Deadlock Trilogy

by P. T. Hylton

  Sophie turned back toward Zed. They’d spent so much time with him over the past seven years. He’d sat in the Rough-Shod Readers meetings with them. Sophie and Frank had often speculated about whether he’d somehow changed.

  Seeing him standing up there, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach and she knew he hadn’t. Seven years? That was nothing to Zed. The man claimed to have waited nearly a thousand while Sugar Plains, Illinois slowly decayed into Sanctuary. He hadn’t changed at all. The true Zed, this Zed, had merely been hibernating, waiting for his moment to come alive.

  Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, though. Maybe they needed the real Zed right now.

  “For seven years we’ve been hidden away,” Zed continued. “Yes, we’ve been locked away from the rest of the world. My good friend Frank Hinkle used to be a lock builder, and he once told me the name of the type of lock that can only be opened from either side with a key. A deadlock, wasn’t that what it was called, Frank? This town was locked away from the rest of the world as if with a deadlock. It trapped us, yes, but it also kept things out. The things that were chasing me. The things I warned some of you about so long ago.”

  Sophie’s eyes scanned the crowd. They were eating it up. Every eye but hers seemed to be fixed on Zed. She saw her boss at the library, Joe, his jaw set with determination. She saw Matt Campbell, his eyes wide.

  “Make no mistake, they are coming for us, and the world will pay the price.” He leaned forward and spread out his hands to them, showing his vulnerability. “I have one question for you, my townspeople, who have stood so strong through everything that’s happened. Will you stand with me one more time? Will you help me save the world? Will you fight?”

  He stopped, letting the silence hang in the air. The atmosphere was electric with tension.

  To Sophie’s surprise, it was Mason who stepped forward.

  “No,” he said. His voice sounded weak compared with Zed’s, but it carried through the crowd like a shockwave. The man who had just saved them was now standing up to Zed.

  Zed’s smile wavered. “You don’t think it’s important to save the world?”

  Mason licked his lips. “I think it’s important to keep your promises. And you made us a promise. Before the final fight, you promised to bring my parents here. And Sophie’s sister.”

  Sophie’s heart nearly stopped. That had been so long ago. So much had happened. She hadn’t dared hope.

  Mason waved toward the book in Zed’s left hand. “Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t figured out how to use that thing over the past seven years.”

  Zed slowly nodded. “I have learned. I may be able to do what you ask.”

  “Not what I ask. What you promised.”

  Zed nodded curtly. “Yes, yes. Mason, Frank, Sophie, come with me.”

  They followed him to the shed. Christine and Will came with them, even though they hadn’t been asked. That seemed fair. It was Christine’s husband—or ex-husband, Sophie was never clear on that—who might be back from the dead in a few moments after all.

  Sophie had a hard time concentrating while she walked. Thoughts were slippery. One image filled her mind. Heather. Not the picture they’d shown on the news after she’d been killed. Heather as a girl, her hair flying in the wind like it had when they’d dared each other to lean off their parents’ balcony and yell sanctuary. Could Zed actually do it? Could Sophie be moments away from seeing her sister again?

  And if so, what would her sister be like? If Zed pulled her here from just before the murder, she’d be a confused sixteen-year-old who’d suddenly jumped nearly twenty years into the future.

  But that didn’t matter. She’d be alive.

  Zed led them into the shed, and Sophie saw the small twisted tree was still there, same as it had been on the day they’d pulled Rayd through. It didn’t seem to have grown at all since then.

  Zed pulled the door shut and looked around the room at each of them. “If I do this, I have to know you’re with me. You have to join in this fight. No matter what comes of it.”

  He looked at Sophie for confirmation, and she nodded. God help her, she nodded. She didn’t hesitate, not for a moment. Anything to have Heather back.

  Mason agreed just as quickly.

  When Zed turned to Frank, there was a pause.

  “You can do this?” Frank asked.

  “Yes,” Zed said. “I believe I can. Over the years, the book slowly started to reveal itself to me. I can’t use it as well as I used the one in Sanctuary, of course. But I had a thousand years to study that one.” He flipped open the book. “We’ll start with Jake.”

  Zed took a deep breath and moved his finger in a complicated shape across the page.

  A hot white light suddenly burst out of the tree and an opening nearly the size of the tree trunk appeared.

  “My God,” Will said. “He’s actually doing it.”

  Zed shot him a look. “Please be quiet. This is rather precise work.”

  Will mumbled an apology.

  They all stared at the tree. The hole suddenly seemed larger than the tree itself somehow. A dark shape blocked the light coming out of the tree.

  Sophie glanced at Zed. His finger seemed to be moving at impossible angles on the page.

  A man fell through the hole in the tree and hit the floor with a thud.

  “Jake!” Frank cried out.

  And there he was. The man Sophie had seen die in the woods. Jake.

  Jake lifted his head and looked around the room, confused. “What’s happening? Frank?”

  Sophie had a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach. There was blood running from his ear onto the floor.

  Christine gasped.

  Sophie had seen him like this before. “When?” she said, staring up at Zed. “When did you pull him from? Where was he just before you brought him here?”

  Zed sighed. “It was complicated. I had to get him at a very specific moment.”

  “What are you talking about?” Christine asked.

  “We needed to cause as little disruption as possible to the chain of events. After all, Jake died after turning Vee into a tree. We couldn’t pull him through after he was dead, of course. But we couldn’t bring him over too much before it, either. We couldn’t have Vee not be transformed, after all. That would mess up all sorts of things.”

  “Wait a minute,” Frank said. “Are you saying he’s dying? You brought him over as he was dying?”

  “Frank,” Jake said weakly. “I was just talking to you. Through the tree.”

  Frank grabbed Zed by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “What the hell have you done?”

  Zed smiled. “Please be careful. There is a time-and-space-spanning portal hanging open right next to us.”

  “This is not what I asked for!” Frank spat the words in his face.

  “Come on,” Zed said. “I gave you what you wanted. He’s alive. There’s always a chance he’ll stay that way. We do have a doctor in the room, after all.”

  Christine was already on her knees next to Jake, cradling his head in her hands.

  Jake looked up at Christine, his eyes wide. “Christine…what are you doing here? Am I home?”

  “Yes,” she said. “You’re home. I’ve missed you so much.”

  He nodded weakly. “Is Trevor—” Before he could finish the question, a coughing fit took him. He spasmed and coughed wildly, spraying Christine with a mist of blood.

  Christine spun her head around toward Frank and Zed. “What happened to him? What’s doing this?”

  It was Sophie who answered. “I was there. I saw it. He was using a book, the Sanctuary book. And he, I don’t know, he used it too hard or something. It was like something broke inside of him.”

  “Wonderful,” Christine said. “Thanks for the super helpful diagnosis.”

  Sophie resisted the urge to snap back at her. That wouldn’t help.

  Frank slammed Zed against the wall again. “Do something! Fix this!”

 
Zed sighed. “I can’t.”

  “Then bring him through sooner. Before he’s hurt.”

  “What’s done is done. Besides, even if there was a way, I wouldn’t do it. I do that, and maybe Vee kills us all before we even get to this point in time. I won’t risk it.”

  “Kills us all?” Frank asked. “I thought you couldn’t be killed.”

  “Oh, it’s difficult,” Zed said, “but I can be.”

  “Good to know,” Christine muttered from the floor. She reminded Sophie of Logan. Jake certainly seemed to have a type.

  “Look,” Zed said, “I’ve given you a little more time with him. That’s all I can do without putting the entire world at risk. Fix him if you can. If you can’t, enjoy the last few moments before he passes on.”

  Frank grabbed the book off the floor and shoved it into Zed’s hands. “There’s got to be something in there to fix it.”

  “Afraid not,” Zed said.

  Frank pulled Zed toward the tree. “Then I’m pushing you through. Good luck with whatever the hell’s on the other side.”

  Zed sighed. “That’s quite enough.” He backhanded Frank, sending him reeling across the room.

  Frank hit the wall and crumpled to the ground.

  Sophie ran to him.

  Frank looked up at her, his eyes wide, blood from a split lip running down his chin. “I’m okay.”

  Zed took a step toward him. “You and that temper. And you don’t even have the evil little coin to blame it on this time.”

  Jake started coughing again. Will held his head while Christine ran her hands along him, inspecting him for any sign of injury.

  All eyes were on Jake now, but something out of the corner of her eye made Sophie turn. The door to the shed was opening.

  “Um, guys,” Sophie said.

  “Thought I’d find you here.” The voice was female. A tall, blond teenage girl stepped through the door. She was holding a thin sword with an air of familiarity that said she knew how to use it.

  “I don’t know what you did to get King’s Crossing back here,” the young woman said, “but they are not happy. And they’re coming.”

  4.

  Alice looked around the room, squinting, trying to place everyone.

  “Alice,” the man in the corner said. “Alice Campbell.”

  She turned toward him. Something about the way he held himself was familiar. She’d only met him once before, and then only briefly, but she knew him. Her lip curled up in a half smile. “You were in our house the morning I was taken.”

  The man nodded. “My name’s Frank.”

  Another man stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the sword in her hands. “What is that?”

  Alice had never met this man, but she knew him from Wilm’s description. She spun the sword around in her hand and held it so he could see the broken mountain symbol. “Come on, Zed. You of all people should recognize a Tool.”

  He squinted at her. “You work for them?”

  “I do. Well, I did. I guess I just unofficially resigned when I came here to warn you.”

  Up until about two hours ago, she’d been enjoying a day off, which as usual involved hanging out in a small town waiting for her next assignment. In this case, it had been Rupert Falls, Idaho. The town was a dud. One of the lower level scouts had suspected it of being a place of power, of having a book.

  This particular scout was a fifty-three-year-old with white hair down to his shoulders. He passed the message through the official channels, but Alice watched him through the whole process. He’d never seen her, of course, and had no idea who the random teenage girl was at the coffee shop. Or the movie theater. Or the church. She’d kept a low profile and he hadn’t looked at her twice any of those times. No doubt he had no idea he was passing the message to someone nearly forty years his junior. But that was part of the reason she was so effective. Nobody ever suspected who she really was.

  She’d investigated the situation and followed the checklist. Strange but scientifically explainable land form or weather pattern? A history of showing up in folklore and historical documents more than should be expected for a town of its size? An unusually small percentage of residents move out of town? A large number of residents who do leave town end up in powerful positions?

  Rupert Falls was borderline on three of the four, so she understood why the guy had reported it. It made sense on an intellectual level. But this town didn’t have the right feel. She didn’t know how to explain it. She could just feel when it was right.

  So, she’d gotten some time off while she waited for her next assignment. She hoped the downtime would last a while. If not, she could always Pull Back a few times so she could relive the days of relaxation all over again before going back to work. She’d gotten pretty good at Pulling Back. When she was a little kid, she’d tugged on the rope in her mind. Now she just sort of eased it back, leaned against it until time rolled back to where she wanted it to be. It still burned in her mind a little when she did it, but she didn’t mind the pain. It had gotten so she kind of liked it. She could do it without the bosses having a clue. They thought they still had her locked down on that front, and she played it up like she never used it without their permission, even asking, begging for permission sometimes, and pouting when she didn’t get it. But it was almost a reflex now. She didn’t even have to picture the rope most of the time. She just mentally leaned back.

  Then, on the second day of her time off, all hell had broken loose. One minute she’d been in the theater watching some dumb superhero movie about a guy with a green ring fighting a guy with a yellow ring, and the next she was in Wilm’s cabin, a furious Wilm staring down at her.

  “Somehow they got out,” Wilm said without preamble.

  Alice had no idea what Wilm was talking about and said as much.

  “Your people,” Wilm said, the disgust clear on her face. “King’s Crossing.”

  Holy hell, Alice thought. They’d done it. It had to be the Tool she sent through. It had to be.

  There was a crash and the stomping of feet that could only mean Vee was entering the house. After all these years, all the time she’d spent out there on her own, all the creeps she’d faced down and scrapes she’d gotten in, and even with her magic sword, she had to admit: Vee still scared the hell out of her.

  He came through the door, his armless torso almost too large to squeeze through the standard size frame.

  “When are we leaving?” he asked.

  “As soon as San gets here,” Wilm said. “Shouldn’t be long.”

  “Good,” Vee said. “I’m going to tear Zed’s head off.”

  Alice resisted the urge to ask how Vee intended to rip anyone’s head off without any hands.

  A moment later, the statuesque, raven-haired San stepped into the room, as quiet as Vee was loud.

  “We ready to go?” she asked.

  Wilm nodded. “Let’s begin.”

  Alice knew Wilm was about to teleport them. She had to act. She took a deep breath and Pulled Back to one day before. It was a slightly risky move, but it couldn’t be helped. She needed to get to King’s Crossing. And if they lost track of her, they couldn’t teleport her to Wilm’s cabin. At least she thought they couldn’t.

  She drove all day, through the night, and into the next day, making it to King’s Crossing in a cool nineteen hours. Plenty of time.

  Then she waited for the town to reappear, and, when it did, she headed for the shed. She knew it would have to be the shed. That’s where the tree was, and the tree might be the people of King’s Crossing’s only advantage. And the book. If they had figured out how to use it. Now she was in the shed, facing these people, some of whom she used to know and some she’d never met. If this crew was King’s Crossing’s best shot, Alice didn’t like their chances.

  Zed smiled at her. “I used to have your job, you know. I knew a lot of others who did, too. It never ends well.”

  “It wasn’t my choice,” Alice said. “They drafted me.”
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  Mason took a step forward. “We tried to save you. We really did.”

  Jake moaned.

  Alice turned and looked at him. “What’s the matter with him?”

  “He’s dying,” Zed said. “He used a book, one of their books. In the end, it used him up.”

  Before she could answer, there was a cracking sound like thunder.

  Alice gripped her sword. “Okay, Zed, I hope you have a plan. Because they’re here.”

  THE MAN WITH THE WATCH (PART ONE)

  Rook Mountain

  1983

  Zed met with his fellow Toolsmen and Toolswomen in a small diner on the outskirts of town. They sat around a long table. Zed had slipped the owner one thousand dollars to close the restaurant and leave them alone. He sat at the head of the table, partly because he’d called the meeting and partly because he had achieved things the others hadn’t. He was one of them, but he was also the best of them. The first among equals, some might say.

  He’d done what the others had failed to do. He’d brought their masters a ripe and ready town—not once, but four times now— and he’d been rewarded accordingly. As far as he knew, the rest of them around the table were normal humans. Which meant they were killable. But they also had Tools, most of which Zed had never seen with his own two eyes. It would be stupid to attempt to kill them outright.

  It hadn’t been easy to bring the group together. Their masters were careful to keep them isolated. But over the past decade, Zed had slowly wormed his way into the network of communication, asking a question here and another there. Each carefully crafted to be innocent on their own but adding up to something more. The beautiful thing about the network of informants, the vast majority of whom didn’t carry a Tool, was that they each had so little information about each other that they couldn’t gossip about the inquisitive bald man who showed up a bit more frequently than he should.

  The others around the table looked nervous. They’d come because he’d called. They didn’t know each other, but they all knew him. Knew of him, anyway. What he’d done.

  Cindy, a woman with black hair piled on her head in an unfashionable beehive, was the first to speak after they were seated. “You gonna tell us what’s going on?”