Gernot seized advantage of Blake’s moment of reflection and knocked the knife away. It skittered over the edge of the platform.
One-armed and outclassed, Blake needed the knife to even the playing field. He scrambled for it, but Gernot leapt on his back. Something – a length of cable – looped around his neck and tightened. He brought his hand up to relieve the pressure and managed nothing but getting his fingers caught.
Gernot pulled the cable hard. Blake gagged as his own knuckles ground into his Adam’s apple. He strained to get the knife that had fallen over the edge of the platform, the cord around his neck tearing into the skin of his fingers.
He could feel his face turning red. He wanted to throw up, but had sense enough to know the vomit would bottleneck in his throat. He gagged again, unable to breathe now.
Gernot exhaled into his ear, a ragged sound of pleasure. “There’s nothing like killing a man you respect,” he growled. “To see him die, and know that in that moment you are the better man. I respect you. I really do.”
The pressure on Blake’s neck loosened for a moment, and his hand slipped free. He sucked in air and croaked, “That’s nice. I think you’re a fucking twat.”
His reprieve was short lived. Gernot tightened his grip on the cable and the strangling resumed, harder this time.
By now Blake was so far gone he barely registered that Gernot was whispering something to him again.
“Do you know why you have lost?” Gernot said, but he wasn’t looking for a reply. “Because you have always lost. I wouldn’t be able to travel back if you had won. Think about that before you die.”
Blake couldn’t think. He was on autopilot; the only thing on his mind was how to get the next lungful of air. He was choking on the saliva in his mouth, and his body was beginning to spasm. The edges of his vision dimmed, his eyes stung as the capillaries popped … but he was almost at the lip of the platform.
A woman’s voice blared out suddenly in the room, speaking in Russian through an intercom on the wall.
“That is the sound of my deliverance,” Gernot said, exultation lacing his words. “After I’ve killed you, I’ll be on my way.”
Blake didn’t have to speak Russian to know what deliverance Gernot spoke of. The machine was ready to suck his foe back to 1948 … but the knife was at his fingertips. He might just …
At that moment, he heard his own voice speak out – or what used to be his voice.
“Do you want to know why you lose?”
The cord around Blake’s neck slackened.
The voice belonging to Ethan continued, “Because you can’t kill us both.”
Gernot realized his predicament and in a flash went for the button on his watch – his only salvation – and clicked it. Nothing happened.
The Russian’s face went blank with puzzlement. He clicked the watch again. Still nothing. Then he looked down at Blake, who was now holding the knife in bloody fingers.
Blake opened his hand then, dropping the blade. He picked up a cut cable between his index finger and thumb. “Oops.”
Gernot’s eyes traced the origin of the severed cable, which led back to his watch. He gaped up at Ethan, who had his weapon trained on Gernot’s chest. The Russian’s face morphed into an animalistic snarl, his brows furled, teeth bared.
Blake let out a wet sounding laugh. “Checkmate,” he choked out, grinning up at Gernot. Although this hadn’t been a game of chess with Tobias, he’d finally managed to checkmate someone.
There was only one option left for Gernot, and he chose it, charging straight for Ethan. Before the Russian took more than two steps, Ethan emptied several rounds in the man’s torso. His body jerked from the impact of the slugs and hovered a moment upright before tumbling over.
Zodiac, Worm, Priest, and Jackman reached the platform. They weren’t out of the woods yet. More troops were already entering the reactor room from both sides, encompassing the small group. This would become their tomb before long. Their ammunition wouldn’t last forever against such odds.
The helmet Jackman wore was malfunctioning, its lenses sparking and flickering on and off from unseen circuitry damage. Reaper tore it off and tossed it away. “We need to get you out of here,” he said.
The commandos took up positions behind terminals and computers on the large platform. Blake looked at the time traveling device still affixed to Gernot’s wrist. Ethan could use it to escape, saving at least one of them.
He disengaged the watch and started to hand it to his twin, but stopped himself. On impulse, he gave the watch face a quick twist, and saw the random number ‘23’ flashing on the display. That’s far enough, just in case. Then he poked Ethan’s shoulder.
Ethan’s head whipped around. “What?”
“Here. You can teleport out of here.” Blake pressed the device into Ethan’s palm.
“It won’t take us all,” Jackman yelled from his position, and Blake saw the resignation in his eyes. “Take this.” He pulled something out of a side pouch and tossed it to Blake.
Blake swiped his hand up, snatching the item from the air. It was another time jump watch. He met the commando’s gaze.
“It’s Tobias’s,” Jackman said.
The question – How, and when? – was clearly visible on Blake’s face as he started attaching the piece to his arm.
“That old bastard buried it and activated the tracer,” Jackman said. “We’ve already plotted the LOC1; it’s about two miles from here. Take this too.” He threw another object, which Ethan caught easily.
The item was shiny, silver, and looked like a small soda can. “It’s a thermite magnesium grenade,” the commando said. “When it explodes, it’ll melt through anything. That reactor core needs to be destroyed. We can’t allow this facility to stay in operation. Just give the top a twist when you’re ready.” He demonstrated the motion with his fingers.
Reaper hefted his gun, readying it for use. “We’ll hold them off while you plant it. Then teleport the fuck out of here.”
“What about you?” Ethan asked.
The resigned look appeared again, and Jackman’s lips flattened into a grim line. “We signed on for this. Just don’t let it be in vain. Now go!”
The two Tannors dashed for the reactor core’s interior, both of them still fumbling with their watches. Ethan cursed as the metal hooks latched onto his skin, but he didn’t break stride. The noise of gunfire reduced in volume as they distanced themselves from the fray and ran into the reactor room. They stopped to take in their surroundings and examine their options.
The room was filled with dials, gas-filled pressurized pipes, and the loud hum of fluid that whirred around them. Over the beeps and buzzes of the instruments, another sound rang out – a door slamming shut on the opposite side of the room.
Sudden shots bounced off the walls and pipes. Blake and Ethan dove for cover. Blake felt his hip crack as he collided with the floor.
He looked over just as a Russian soldier launched himself on top of Ethan, clawing for the watch. The grenade popped out of Ethan’s hand and rolled toward Blake.
Blake heard rushing footsteps and knew another Russian would be on top of him in seconds. He glanced about frantically, noting that he was in as good a spot as any to set off an explosion in the reactor’s interior.
Then a subconscious thought sprang to mind, providing an alternate solution. It was their only hope. Dear God, please let this work! He threw out another prayer that Dr. Amhurst had been correct.
We have the same DNA.
Thinking fast, Blake reached for the dial on his timepiece, quickly marked the spot where he was positioned as ‘LOC2’, then switched it back so LOC1 flashed on the screen again. He snatched up the grenade and put it in his pocket before shoving himself into a lopsided roll, closing the distance between himself and his twin, stopping when his foot struck Ethan’s side.
Then he pressed the button.
66 The Dark Insight
April 26, 1986, 1:19 AM
For a second, he thought it hadn’t worked; that Ethan had been split apart during the jump. But no – that mangled half body wasn’t Ethan. It was the Russian soldier. The man was a bloody carcass on Ethan’s chest, his eyes wide and blinking rapidly, mouth open as far as the jaw would allow. A grotesque gagging sound spurted from the man’s throat as he gasped for air.
The body toppled over as Ethan pushed it off and sat up, looking dazed. The choking noise began to slow and then stopped.
They’d made it outside, but the thermite magnesium grenade had not been set. Blake looked around, suddenly feeling the weight of failure and indecision upon his shoulders. This was not just a facility for evil; by the twinkling lights ahead, it looked like there was a town surrounding the area. Many of those people might be innocents, or children.
But what of the horrors unleashed if nothing is done?
Jackman and his men were going to be overtaken, and from there the Russians would send someone back, even if it wasn’t Gernot. Blake had little doubt that the next candidate would be just as terrible.
Ethan was taking in the view of the small city beyond the nuclear power plant, and Blake recalled the scenes that had played out in front of him that day in Wallace’s office.
The devastation of New York; buildings leveled; the Statue of Liberty collapsing. America under attack, falling to the enemy. Families slaughtered. Children dead or dying in their mother’s arms. The conflict touching the whole world as the globe fell under the thumb of the Sons of Stalin, bowing to the oppressive rule of their warped ideology.
There was a choice to be made. Here. Now. What would it be? New York? America? The world? Or … that tiny geographic place on the horizon gracing the northern edge of this hellhole?
Blake didn’t want this burden, but it had been handed to him. He came to a decision.
His twin looked back at him, and their eyes met. “No,” Ethan said with a gasp.
“I’m sorry, Ethan. This has to be done.”
“You can’t be serious. All of those people – what about the fallout?”
“It seems I understand Wallace a little better know.”
Ethan glowered at him. “And what the fuck does that mean?”
Blake held Ethan’s gaze. “Sometimes when you go through the machine … your eyes are opened. You see what is, and what might be, and that alone can turn you into a different person. A singular choice – in this case not a simple one – can change history. It will be bad, but if I don’t do this, then it will be much worse.”
Blake pulled the grenade from his pocket, and propped it under his left arm. By now, he’d grown adept at removing the time travel device from his stump one-handed and easily did so now. He clamped it around the canister.
“This isn’t right! We can’t do this!” Ethan’s voice escalated in his desperation. He pushed himself upright, his legs wobbly.
“I can’t let you be responsible for this, so you can try and stop me, which I will understand,” Blake said.
Ethan bolted forward, but it was an awkward movement, and Blake sidestepped easily.
He twisted the top of the thermite magnesium grenade and clicked a prong on the watch. Then he yanked the grenade from beneath his arm and lobbed the package into the air two seconds before Ethan crashed into him.
The grenade flew high, and then – with a cracking sound and a whoosh of air – it was gone, teleported back to LOC2, the point where Blake had been in the interior reactor room. A muffled explosion came from within the nuclear power plant at almost the same instant the two men hit the dirt. The sound of explosions rippled through the building.
Ethan’s eyes flashed with anger beyond rage. “What have you done?” he screamed, hands curling into fists around Blake’s shirt.
Blake’s hand came up to wrestle with Ethan’s grip for a moment, almost like a child struggling with a stronger parent. Then he brought his knees up and thrust Ethan off with a surge of unexpected strength.
Ethan jumped to his feet and faced Blake again. His face was mottled red with fury. He looked like he wanted to kill Blake at that moment. Blake understood the feeling; he wanted to kill himself too after what he’d just done.
Rolling to his feet as well, Blake regarded Ethan with an expression that was both calm and sad. “I’ve saved the world, and I’ve saved you.”
Ethan shook his head. “What?”
Then he saw a flashing red dot in the darkness. The blinking was coming from the watch attached to his wrist. He looked at the screen. The number ‘23’ was displayed in a blue glow. Smaller numbers in the right hand corner were counting down: three … two … one.
Ethan’s eyes snapped back to Blake. “You son of a –”
The whip-strike. The rush of air. And he was gone. A small crater in the dirt was all that remained.
The weight on Blake’s shoulders crushed him as the implications of his action settled into his soul. It could not be undone now.
Dear God … have I made the right choice?
PART IV
Yesterday This Day’s Madness did prepare;
To-morrow’s Silence, Triumph, or Despair:
Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why:
Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.
– The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
67 The Gods Must Be Lazy
April 26, 2009, 12:00 PM
“– bitch!” Ethan screamed as he landed in a stumble over the uneven earth, barely managing to catch his balance before slipping to the dirt. His eyes burned from the sudden difference in lighting. It had been nearly pitch black when he’d been with Blake just a second ago and now the sun was piercing through white clouds, stinging his pupils.
After his eyes adjusted, he was able to see a wide open expanse around him. Where and when am I? An eerie thought emerged. Am I now the Omega man? The last person on Earth?
There wasn’t a soul to be seen. The structure he’d seen just moments ago looked very different now. There were buildings in the distance too, but vegetation had sprouted everywhere, angry looking, and reclaiming the land that was theirs.
He squinted, straining for a better look at the edifices. Windows missing in nearly every frame, gaping holes where doors should have been. And in the middle of it all a Ferris wheel stood, unmoving. The sight chilled him.
The wind blew in a sudden gust, cold and biting. Ethan had never felt so alone in his life, standing in this wasteland.
A throbbing in his arm distracted him. He looked down, saw the contraption still anchored to his flesh. Fury erupted in him again and he fumbled with the timepiece, trying to pry it loose.
“Come on, dammit!” he spat out after working unsuccessfully to rid himself of the device.
He forced himself to stop, to collect his emotions when he felt them swirling out of control. Mauling himself in the process wouldn’t help his situation. After a moment, his head had cleared enough to figure out how to trigger the release, and when the watch’s barbs finally slid out of his skin, he threw it to the ground.
Ethan glared down at the piece, his mind replaying what had just occurred.
Blake.
He couldn’t fully identify the next feeling that surged through him when he thought about his twin. But one thing did become clear to him then. Destroy it.
Ethan was about to stomp on the timepiece when a voice spoke out, strangely loud in the silence.
“That wouldn’t be wise.”
The sound of the words was so abrupt, it startled Ethan and he spun around. A man was approaching him, the collar of his coat turned up to fight the frigid air.
Ethan was cold, but he no longer cared. He wasn’t alone. Thank God! “Who are you?”
“I guess you could say we’ve met, but on the other hand, we haven’t. My name is Benjamin Wal
lace.”
Wallace. Ethan had heard that name before, on his answering machine and from Blake’s own lips. This was the man who had been after him in 1986 – but where was he now? A better question might be, were the man’s intentions the same – here, in this forsaken place? “What happened here?” he asked.
The man’s face held a hardness to it that spoke of too much pain in life. “This is what happens when God calls in sick.”
“What?”
“The nuclear facility you see there is the location of what became known as the ‘Chernobyl disaster’. On April 26, 1986, reactor four exploded, resulting in the worst nuclear power plant accident in history. Naturally, conspiracy theorists insist it was no accident.” Wallace gestured to the north. “The city in that direction is Pripyat. Deserted now. The fallout was quite severe.”
He peered at Ethan. “They let people come here and tour on day passes now. Can you imagine?” Wallace shook his head and began walking toward the abandoned city. “Come with me,” he said.
Ethan gaped at Wallace’s back as the man strode away, then he looked down at the watch. Without knowing why, he snatched it back up and stuffed it in his pocket as he hustled to catch up. “And when am I? What’s the day? What year?” Ethan’s questions came fast now.
“It is April 26, 2009. You have been gone a long time, Mr. Tannor.”
“I don’t understand. How? Why?”
“You were sent here.”
“Blake,” Ethan muttered.
Wallace nodded.
“But how could you know that?” Ethan looked away from Wallace, returning his attention to the landscape.
“We’ve had this conversation before, a few years from now. I want you to know, we are friends. Or should I say, we become friends.”
Ethan threw him a dark look over one shoulder. “You’re not my friend. Look what you’ve caused. Take a look around, man.”
Wallace nodded again. “I see it.” His voice was low, sounding almost sad. “I have also seen a future far different. Far worse. But we have fixed it.”
And the Tide Turns Page 36