by Brandt Legg
He didn’t say anything.
“Do you know where they have her?” I demanded.
“I can’t say.”
“You mean you won’t say. Tell me.”
“It would be interfering.”
“Interfering? What does that mean? Are you worried I’ll alter some cosmic plan? Afraid if I know where my Aunt Rose is before it’s time, I’ll end up missing an appointment with a mystic? Maybe they’ll tell me something I’m not supposed to know yet. I can’t believe you.”
I pushed the rocks nearest me into the fire.
“Who made you God?”
I left him there.
51
I walked back to my tent. The Old Man was sitting on a log nearby. “About time!”
I wasn’t in the mood for another mystic, but needed to get to Wizard Island. “Looking for me?”
“I’m not sitting here waiting for a train.”
I should just call Fitts and offer to trade myself for Dustin. I wasn’t one of the seven. Someone made a big mistake. I wasn’t cut out for any of this.
“Can you take me to Wizard Island later?”
“That’s why I’m here. Come get me when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded once, then started walking away.
“How will I find you?”
“Come to the shore, anywhere, I’ll be there.”
My cell phone found a signal on the picnic table, but Kyle’s phone went to voicemail; I left a message changing the meeting time to ten-thirty. He’d have to cut a few classes, but his perfect grades could handle it. Dustin couldn’t afford any more hours. The bigger question was would he hold together if we were chased. Mom would probably love to hear from me and a call was important just in case I didn’t make it back, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Amber’s friendly voice would have been nice, but it was too coincidental how Lightyear kept locating me. Kyle was right; Amber was the only one who knew where I was every time they attacked. I didn’t want to believe it but couldn’t take any chances two hours before taking the battle to Lightyear. Spencer said the Lightyear psychics couldn’t track me yet. He tried to explain all the reasons, but my head started hurting again. I took his word for it.
I meditated for an hour then watched Dustin on the astral. He was still lying there not moving, possibly dead. I studied the guards, the layout of the house and property again. It was time. At the cove, Spencer was gone; the Old Man came out of the trees.
“Ready?”
“No, but I’m going anyway. I mean, yes, I think I’m ready.”
“Take in the calm of the water while we go across. Let it fill you with its energy. The vortex can make you see what is normally blind to you.”
There was a quiet peace once we were on the island. The lake recharged me and stripped away any doubts, including all other remaining options; it focused my energy on the most important priority, rescuing my brother.
“Spencer said to tell you, ‘Fitts is on his way here to kill you.’”
“To the lake? How did he find me?”
“I don’t know anything. That’s all he said about that.”
“That’s great news. He won’t be at the house. Maybe I have a chance.”
No one was on the island. It wasn’t clear if it was too early for tourists or if the Old Man fiddled with the boats again. We walked the trail to the top of the cone in silence. Looking down into the crater for a moment, the Old Man put his arm around my shoulders.
“Spencer said to tell you one last thing. ‘Trust the universe.’” He looked at me and smiled. “There’s power in you, boy. You can do this.”
I threw myself into the crater and seconds later Dustin was in front of me, heaped on the floor just where I’d last seen him. Fate was on my side, as I could reach him without stepping out of the portal. Being this close, I realized he was even worse than I thought and could die any moment. He was heavy, but my strength had increased because of the vortex at the lake and the power of the portal. Unfortunately, the door to his room was ajar.
Dustin cried out when I moved him. A shocked guard entered—only my upper body was visible outside the portal—and he came at us. I’m not sure what happened, but there was a struggle. Somehow I pulled Dustin into the portal, but the guard wrestled me out. As the portal closed, enveloping Dustin, I managed, in my mind, to order him transported home but had no idea if it would work. He might wind up on Wizard Island or even in some other time or dimension. I’d have to worry about that later. He was out of the clutches of Lightyear and Fitts at last.
The guard pinned me, but I used Gogen to send one of Dustin’s discarded shoes flying into his head. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but I broke free when he turned to see who threw it. Instead of psychic skills, it was the power of my kicking his head with all my strength that sent him reeling backward, dazed. It was a perfect hit. I grabbed the gun from his shoulder holster and, just before he yelled for help, brought it crashing across his face just like I’d seen Ray Liotta do in Goodfellas. There was blood everywhere, and I think he was actually crying. I thought of Fitts beating Dustin and I hit him again, knocking him out.
The outside guards hadn’t shown, presumably still stationed on the wrap-around deck. I caught my breath and went on the astral to see where they were; one was on the east side, the other on the north. I was in the bedroom on the south side. The east guard would be there soon, so I had to move fast. Attack or run?
I quickly made two Lusans and cradled them in my left arm while holding the gun in my right hand. I wanted to flee, but if my timing was wrong, I’d be caught, or worse. Attack or run? Time to decide. Just as I was running toward the door, the east guard spotted me through a window. He called the other guard. I fired a shot at the window. The force of it surprised me, and the gun flew from my hand.
I ran downstairs, two at a time. The basement had a few windows and a door leading outside. It was secured from the inside with a two-by-four screwed across it. I scanned for tools, nothing. They were coming down the steps now, knowing I’d be trapped. I moved back across to the other side of the room. When the first one emerged from the stairway, I threw a Lusan. It wasn’t possible to see what happened, but the men screamed as wood and drywall shattered.
Sending the other Lusan through a window, I followed it out, slicing my arm on a piece of glass, and raced down an old deer trail. The first shot whistled passed, so I tumbled into the thick brush and clawed my way through until I reached a small clearing. Apparently, at least one guard survived the Lusan attack.
Trees obscured the house, so I couldn’t see where they were, but I knew from my astral observations that the long gravel driveway came from the road then made a sweeping half-mile circle around the house. The property was crisscrossed with fences, old tractor roads, and trails. Farms, orchards, and a vineyard surrounded the whole place. My escape route would not be simple. Getting my bearings, it seemed easiest to go back up the driveway, past the house, then down a sloping field to my rendezvous point with Kyle—if he’d gotten the message. I figured the one or two surviving guards would follow me into the trees and never guess I’d head back to the house. No better alternative surfaced in the seconds available to decide.
After navigating through more brambles, the barbed wire fence bordering the gravel driveway was in front of me. I got over it quickly, ran along the opposite fence line, around a curve and up the small hill until I could see the house again. No guards in sight. I jogged off a side trail parallel to the driveway. A grove of young trees shielded me from the house.
“Freeze!” shouted a guard from behind.
Did he still have orders to take me alive? Fitts said he was coming to kill me, so it was unlikely. I turned slowly. Ten feet away, he leveled his gun.
“Don’t move, kid,” he held my stare as he slowly approached.
I was about to be taken into custody and then likely tortured at the hands of Fitts and probable death. I summoned all t
hat I had learned, called upon every mystic I’d met, and prayed to every god I’d ever heard of in my life. It was for this moment that Spencer had asked me to make the seagull sleep. The guard was very close now, our eyes still locked.
“Now listen, you punk, raise your hands slowly.”
I did as ordered.
“That’s it. Good, good. Now turn around and start marching to the house.”
I just stared.
“Turn around, or I’ll shoot you right here. I’m not going to ask again.”
It was working.
“Hey! What the hell? You’re doing some kind of voodoo on me—”
He dropped at my feet. His gun was under his body, and I didn’t know how long he would be out, maybe just seconds. I turned and ran.
Crossing back onto the driveway, I headed in the direction of the road. It was very likely that the Lusan at the house had left the other guard out of commission because he hadn’t appeared again. I’d taken out three federal agents; my adrenaline was pumping. I was going to make it.
The roar of a car engine caused me to turn. A cloud of dust and small rocks spewed as the car barreled toward me. I froze. If only I’d taken that gun. Panic. Could I make a Lusan? At the very last second, I dove from its path. Untangling from a rose bush and stumbling to my feet, I gripped dirt and grass trying to get up a steep slope. The car skidded on the gravel and stopped thirty feet away. Breathlessly clawing my way up, I heard a wounded agent yelled from the house, “Fitts, he’s getting away. There, up the hill!”
Fitts? I thought he was at the lake looking for me. Why was he back here? I started trembling. Desperately fighting the hill, weed, and sticks slicing my hands, I climbed. Fitts’ first shot was nowhere near me. The second grazed the ground as I got to my feet and pushed myself into a run. It was his third shot that knocked me back down, my left shoulder hit. Blood covered me too fast, and pain took control of my thoughts.
There was no time to recover. I scurried through leaves, got behind a tree, then struggled to stand. Fitts had stopped to aim and was only now starting after me. My lead was still considerable, but I was choking for air and shaking. Somehow, with the crest of the hill behind me and temporarily out of his sight, I kept climbing higher. Thick underbrush, cedars, and pines slowed my progress, but eventually I reached another fence line on a small ridge. The hill, covered with dense trees, fell steeply toward a barn just beyond the road. I hoped it would take me to Kyle, so I kept moving.
My shoulder was on fire, my arm numb, and my bleeding increased. I leaned against a large ponderosa and started making a Lusan. A figure, most likely Fitts, cut across the hill. He hadn’t seen me yet. I quickly Skyclimbed the other side of the tree, but halfway up I nearly fell. Clutching a bulky branch, I fought my way in toward the trunk. The loss of blood was robbing my strength. More than thirty feet off the ground and safe for the moment, I woozily pushed my back into the trunk to steady myself. I finished the Lusan, balanced precariously on three narrow limbs. The bullet had passed through—I knew from movies that this was a good thing. The healing orb pressed against my wound helped me slow my breathing.
A crowded stand of mature trees protected me. A few minutes later, someone passed close to my hiding place but kept going. “Thank you,” I whispered. His DHS ball cap and familiar blue parka were visible through the branches about fifty yards away. For all he knew I’d escaped. Moving the Lusan back and forth between the entry and exit holes in my shoulder eased the pain, and after about ten minutes, the bleeding stopped completely. Ten more minutes passed before the crunch of footsteps passed again, very near, as Fitts headed back to the house.
Seven minutes more and the healing was good enough—two indentations, thick scabs, and my very red and swollen shoulder was battle-ready. I Skyclimbed to the top of the tree and caught a quick blur of the guard I had dropped into sleep, talking with Fitts on the driveway. This was my chance, if my strength held. I Skyclimbed from tree to tree, heading down the hill, away from them and toward the road.
The cover of trees gave way to a pasture dotted with blackberry and wild rose bushes. I came down hard, my strength slipping, and cut a leg vaulting over a barbed wire fence. I had clear, open field now, making an easy target. One last barrier and then the road. I tried to vault the fence, took a jolt, and burned myself as the top wire was electrified. I ran full speed up the narrow country road, crested a rise, and spotted the Subaru. Kyle saw me too; he started his car and raced toward me. He must have been waiting there for more than an hour. I jumped into the car.
“Go!”
“Where’s Dustin?” Kyle was sweating and shaking.
“Get me out of here! We can’t go that way.”
He screeched a U-turn and misjudged; the car strained to escape the ditch. His hands were trembling on the steering wheel.
“Are you all right?” he asked, while watching and speeding down the narrow road.
“Turn here fast, and head back to town!”
“Where’s Dustin?” he repeated, his face dripping sweat.
“I don’t know. Whirling through time somewhere.”
“He’s dead?”
“I don’t know. I’m hoping he’s at my house.”
“How? Why would he be there?
“I put him in a portal—like a wormhole—and sent him to my house.”
“Seriously? That’s incredible . . . Oh man, whose blood is that all over you?”
“Mine.”
It wouldn’t be long before they were searching the area.
“What happened back there? Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” But I wasn’t feeling well at all.
“We’re going to your house, right?
“Uh-huh.”
“What if he’s not there?”
“We head back to the lake. Stop the car, quick, I’m going to be sick.” I got the car door open before he stopped and threw up. I was sweating and very cold.
“Man, you look terrible.”
“I’ll be okay.” I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again we were in my driveway. Kyle was standing outside my door.
“We’re here. Are you gonna make it?”
“Yeah, yeah. How long was I out?”
“Ten minutes.”
“I think that helped. I’m really feeling better.”
“How long do you think we have before Fitts shows up here?”
“I don’t know. I wish there’d been time to think of someplace else to send him. All we can do is hope Fitts wouldn’t dream I’d be dumb enough to come to my house. And if Dustin’s not here, we’ll be gone in a few minutes,” I said.
“But if he is, we may not be able to move him for a while,” Kyle said, worried.
52
I hadn’t been home in two weeks. It felt foreign, as if I were wandering through an old dream. After checking the ground floor, we moved upstairs. The steps left me winded, and my shoulder was bleeding again. We found Dustin slumped in the doorway to his old bedroom, his eyes open. Kyle was utterly amazed.
“Wormholes are just a fringe theory, and you just proved—”
“Okay, we’ll publish in a science journal later, but right now, help me get him into bed.”
“Dustin, can you walk?” I asked. He looked a little better than when I found him earlier. Maybe the portal helped. “Dustin?”
He didn’t move.
I got right in front of his face. “Dustin, are you in there?”
He blinked.
“Was that an answer?”
His lips moved, but no sound.
We carried him to his bed. I glanced out the window as we laid him down. Crowd, the mystic who burned the money, was standing on the sidewalk looking up at me. Our eyes met.
“Kyle, we’ve got to go! We’ve got to go now!”
“What?”
“Fitts is on his way.”
“When?”
“Any minute.” I ran to my room and scooped up a comforter and some clothes. Kyle had Dustin back in
the hall by the time I got back. Dustin cried out several times as we negotiated him down the stairs and burst out the front door. Crowd was gone. I held Dustin up while Kyle opened the hatchback, folded down the backseats, and spread out the comforter. Then we painfully laid Dustin inside. We made it to Main Street without seeing Fitts.
“I think you both need to be in a hospital.”
“No!” I was fading again.
The next thing I remember was Linh’s face. I was on a bed, and she was holding a cold wet washcloth to my forehead. “Where?” I pulled myself up and pushed her out of the way. “Dustin?”
“It’s okay,” Linh gently grabbed me. “Dustin is right here.” She pointed to the next bed. Bà was tending him. We were in a motel room somewhere. I only had boxers on. She eased me back down.
“Kyle?”
“Kyle insists on watching the parking lot. He’s out there sitting in his car but asked me to get him when you woke.” She walked to the window and stuck her hand between the curtains.
“How long?”
“We got here three hours ago. I’m not sure when you did. It’s around six now.”
“How’s Dustin?” I closed my eyes.
“Not great. Bà’s been getting some herbs into him, but he has cracked ribs and deep bruises everywhere, a broken leg and an arm already setting wrong. What happened to you guys?” She touched my gunshot wound softly.
“I need to make a Lusan.” I tried to sit up.
Linh pushed me back down. “You can’t do anything right now.”
Bà dripped some kind of tea or potion into Dustin’s swollen mouth with an eyedropper. His face was a mess. Spencer had been right; they hadn’t wanted to kill him, just make me go there.
“I shouldn’t be here. Lightyear always finds me.”
Kyle came in while I was talking. “The only people who know we’re here are in this room right now. Lightyear isn’t going to find us because Amber doesn’t know where you are.”
“What are you talking about Kyle?” Linh asked.