On Through the Never

by Melissa E. Hurst

  Dad’s probably right, but I didn’t come here just to be sent away. “Not until you give me some answers.”

  Dad eyes flick to the window. “Sweetheart, it isn’t safe here.”

  “I know. Let’s make this quick. One, how did you survive the shuttle explosion?”

  Dad looks like he wants to argue with me, but he just sighs. “I planted the bombs. They were in my shoes, and I set the timer shortly after the pilot took off. Once I overpowered my escort, I took off the Inhibitor they’d put on me, shifted out of the shuttle, and then shifted back with a body I’d stolen from the morgue. Perks of bending both space and time,” he says, smiling weakly. “But I timed the drop-off of the body too close to the blast and was caught in it mid-shift. My recovery was hell.”

  I cover my mouth with both hands, shocked. “You killed two innocent people to escape,” I say.

  “Trust me, they weren’t innocent. They had plenty of blood on their hands. I did what I had to do to survive.”

  I swallow a few times, trying to see it from his perspective. “Okay, I get it. But why did you come here? Why didn’t you just try to get Mom again and bring her back to live with Aunt Grace and me?”

  “I didn’t because of your visit the night before I faked my death,” he says. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I was fully planning to take Adalyn to you, but what you told me changed everything.”

  Now feeling horrified, I whisper, “How?”

  “From your visit, I learned several things. One, you did live with Grace for many years, but without me or your mom. Two, you were now living in this time with your mother, and I was no longer a part of your lives. That meant that if I brought Adalyn to the past, or even if I went there myself, that would change the timeline. And I refuse to do that. So I came back to Georgia to wait until after your seventeenth birthday, since you visited me right before that date, so I could reintroduce myself to you. It was the closest I could get to being home without actually going there.”

  “Why didn’t you come, though?” I ask. “I just turned seventeen. From my point of view, I just went back and talked to you four days ago. But it’s been eleven years for you.”

  “Because I mistakenly trusted Lincoln when he took me in. His crew found me stumbling around in the woods, half burned and barely alive. They took me in and help me to mend. I thought they were decent, hardworking people trying to survive in a world that didn’t agree with how they chose to live. I understood that, even agreed with it. And when they discovered my unique situation, and that I hate the government as much as they do, they put me to work. At first it was just stealing supplies they needed and were usually denied. Food, drink, medicines, extra clothing. But after Lincoln’s hackers learned of your existence, Lincoln started demanding that I do things I didn’t want to do. Things I’m ashamed of.” He looks away, tears welling in his eyes. “Any time I tried to leave, Jode would threaten to send one of his mercenaries to hurt you. I couldn’t let him do that. I had no choice but to stay.”

  I dread finding out what he did that was so bad. So instead I ask, “You said they only threatened me. What about Vika?”

  “They thought she was dead. They don’t know that Halla cloned her. I found myself at their apartment one day when I particularly was longing to see Vika, since I had never had the opportunity to have a relationship with her.”

  Even from the bedroom, we can hear shouts from the lower part of the house, then footsteps pounding up the stairs.

  “Go, Alora! You’re out of time!”

  “I can’t leave without you, Dad. Please come with me.”

  Dad takes a big breath and straightens his back, as if he’s steeling himself to do something. “I can’t come with you because I’m a murderer. Those gunmen who shot up the museums? It wasn’t different gunmen. It was me. I killed all those people at the same time. Using my Talents.”

  I reel back as if his words are a physical slap. Dad killed all those innocent people.

  Someone begins to beat on the door. “Open up, Nate. What are you hiding in there?” Lincoln screams.

  I’m repulsed by what he did. How can I accept that he did something so awful—even if it was to protect me? But there isn’t time to mull it over. “Dad, we can work that out later. Just come with me now. Please.”

  “I can’t, sweetheart. There’s some things you can’t undo. I can never forgive myself, but I can make sure you’re safe.”

  Something—or someone—rams against the door. Again and again.

  “Go, sweetheart,” Dad says. “Just go.”

  Tears stream down my face. “What about you? They’ll hurt you.”

  Dad cracks a hint of a smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just shift outside and tell them I was out there the whole time.”

  With cracks showing in the door now, I touch Dad’s hand one more time. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  Then I shift back to the Academy.

  Later in the afternoon, after my last class with Professor March, Everly says, “I’m going to the gym to exercise. Want to come with?”

  “No,” I say slowly, glancing in Professor March’s direction. “I need to talk to him for a few minutes. I might join you later.”

  She cocks her head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting strange all day.”

  I’ve been trying to acting normal—like I haven’t had my whole life turned upside down. But really, I want to scream for all the world to hear that my father is alive. And that he’s been turned into an assassin, all because of me. The guilt is eating me alive. That’s why I need to talk to someone who can maybe do something to help me. But I just say, “I didn’t sleep much last night. But go ahead without me. I’ll probably join you later.”

  After Everly departs, Professor March walks over to me and leans against a desk across from mine. “I don’t have to read your mind to know something is wrong, Alora. What can I do to help?”

  Like a dam bursting, I tell him everything. When I’m finished, I’m sobbing.

  Professor March’s face is ashen. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, as though deciding how to react. Finally, he says, “I’ll do what I can, but I can’t guarantee Nate’s safety.”

  “Don’t tell anyone at the DTA that he was with the Purists,” I beg. “Can you give an anonymous tip or something? Just to make sure Jode Lincoln and his followers are captured?”

  Professor March takes my hands and looks me straight in the eye. “I’ll call my sister. We’ll do what we can to protect Nate. I promise. And we’ll just have to hope it’s enough.”

  29

  NATE

  MARCH 15, 2147

  It’s still pitch black outside when a piercing siren shatters the silence. Someone’s triggered the new sensors that can detect anyone who is cloaked.

  Nate’s eyes fly open and he sits up, instantly alert. Years of training as a soldier, in his former life in the twentieth century as well as in this century, have sharpened his senses. He also learned long ago to never sleep too deeply. As if he could do that, anyway. When he sleeps, he always has nightmares.

  His bunkmates are all alert as well. Everyone at the compound is required to sleep in their clothes, even with their shoes on, just in case they are attacked by the government. Jode Lincoln, their leader, puts them through drills at random. Daytime, nighttime. It doesn’t matter.

  Immediately, they retrieve their weapons from the wooden cases assigned to each of them, and don comm-sets stolen from the government. Not for the first time, Nate feels a surge of resentment as he slips on his lenses. Lincoln refuses to let him carry a weapon unless he’s on a mission.

  “What’s happening?” a bunkmate asks.

  Before anyone can answer, their door flies open. Lincoln strides inside, barking orders. “Everyone to your stations. We’re under attack.”

  Nate’s bunkmates march out, as if they’re on autopilot.

  “Are you going to let m
e have a gun now? I can’t defend myself otherwise,” Nate says, trying to keep his tone neutral. He learned years ago never to be confrontational with Lincoln.

  “No. I have one.” Lincoln peers outside the window, also wearing a comm-set. “Damn Space Benders are everywhere.” Looking back at Nate, he says, “You’re with me. Your job is to get me and my family to safety.”

  Nate breathes in, hard, through his nostrils. “And how am I supposed to do that without a weapon?”

  “That’s not my problem,” Lincoln snaps. “If you don’t help us and then report to your next assignment, I’ve left orders for my next-in-command to have your daughter terminated. Is that clear?”

  It takes everything in Nate’s power to stop himself from punching Lincoln repeatedly in his face. Clenching his fists, he says, “Yes, crystal clear.”

  “Follow me,” Lincoln barks.

  Before he leaves the room, Nate glances out the window. Four black-clad Space Benders are standing around a large white Department of Temporal Affairs transport shuttle that has just landed near the barn. Members of Lincoln’s team that have already been captured, including the new recruits who were housed in the barn, are being herded into the shuttle, hands held high in the air.

  For a moment, Nate thinks about shifting away, but Jode’s threat to have Alora killed reverberates in his mind. He has no choice but to follow orders. How could he ever have thought Lincoln was a good person? Lincoln clearly took Nate in all those years ago and nursed him back to health for his own benefit, not Nate’s. Lincoln knew he’d struck gold when he discovered that Nate was a Dual Talent on the run from the DTA.

  Nate’s senses take in everything as he follows Lincoln down the narrow hallway. Shouts coming from outside, voices issuing commands within the lower level of the house, tense voices yelling through his comm-set earpiece. Gunfire. A bitter scent fills his nostrils, making it hard for him to breathe. Great, he thinks. Now they’re using tear gas on us. Would have been nice if Lincoln had thought to get gas masks for them to wear.

  Nate and Lincoln make it to Lincoln’s bedroom. Nate’s been in here a few times. It’s nothing fancy, just a standard double bed with a blue cover, white walls, and blue checkered curtains. Lincoln’s features contort into disbelief as he checks in the closet and under the bed.

  “Damn it, they’re supposed to be here!” he shrieks. “I told her not to leave until I got here with you.”

  A hint of a smile touches Nate’s lips. Lincoln’s wife runs the whole show with him, though Jode is the official leader. But when it comes to their son, her protective instincts always take over. “Where would she have gone?” Nate asks.

  “I have a small shuttle stashed about a mile from here. Just in case something like this ever happened.” Lincoln runs his hands over his head. “She wasn’t supposed to leave yet.”

  “I think we need to head there right now,” Nate says in a tense voice. From what he’s hearing through his comm-set, there are around ten Space Benders surrounding the premises, possibly more. Lincoln’s men outnumber the agents, but the Space Benders have the advantage of having superior weapons and specialized training.

  The same training that Nate once went through.

  Hating himself for helping such a violent Purist, Nate says, “I’m going to shift outside, just below your window. I’ll secure the immediate area while you climb down. Do you think you can handle that?” Nate already knows the answer, but he can’t resist taking a jab at Lincoln.

  Jode bristles at Nate’s tone. “Of course I can, you simpleton. Why do you think I bothered drilling everyone all this time?”

  Bowing his head slightly, Nate murmurs, “My apologies. I just want to make sure you’re ready. Now may I ask again for a gun? I need something to distract the Space Benders.”

  Letting out a loud grunt, Lincoln goes over to his dresser and pulls a small pistol out of the bottom drawer. He hands the pistol to Lincoln. “Just go, already. I’m heading down now.”

  Nate checks to make sure the pistol is loaded, then quickly scopes out the immediate area through the window. Space Benders are stationed at all of Lincoln’s personal shuttles, and one is standing between the two sheds on the property. “I’m going to shift to just behind the barn and see if I can draw their attention away. You get down to the ground and I’ll meet you there in three minutes.”

  Lincoln gives a terse nod. Nate closes his eyes, visualizing the small clearing just behind the barn, picturing himself there. Instantly, cool night air kisses his cheeks. From this area, the gunfire sounds more distant. The temptation to flee is overwhelming, but he remembers Alora.

  He can’t let her down.

  Pointing the pistol into the air, Nate yells and fires it twice. He starts running toward the woods and fires two more shots. Just as he crosses the treeline, he closes his eyes and pictures the large oak next the farm house. It’s close to Lincoln’s bedroom window—the closest place he can go to hide while waiting for him to climb down.

  Nate appears behind the trunk and finds himself facing a Space Bender. The man’s eyes widen, clearly surprised by the sudden appearance of one of Lincoln’s men. Reflexes kicking in, Nate knees the man in the groin. He doubles over, allowing Nate time to grab him by the hair and slam his head against the tree. The man crumples to the ground, unconscious. Guilt tears through Nate, just like it does every time he hurts someone for Lincoln, especially when he’s ordered to take innocent lives. At least this way, the man has a chance to recover.

  Scanning the immediate area, Nate counts seven Space Benders still in front of the house. At least three of them must have taken the bait and gone to search the area near where he fired the gun. But then one of the Space Benders disappears and immediately reappears behind the house, close to where Lincoln should be any second.

  “Are you on the ground yet, Jode?” Nate hisses into his mouthpiece.

  “Yes, I’m next to the bushes.”

  “Be careful. You have company.”

  Before Nate can say anything else, he hears a muffled shot and the Space Bender close to Lincoln’s location crumples to the ground. Nate flinches.

  Crouching down, he closes his eyes again and visualizes Lincoln’s face, then appears next to him.

  “Can we go now?” Lincoln asks.

  “Depends on what direction we need to go in. Most of the agents are concentrated near the front of the house, from what I can tell.”

  “The shuttle’s in the woods on the far side of the cow pasture. I figured if we were ever ambushed, that would be the safest direction to go.”

  “What about the others?” Nate asks. “They’re risking their lives for you. Don’t you think we need to help them?”

  Lincoln shrugs. “They knew what they were signing up for. They’re loyal. If they’re caught, they won’t reveal anything. There’s too much at risk.”

  A part of Nate agrees with Lincoln, but he still hates leaving them behind.

  “Let’s go, then. We need to catch up to my family and hope like hell they haven’t left us.”

  Before they set out, Nate turns to Lincoln. “Do you realize that the government will send Time Benders back to investigate this? They’ll follow us until they figure out where we are.”

  His eyes narrow. “I’m aware of that, Walker. That’s why your job is to just get me and my family to the shuttle. They can follow us to an extent, but only after a certain amount of time passes. You know how they feel about their precious rules. But you, in the meantime, will shift directly to where I tell you to go and await further instructions.”

  Nate and Lincoln set out running across the moonless field, hoping nobody notices them.

  Lincoln leads Nate down a narrow path for a half-mile, where a tiny black shuttle is parked. As they approach the shuttle, Jode slows down, looking around wildly. He activates the door to open the shuttle, enters, then reappears a few moments later, shaking with rage.

  “They’re not here! Damn Space Benders. They must have caught them.�
��

  Nate thinks to himself that he’s not surprised. Lincoln’s wife is tough, but their son is sick. It would have taken a miracle for her to sneak him past the Space Benders without being detected. “What do you want to do?” Nate asks.

  Lincoln doesn’t answer for a few moments, and the silence is heavy with the night sounds of the forest: owls hooting, crickets chirping, wind blowing gently. Then a few sporadic rounds of gunfire in the distance.

  Lincoln balls his hands into fists and takes several deep breaths. “We can’t do anything about them now. I need to get to the next enclave and regroup from there. You better be there when I arrive.”

  “Understood,” Nate mutters. Before he can say anything else, a word flashes across his lenses: Ridgemont.

  “You’d better be there when I arrive,” Lincoln growls.

  “Yes, sir,” Nate says in a clipped voice, while thinking of Alora. He’d love nothing more than to shift to her right now, escape from this madman, but he knows he can’t. Not if he wants to keep her alive.

  So, as Lincoln pilots the shuttle away to the enclave in Ridgemont, Georgia, Nate closes his eyes and shifts there. Hopefully, by following Lincoln’s orders, he can buy some more time and figure out a way to see his younger daughter again.

  30

  BRIDGER

  MARCH 30, 2147

  “Bridger, hurry up. Your grandmother is waiting for us outside the DTA building,” Mom says over her shoulder as we exit the Maglev.

  Mom and Shan are just ahead of me as we join the heavy crowd outside the station and start weaving our way through the thousands of people crowding the streets today. We’re headed to downtown New Denver for the annual Unity Day celebrations. It’s a huge national holiday that commemorates the end of the Second Civil War and the formation of the North American Federation. Basically, we honor the death and destruction by stuffing ourselves with too much food, partying at concerts, reliving the horrors of the war in Sim Games, and listening to politicians blather on about the greatness of our country.

  I’d rather stay home, but Mom insisted. Lately, she’s been on a huge we-need-family-time kick, especially since Shan was hurt in the shooting last month. I’m surprised that she’s willing to risk letting him out in public, but apparently she thinks it’s safer now. Two weeks ago, the news reported that the feds had apprehended a lot of the people responsible for the museum shootings. Even Lincoln’s wife and sick child were taken into custody. They were discovered hiding out at a rural farm in Georgia thanks to an anonymous tip. The only ones to escape were the gunmen—the Space Benders—and their leader, Jode Lincoln.