Pick the Plot

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Pick the Plot Page 8

by James Riley


  Owen sighed deeply. “So let me guess. You want me to be bait.”

  The woman half smiled at him. “Now you get it. But you’ll have to follow my instructions exactly. If it bites into you, I’m not going to be able to get around your body to find the code in the time I have.”

  “Also, I’d be eaten!” Owen shouted.

  “You’d be fine come morning,” she said with a shrug. “Now come on, unless you want your friend to be the bait instead.”

  Owen gritted his teeth but followed her out into the path back to the starting point.

  The air lock came into sight right as time restarted, so the woman had them hide in the jungle to the side of the path until it refroze again. The nearby T. rex seemed to have given up on them and gone back for easier prey in the air lock, though it still couldn’t bypass the barrier to reach the prisoners inside.

  After time stopped again, Owen could see a few of the prisoners gawking at the dinosaur. None of them stepped even a foot outside the air lock.

  “It moves about ten feet per second, I’d estimate,” the woman told Owen, pushing him out onto the path. “So you need to stand around, say, forty-five feet from it or so.”

  “I don’t know about your math,” Owen said, walking slowly toward the monster. Not to mention that he had no idea what forty-five feet even looked like. His whole body shook as he moved closer, and a little voice in his head screamed at him to run, flee, get away from this thing. But knowing Kara was back in the woods unconscious, he forced himself to keep moving. Finally, what he guessed was around fifty feet away (not forty-five, because that was way too close), he stopped.

  “Now don’t move,” the bald woman said from the jungle just to his side. “If it has to chase you, this isn’t going to work. But remember, don’t let it close its jaws around you either.”

  “Oh, okay, I’ll try to keep that in mind!” Owen shouted at her.

  “Here it comes,” the bald woman said, melting back into the jungle as time clicked on again.

  Five. The T. rex turned and spotted Owen. It roared loudly, then started stomping toward him, its eyes focused on his.

  Four. Owen’s legs shook so hard he could barely keep his feet, but he hugged his arms around his body and gritted his teeth, willing himself as hard as he could not to move.

  Three. The creature’s footsteps shook the ground beneath him, and fear almost made Owen’s brain shut down, but a little part of him still felt hope. The creature was still so far away . . .

  Two. Just one more second. He might actually survive this after all!

  And then the dinosaur lunged forward, its enormous jaws wide open—

  THE T. REX EATS OWEN.

  Turn to page 357.

  THE T. REX FREEZES WITH ITS MOUTH OPEN RIGHT IN FRONT OF OWEN.

  Turn to page 170.

  TIME TO GET OUT OF HERE. GO TO THE EXIT DOOR.

  The thought hit Owen like an earthquake in his brain, and he stumbled a bit. What? You have the code already? But I just got here! Not that he was complaining or anything. The sooner he got out of this place and got back to Jupiter City to rescue Bethany, the better. But still, it seemed like he’d skipped a bunch of steps.

  Unless . . . was this not actually his first day in the prison? And if not, how many times had he been through this? If the readers already had the code, did that mean he’d actually finished all three challenges? And somehow survived?

  Or even worse, what if he hadn’t survived each time?

  He rubbed his arms and legs, just to make sure they were real and hopefully had never been in a dinosaur’s stomach. There was no way of knowing what might have happened during those lost days, so it was probably better not to think about it. And hey, maybe the readers just cheated and flipped through the book until they found the exit code. If that was the case, then this really could be his first day here! . . . Right?

  “I, um, think we should just try the exit door,” Owen told Kara.

  She looked surprised. “You’ve already got the code? How did you do it?”

  You better have the code, readers! Or this is going to be really, really embarrassing.

  “Oh, you know, I’ve got my nonfictional ways,” he said, forcing a smile.

  She half smiled and hugged him tightly. “I knew you’d find it. But I didn’t think even you could make it happen so quickly!”

  Even him? She was acting like he wasn’t someone who messed up all the time. That right there was proof that she couldn’t know him very well.

  She paused, then looked up at him. “I thought we’d have more time to hang out, too,” she said quietly. “I didn’t realize it’d be over so soon.”

  Owen turned bright red and patted her on the back. “Me either. So I’m not sure how we’re going to convince the Countess that we have the code. Any ideas?”

  Kara stepped back, looking thoughtfully at the exit door. “How fast do you think you can input the code?”

  Owen frowned. Right. He still didn’t actually have the numbers. Readers? Can you tell me the code now? That might help me get out faster.

  He waited, counting to thirty, but there was no response. Great. Huge help. Not only are you trying to control me, but when I actually could use your assistance, you’re nowhere to be found. I hate all of you.

  “It might take a minute,” he said finally.

  Kara nodded, then grabbed both of his shoulders, staring into his eyes intently like a coach before a big game. “Okay. I’ll get you that minute. But you have to promise me that as soon as the door opens, you go through, then close and lock it, no matter what. Do you promise?”

  He stared back nervously, not sure what she was implying. Of course he knew she’d turned herself in to the Time Security Agency to be put in the Jules Verne Memorial Time Prison. But how could she not leave if she had the chance? She’d be trapped here forever, locked up with the worst time criminals in all of history. She couldn’t just stay behind. It didn’t make any sense!

  “I’m not helping you if you don’t promise,” Kara said, narrowing her eyes. “This is the only way it’s going to work. Get yourself to the door, and I’ll do the rest, but only if you leave immediately. Do you promise? ”

  He wanted to say no, that he wasn’t going to just abandon her here. That this place might have good food and comfy couches, but this wasn’t life, and whatever she thought she’d done (or was going to do), she didn’t deserve this, no matter what.

  But if he didn’t go, then Nobody would find Bethany, and both the fictional and nonfictional worlds would suffer.

  “I promise,” he said finally, hating himself for it.

  Kara smiled sadly, then hugged him close again. “It was so good to see you, Owen. Even for just a few minutes. Hopefully we had fun getting the codes. It’d be nice to remember, but that’s okay, I have plenty of memories of you already.”

  Owen frowned but hugged her back, letting go as he saw other prisoners giving them a strange look. Kara nodded, then pushed him on his shoulder. “Get moving.”

  Owen obediently began walking in a purposefully casual manner toward the exit door. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the Countess watching him closely from where she guarded the door, but he made sure not to look directly at her in any way.

  When he was about ten feet away, the Countess moved to block his path. Apparently his casual act hadn’t been believable enough. “And what exactly are you doing?” she asked, raising her gloved hand into the air as it began to glow.

  “Hey, old woman!” Kara shouted from a few yards away on the other side of the Countess. “I think we’re all bored with you telling us what to do. Why don’t you go find the exit code while the rest of us sit around here?”

  The Countess’s face turned several different colors at once, and she hissed like a snake. “You dare address me in such a manner? Paradox or not, I will destroy you, girl!”

  “As if you could,” Kara said, stepping on top of a table and putting her hands on her hips. “Do you
know who I am? Do all of you know who I am?!” Several of the prisoners began to murmur among themselves, but Kara didn’t give them a chance to respond. “I’m Kara Dox, and old lady, I eat people like you for breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day, you know.”

  At the mention of her name, several of the prisoners stepped back nervously, mumbling even louder.

  “That can’t be her, can it?”

  “She’s so young.”

  “But what if it is her? Have you heard what she’s going to do?”

  Owen paused midsneak toward the exit door, his curiosity about Kara winning out. What had all of the prisoners heard that he hadn’t?

  But no, this was Kara’s distraction, and she was giving him time to escape. He couldn’t waste that, no matter how much he wanted to know her future. As Kara kept shouting at the Countess, Owen slowly resumed his sneaking toward the door.

  “I’ve ended civilizations and restarted extinct species,” Kara continued, pacing along the table, hands still on her hips as she kicked various food items off. “I’ve eaten spiders just to prove I could.” (Someone murmured, “Uh, gross?”) “I’ve seen the dawn of creation and the end of the universe. I’m the worst time criminal that will ever exist, and if I get out, I’m going to destroy all of time and space. Now that we know who I am, let’s just ask: Who do you think you are, Countess?”

  The Countess looked like she was about to explode. “Who am I, child? The world quakes at my—”

  “I actually already did the whole ‘I’m awesome, here’s who I am’ speech,” Kara said, interrupting. “Maybe try something different?

  “I’m the Countess of Sirius VIII,” the white-haired woman shouted as a bald woman moved to stand behind her. “I’ve killed more Time Security agents than will ever exist. I’ve—”

  “No you haven’t,” Kara said.

  The Countess stopped. “Yes I have.”

  “Physically impossible. Stop lying.”

  Prisoners around them began to gasp. “The Time Security Agency lives in fear that I’ll escape,” the Countess shouted. “In all probability, I have already destroyed this prison to rescue myself!”

  “In all probability, you need a shower,” Kara said, holding her nose.

  “You will show me respect!” the Countess shouted.

  “Not in all probability!” Kara shouted back.

  What was she doing? Even as a distraction, this was going too far! Owen took another step, his eyes on Kara, and bumped into something. He immediately jumped backward, ready to fight, but it turned out he’d run into the exit door. Whoops! At least he’d made it.

  “I will destroy you for all of time,” the Countess said, her voice low and dangerous. She held up her glowing glove, then turned to the rest of the prisoners. “Bring her to me! The first of you who does will be granted a place beside me at my court once we’re free!”

  Uh-oh. Turning from the door, Owen watched as prisoners advanced on Kara, led by the bald woman, whoever she was. He couldn’t just let her be turned into dust by the Countess, no matter how close to escaping he was. He had to help!

  But if he didn’t leave now . . . he might never get another chance. And then what would happen to Bethany? Not to mention both the fictional and nonfictional worlds themselves, if Nobody permanently separated them!

  OWEN SHOULD HELP KARA.

  Turn to page 188.

  OWEN MADE A PROMISE. HE SHOULD PUT THE CODE INTO THE EXIT DOOR AND GET OUT. TO GIVE OWEN THAT CODE, USE YOUR E-READER TO SEARCH THE TEXT IN THIS BOOK FOR THE CODE YOU’VE FOUND, FOLLOWED BY A HASHTAG SO THAT THE EXIT DOOR ACCEPTS THE CODE (Example: 123#). (IF YOU HAVE PROPERLY VISITED ALL THREE AIR LOCKS AND FOUND THE CORRECT CODE, I WILL CONFIRM THE CODE IS CORRECT ON THAT PAGE AND THAT PAGE ALONE. IF YOU DON’T SEE A NOTE FROM ME, TURN BACK TO PAGE 1, AS OWEN WILL HAVE ENTERED THE WRONG CODE AND RESTARTED TIME FOR THE ENTIRE PRISON.)

  STAY IN BED. REST UP. YOU’RE GOING TO NEED IT.

  The calming thought floated through his mind, and suddenly all the fear of the moment seemed to fade away. Things couldn’t really be that bad. Why not just sleep for a few more hours and see how the world looked then?

  Sure, that seemed like an odd thing to do, all things considered, but the drowsy feeling came on so powerfully, it was hard to fight.

  “Maybe just five minutes,” Owen whispered, and slowly felt himself slipping away into sleep.

  Just as he drifted off, a loud voice split through his head, and his eyes flew open to find the entire room lit up.

  “Good morning, prisoners. Welcome to the last day of your life!” said a voice from speakers in the ceiling, and Owen’s eyes widened. He slowly pushed himself out of bed, the drowsiness now completely gone, and quietly slid over to what appeared to be an open jail cell door. He put his back to the wall, wondering a few things all at once:

  Had Nobody stuck him in jail?

  Why was the door open?

  Who was this voice?

  What did they mean, the last day of his life?

  Turn to page 177.

  Owen stood in the small room by himself, ready to punch the wall, his older self, or anything else he could get his hands on. Why wouldn’t this work for him? Future Owen had explained exactly how to do it, but no matter how hard he tried, Owen just couldn’t open a page to another book.

  “Just keep practicing—you’ll get it,” his future self told him before leaving with Kara to go over whatever it was that she had been panicking about earlier. Owen had considered pushing the issue and making them talk about it in front of him, but neither seemed to want him to know about the future, which was incredibly ironic, considering where they were.

  “Imagine the book you want to travel to,” Owen whispered to himself, repeating his future self’s words. He brought to mind Jupiter City, with the Apathetic Industries building, the Second Cousins headquarters, and the rest, picturing it in his head as clearly as he could. That part was all well and good. But the second part was the impossible bit.

  “The fictional world was literally built by magic,” his older self had said. “And you can use that. Science follows logical rules, uses implicit controls already existing within reality. But magic is chaos, and is open to anything if you ask the right way. That’s how Nobody can rewrite himself. He views himself as a character in a story, and magic responds accordingly. If you believe that you’re in a story now too, and need to pass between pages, the magic will make it happen. Just believe, and then ask.”

  I believe I’m going to beat up my older self the next time I see him. Why did this have to be so difficult? And hadn’t it taken his future self ten years to figure it out, but now Owen was expected to somehow learn it in ten minutes? This wasn’t going to work!

  Sigh. He had to stop all of the negative thoughts. They weren’t helping, even if no one but he and the readers would know about them. Weirdly, those readers might have come in handy right about now, if they chose to decide that he suddenly had the power to travel between stories. Of course, his older self had said he could invite them back, like a vampire or something, but that meant he’d lose control of his life again. So instead, they’d just stay up there reading, powerless to change the story.

  Trust me, I know how it feels.

  Okay, he had to try again. Owen closed his eyes and concentrated on Jupiter City, right down to the look of the cement in the sidewalks. Gritting his teeth, Owen raised a hand in the air, telling himself over and over that when he grabbed at nothing, this magic reality would rip like a page in a book and open a doorway into Doc Twilight’s world. It would work. It had to work.

  Owen closed his fingers on nothing, then slowly pulled down, hearing a ripping noise in his mind. Finally, he opened one eye, then growled in frustration.

  No page, no doorway, nothing.

  “I can’t do this!” he shouted, flopping onto the cot face-first. He moaned into the mattress, then turned over, rubbing his palms into his eyes while mumbling evil things about magic. This was
so useless.

  And then something occurred to him. Why did he even have to learn, anyway? Couldn’t his older self just open a page to Jupiter City? It might be easier if Owen himself could do it, but it wasn’t necessary.

  Owen jumped up off the cot and threw open the door, wondering where Kara and older Owen had gone. Voices from across the hallway didn’t sound like theirs, so Owen moved farther down, stopping to listen at each door. Most rooms were either empty or just silent (hard to tell which), but at the very last door he recognized Kara, and she didn’t sound happy.

  “It could happen at any time, then! Where am I right now?”

  “The Countess has you,” Owen’s older self said. “She has more than one of your selves locked away in her prime time line, wherever that is. I’ve been searching for it for years, but I was never as good at this as you are, and I keep getting beaten by paradoxes. But I have one final plan that I think—”

  “No!” Kara shouted at him. “Don’t you get it, Owen? Whatever that plan is . . . you know what will happen. It’s what always happens! No matter how I change the time lines, I can’t fix this. I’ve tried so many things to stop it . . . all of my selves have. But nothing works.”

  “Kara, listen to me,” his older self said. “You and I have had this conversation at least a thousand times. But I’ve done what I had to do with my younger self, and if I can help free this reality from the Countess, then it’ll be worth it.”

  “I’m not letting you go. If the me of this time line isn’t here to stop you, then I will.”

  There was a pause. “You can’t stop me, Kara. And besides, if you stop the Countess from doing away with the TSA, none of this will even exist.” He sighed. “I just wish I could give you the exact time the agency was founded, but I haven’t been able to find it in all the years. How she ever found it is beyond me.”

 

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