Doomed

by Josh Anderson

  Allaire walked over to Kyle. “It’s not safe out there.”

  Allaire grabbed Kyle’s shirt and gently pulled him around to the other side of the pillar, pressing him up against the warm metal. She looked upstairs, to make sure Everett couldn’t see them, Kyle assumed. “I wish we could spend the night together,” she said, and then she kissed him fast and hard.

  Kyle kissed her back at first, but then pushed her shoulders away. “But, instead, you’ll be spending it with your husband. This is really strange, Allaire.”

  “It’s not like that,” she said. “At least for me it’s not, I promise. Can we kiss now, and I’ll explain another time?” she said.

  Kyle thought about it, and then pulled her toward him.

  A few minutes later, she grabbed his hand and led him back into the center of the room. “Who else lives here?” Kyle asked, looking up and taking it all in again. There were twelve platforms, and four had bamboo privacy screens.

  “At the moment, it’s just Everett and I. But it’s always evolving,” she answered. “Neither of us would be here if it was safe to live in our natural timestreams.”

  “Your natural timestream?” Kyle asked. He saw Everett looking down at them, leaning on a metal railing lining the outside of the platform above them.

  “It’s as simple as it sounds,” she answered. “It’s the timestream you were born into. Ev and I don’t get that luxury.”

  “Why here?” Kyle answered. “Why 2060?”

  “This is the end of the line, Kyle,” she said. “Or at least, the end of the time tunnel. We’ve never stayed here for long enough to see 2061 because neither of us has any idea what happens after 2060. Or if the world even exists.”

  Kyle looked around. “I’m totally confused.”

  “We never stay here longer than a day or two at a time,” she answered.

  “Where else do you go?” Kyle asked.

  “Wherever I’m needed,” she answered.

  Kyle looked at her and saw how sad it made her to talk about all of this. “Why do you do it?”

  Allaire looked away from him. “Because there’s someone who won’t stop until he wins . . . ”

  “Who’s out there?” Kyle asked. “Who’s trying to change the past?”

  “An old friend,” Allaire answered. “Listen, no more questions. You need to get some rest. I know I owe you more answers. Just remember, Kyle Cash, there’s no turning back now. We have all the time in the world—literally—to get you up to speed.”

  Kyle almost felt dizzy trying to rationally consider the fact that he was in the year 2060. Somewhere, beyond this strange, tall structure, he was sixty-two years old. If he was still alive. “This is too much.”

  “I know, my . . . Kyle,” she answered, putting a hand on his shoulder from behind. “This isn’t a job for people with any connection to a particular time or place. Ev’s got nothing out there. This is it for him.”

  “What about you?” Kyle asked.

  Allaire paused before answering. “I lost my connection the first time you left me in 1998,” she answered. “And then . . . ”

  Everett was now leaning over the railing from upstairs and cut into their conversation. “Allaire, get up here! Quick!” he yelled down.

  Allaire walked toward the staircase.

  Kyle just watched her go, trying to respect that she wasn’t ready to share everything with him yet. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, though, and turned. “Come on.”

  “Really?” Kyle asked.

  “Really. The best way for me to explain everything is for you to just be with me. I’ll do my best to explain as we go. Okay?”

  Kyle sighed, half-pleased and half-frustrated. “Sure,” he said, as he followed her upstairs to join Everett.

  The platform was bigger than it looked from the main floor. They had a bay of six circular monitors playing static footage of different entranceways. Kyle assumed these were feeds from security cameras. The resolution was better than anything Kyle had ever seen on a screen. The picture looked so clear that Kyle was tempted to reach out and touch it.

  On the other side of the room there was an Apple computer which didn’t look very different than the one Joe Stropoli used to have in his family room. The huge monitor was covered up by a white blanket. Next to the mouse, hooked up to the computer was a device with ten small holes in it. All of them were empty except one which had a Q-tip inside of it. Kyle figured this was the same one Everett had swabbed in his mouth.

  “What’s up with the blanket over the screen?” Allaire asked.

  Everett nervously tapped his desk with the key to the pillar. He looked at Kyle. “Should he be up here?”

  “He knows so much already, Ev,” she said.

  “And that Q-tip has my spit on it,” Kyle added, trying to sound firm, but realizing how silly it must’ve sounded before the words were even out of his mouth.

  “He’s not going anywhere, Ev,” Allaire said. “We’ve gotta trust him.”

  Everett shook his head and looked troubled. “I wish I knew how to say ‘no’ to you, darling.”

  “Let’s hope you never figure it out,” she said with a soft smile. Kyle wanted to throw up in his mouth. This guy was either a complete cheeseball, or trying to rub Kyle’s nose in the fact that he and Allaire were married. Or both.

  “So, I did the D-track on him, but something weird happened,” Everett said to Allaire.

  “Am I allowed to ask what a D-track is?” Kyle asked. Being in this room made him feel like he was in a futuristic sci-fi movie.

  “We’re gonna be here all night if all the kid does is ask questions,” Everett said.

  Allaire rolled her eyes and smiled at Kyle. “It’s short for DNA Target Tracking. Anyone who travels through time needs to make sure they avoid seeing themselves in person. That goes for us too.” She sat down on a rolling stool next to the computer. “By inputting our DNA into this machine, we can use something called astro-visual tracking to make sure the 2060 versions of ourselves are nowhere nearby.”

  “So you took that saliva from my cheek so you could see where I am in 2060?” Kyle asked excitedly.

  “It’s actually skin cells from your cheek, but whatever,” Everett said, pulling the sheet from the monitor. The camera footage was clear, but Kyle didn’t see himself. He just saw an empty kitchen—a bit more futuristic, but resembling a kitchen enough that Kyle knew what it was.

  “This is a feed from inside of a building in California,” Everett continued. “Near Los Angeles. It looks cushier than most things do in this fucked up world.”

  “You think he’s in one of the West coast salvation units?” Allaire asked.

  “Likely,” Everett answered. “Or else LA’s been having quite a laugh during everyone else’s apocalypse.”

  Kyle looked at the screen and couldn’t help but smile. A figure walked into the picture and he could tell immediately that it was him. Like looking in a mirror. What an amazing thing, he thought, to see himself in 2060!

  The Kyle on the screen looked like he was alone, and started making a sandwich. The screen said it was four o’clock in New York, so it was lunchtime on the West coast.

  Allaire took one look at the monitor and was stunned. She put her hand up. “Wait, Ev, I—I just—I don’t get it. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “No, it does not,” Everett answered. “Not at all.”

  “What doesn’t make sense?” Kyle asked. “There I am.”

  “It’s 2060, Kyle.” Allaire said.

  “Right?” Kyle answered. He looked at the image again. There wasn’t a whole lot to notice. There was the kitchen, the sandwich on the counter, and himself. Clear as day. He was glad that he was so far away so he didn’t have to worry about his head blowing up. Wasn’t that the whole point of the test? he wondered.

  Everett and Allaire looked at each other, then at Kyle, then back to each other. They looked confused, and a bit scared.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Kyle
said. “Would somebody just talk to me?”

  “You look exactly the same,” Allaire said. “Don’t you see? You haven’t aged.”

  At first, it didn’t sound like a big deal to Kyle. “Well, maybe I never go back and that’s why I’m the same age. Maybe I just stay here.”

  “But, we can’t take video of the future,” Everett said. “This image is what you’re doing right now. In 2060.”

  “The Kyle that’s standing here right now next to me,” Allaire said, “is forty-four years younger than the Kyle on the screen. That Kyle should look like an older man.”

  “This doesn’t make sense,” Kyle said. “Maybe you didn’t do the swab right, or—”

  “Easy there, tiger,” Everett said. “Leave this to the professionals.”

  “Why hasn’t he aged?” Allaire asked. “It makes no sense.”

  Kyle considered the magnitude of all of this. When he’d gone through the silk blot the first time, he hadn’t bothered to wonder how many other people knew about time travel. Even right up until he and Allaire exited her silk blot in 2060, Kyle felt like the entire concept of time travel was small and personal—his journey to fix what went wrong on the morning of the bus crash. So far, his unsuccessful journey.

  Now it was clear that he was a just small part of something much bigger. He just wasn’t sure where he fit into it all yet, and clearly, neither were Everett and Allaire.

  “Something’s broken,” Allaire said. “It must be. Are you sure this is a current image?”

  Everett nodded, his eyes glazing over as he stared at the screen. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m at a loss.” Then he paused and looked straight up at Allaire, “Is there any way he could be a Sere?”

  “What’s a Sere?” Kyle asked. But neither of them even looked his way.

  “Get me a needle,” Allaire said, pulling her eyes away from the screen for a second. “The only thing that explains this is if you’re somehow getting an old feed.”

  Everett stood up, barely able to pry his eyes away from the screen as he backed away. He opened a closet built into the wall and pulled out a small suitcase. He opened it and rummaged through, before pulling out a small, clear plastic container. He handed it to Allaire and then sat down at the computer screen.

  Everett held his face with his hands and watched, as if Kyle making a sandwich in California might reveal the answers to the greatest mysteries of the universe.

  Allaire opened a small, travel-size sewing kit and started wrapping a spool of thread around a needle over and over, leaving the sharp tip exposed. Kyle’s attention was split between watching Allaire work—cool and efficient, like she was in his cell earlier—and watching himself on screen.

  “Kyle, honey, you ever get a tattoo?” she asked.

  “No,” he answered. He didn’t like the way Allaire acted when Everett was around, and he really didn’t like that she hadn’t told him she was married. She was talking to him like he was her nephew or something. Perhaps she never envisioned bringing Kyle to 2060, but still . . .

  Allaire walked up to the monitor, just as 2060 Kyle walked out of the picture for a minute, leaving his sandwich on the table. “I’m gonna mark the back of his neck, just below the shirt line,” Allaire said to Everett, who nodded, still unable to break his eyes away.

  “I’m going to have to give you a small tattoo right here,” she said, touching the back of his neck in a way that made Kyle’s entire back twinge.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Just hold still,” she answered.

  Allaire worked quickly and Kyle grimaced through it, trying not to yelp as she pricked the back of his neck repeatedly. In a few minutes it was over and she tossed the homemade tattoo needle onto the desk in front of the bank of security monitors. She turned back to the screen and looked at the time stamp in the corner.

  She used two compact mirrors to show Kyle the uneven circle now permanently affixed to the back of his neck in blue ink.

  The three of them sat with their eyes glued to the monitor, watching Kyle eat his sandwich.

  “I need to talk to you when you have a moment,” Everett whispered to Allaire, but loudly enough so Kyle could hear. “Alone.”

  “One second, Ev,” she said. “Watch.”

  They sat waiting, as Everett tapped the pillar key nervously on the desk.

  They watched as Kyle on the screen got up and brought his dish over to the sink. When he turned his back to the camera—probably located on a satellite miles above his apartment—it was clear as day. There, on the back of that Kyle’s neck, was the same tattoo Allaire had just put on this Kyle’s.

  “I just don’t understand it,” Everett said, slamming his hands down on each side of the keyboard as he got up. Allaire stood up right after him, and they headed out of the room. “The only other person like this is Ayers.”

  “We’ll be right back, Kyle,” Allaire said, cutting him off. Kyle watched them head up the stairs and around the perimeter of the silo to a room three levels up.

  Kyle wondered who Ayers was. Perhaps he was in charge, Kyle thought. Whoever he was, they shared something. Kyle just wasn’t sure what that something was. And neither did Everett or Allaire. In any case, with each passing moment, Kyle was more certain that he didn’t belong here. At least not yet.

  He kept coming back to his conversation with Allaire on the bus. She said her job was to fix things that went wrong when people time weaved. Well, if she could fix things, why couldn’t he fix the bus crash? So what if the universe didn’t want him to? Thirteen lives were at stake for crying out loud, and Kyle felt a renewed sense that maybe he could take everything he’d learned from going back twice already and actually stop the crash from happening now. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure that he could fix things this time. Allaire said it was impossible, but he just saw that she didn’t have all of the answers.

  If he could stop the crash, he could go live in 2016 without being in prison. And without being responsible for twelve kids being killed. His last try had failed, and the terrible result had made him lose focus. Now that he had been to 2060, and seen a little bit about how it all works, he felt ready.

  I don’t want to be the person who gives up, he thought to himself.

  He looked over the railing, down at the pillar only a few feet below. Then, he looked up at Everett and Allaire, three platforms up above him. He could see them look down at him from time to time. It was obvious they were talking about him. He was curious about what they’d all seen on the screen, but didn’t trust that they’d share the whole story with him.

  Kyle got up and walked to the screen, staring at himself. It was him, no question. He was sitting at a table now, reading a book. Kyle wondered what his years between now and then held, and what, if anything, he could do to change those years, for better or worse.

  Deep inside of him, Kyle felt that if he stayed here, he would never end up there, at that table, looking like a free man. He had no idea when Everett and Allaire would let him leave, especially in light of this new development.

  He saw the key to the pillar sitting on the desk and remembered that Allaire had left a silk blot inside of the glove compartment. He grabbed the key, ran down the spiral staircase and hustled for the vehicle. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

  CHAPTER 15

  July 22, 2060

  * * *

  Moments later

  The sliding door to the pillar opened easily when he pulled the handle. Everett and Allaire were already bounding down the stairs toward him.

  Kyle walked toward the glove compartment where Allaire had left her silk blot, then stopped and took a seat in the pilot’s console, jamming the key into the same spot where he’d seen it before. If he couldn’t close the door on the pillar, there was no way he was going to be able to get into the silk blot before they could stop him.

  He searched the control panel for a button to close the door, but there were at least a hundred gauges and butto
ns on the console in front of him. He found controls for the “Magnidrive Optical Input” and the “Vertical Calibration Stabilizer,” but didn’t see anything just labeled “doors.” The screen above him came down and he saw a huge, electronic map of New York City.

  As the pillar’s engine began to roar, the side door of the silo flipped open. Kyle tested the controls and was able to point the nose of the pillar using the steering tool in front of him. He felt the vehicle rise and he was hovering now a few feet off the ground, powered by strong downward jets.

  “Kyle! No!” Allaire screamed out. Kyle could only see her head through the open door. She looked panicked. “We need your help! Please, just power it down.”

  “Who’s Ayers?” Kyle yelled back.

  “He’s the one we need to find,” she yelled. “We need to stop him.”

  “Why?” he answered.

  “I’ll tell you everything I know,” she yelled. “I promise.”

  “I need to help those kids,” he yelled back. He wanted to jump right into the silk blot, but every time he took his hands off the steering device, the pillar started to float slowly toward the ground. He didn’t know the controls well enough to keep it hovering while he grabbed the silk blot.

  “Those kids are supposed to die, Kyle,” she screamed. “That’s just the way it is. Please come out here and just talk to us.”

  Kyle looked away from her when he shouted, “I just don’t see it that way. I can’t see it that way.” Then he glanced down at his armrest and saw a button with a tiny picture of a lock on it. He pressed it and the side door to the pillar slid shut. Allaire had saved him from the Tigres. She deserved better than this betrayal, but he owed even more to the twelve kids on the bus.

  He pulled back on the steering device and the pillar lurched forward out of the silo and up into the air, knocking the back of Kyle’s head against the seat. He winced, his neck still very sore from the impromptu tattoo session. The pillar shot up quickly, rising above Everett and Allaire’s silo. When he pushed in on the steering tool, the pillar slowed down and Kyle leveled out. It was nighttime, and from up in the air, Kyle could already tell it was a different world. The City that Never Sleeps was almost completely dark, and Kyle couldn’t spot a soul. It looked like every other building was gutted and partially collapsed. Everything he could see down below was thanks to the glow of the moon.