hall, the tables crammed together, the food rustic-looking and beige.
They stopped at the end of another nondescript corridor. Two soldiers guarded a closed
door, shotguns slung across their chests.
“This is the girl we found,” Reese said, gesturing at Cassie as though she was a stray dog. “Commander wants to see her.”
The guard on the left knocked twice, and a gruff man yelled out an affirmative, his voice muffled through the timber doors. The soldier nodded and opened the door. Cassie hesitated, sudden terror gripping her.
“It’s okay, Natalie,” Alanna whispered.
Cassie took a deep breath and stepped around the soldier’s outstretched arm, the door shutting behind her a moment later.
The office was square, with a large window opposite her. The window was reinforced with a sheet of metal grating, small holes letting her look out across the ruins of Chicago. A large desk occupied most of the office, laden down with stacks of paperwork and a battery-powered lamp.
The Commander had his back turned, his hair the same gray as his uniform, his hands behind his back. A scarlet armband encircled his left bicep, and silver epaulets adorned his shoulders.
“Take a seat,” the man said, still facing the window. Cassie sat down on a tattered leather armchair. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t help remembering when she’d sat down in Director Anderson’s office and he’d told her they would be capturing an Adjuster.
You don’t have anything to fear, she told herself. You are a Timewalker. That makes you valuable to these people.
I hope.
“My men said they found you at the edge of the radiation zone. What were you doing out there? Why have you entered Resistance territory?”
The man turned around, and Cassie gasped.
Resistance. The word itself didn’t mean anything to her, even though she knew she’d heard the name before – but that wasn’t why she gasped.
She knew the man standing before her.
The Commander of the Resistance was Ryan Boreman.
He looked at least twenty years older than she remembered him. There were deep lines in his face, and his hair was grayer than she’d expected. Dark shadows hung under his eyes, and there was a distinctive scar running from his left eye down his cheek. His shoulder was clearly bandaged beneath his uniform.
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