Future Lost

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Future Lost Page 9

by Briggs, Elizabeth;

Dr. Walters pushes his glasses back on his nose. “That’s correct, but there might be one exception. It could be someone who previously time traveled, perhaps. Like your older selves.”

  “They were both dead in the future we visited,” Adam says. “But I guess it could be someone else.”

  I shoot Adam a sharp look, hoping he gets the hint to stop talking. I don’t want him to tell Vincent anything about our time in the future, especially since the only people who fit with what Dr. Walters is saying would be Zahra or Paige. One of them might have come back to help us or to escape the hell of that future. I can’t imagine them attacking us and running off, but maybe they’re suffering future shock or have some motive I can’t quite understand. Either way, it’s better if Vincent knows as little as possible.

  And now that my head’s clearing, I notice there’s one person missing from the room.

  “What happened to that girl with the ponytail who was here?” I ask.

  “Nina?” Vincent asks with a frown. “That’s none of your concern.”

  That girl was about the same height and build as the person I glimpsed in the accelerator. Vincent planned to send her to the future to rescue Adam or wanted her to go with me. Maybe he sent her after me because he didn’t trust me to get Adam back on my own or because he wanted someone he could better control to bring him intel from the future. I’m not sure why she’d attack us and escape, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she decided to betray her employer.

  “Did you send her to the future to get us?” I ask.

  He types something else into the computer. “Don’t be absurd. Even if I did, Nina would have no reason to attack us.”

  I spread my hands. “It’s the most likely explanation. Unless someone figured out a loophole to travel back in time.”

  “Impossible,” Dr. Walters says.

  Vincent examines my dusty, bloodstained clothes. “Why don’t you tell us what happened in the future so we can all figure this out?”

  I cross my arms and give him a level stare. “You know I’m not going to tell you that. The plan was that I rescue Adam and then we all go back to our agreement of staying the hell away from each other.”

  “Let me examine you at least,” Dr. Kapur says. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”

  “None of this blood is ours,” I say.

  His lips curl. “Very well, but we don’t know what was in that gas.”

  He makes it sound as if he wants to help us, but I know better. Behind those beady little eyes, he’s thinking of all the data he can collect on us after our fifth trip to the future. All I want to do is go home, but Adam nods. “It’s probably a good idea if we’re checked out,” he says. “Your hand might need stitches.”

  I completely forgot about my bandaged hand. I sigh. “Fine. But make it quick.”

  Dr. Kapur leads us into a room that looks like a tiny doctor’s office. He gestures for us to sit on the exam bed. “Elena first,” he says.

  I let him check my heart, lungs, and blood pressure, but hold up a hand when he reaches for the needles. “Hell no. I remember what you did last time you said you were taking blood.”

  Last time he did an exam on us, he injected us with something that made us pass out. We woke up shortly after and found we were locked inside the accelerator. I don’t trust him with needles around me after that.

  He scowls. “That was different. I promise I only want to run some basic tests.”

  I cross my arms. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m perfectly fine.”

  I use the time to lean against the wall and close my eyes. My head’s been pounding ever since I woke up, and it doesn’t seem like it’ll get better anytime soon. But my eyes snap open when Dr. Kapur says, “Hmm.” He checks his notes and glances at Adam. “That can’t be right.”

  “What is it?” Adam asks.

  “It says you’ve lost eleven pounds.”

  Adam stares at the floor. “Strange.”

  Dr. Kapur shakes his head. “I must have recorded it wrong.”

  “That must be it,” I say.

  Adam and I both know it’s not an error though. My chest tightens thinking about what Adam must have endured during those seventy-three days. What did they even eat in that Militia base? Not much, it sounds like.

  Dr. Kapur finally declares us healthy and lets us leave, but when we walk out of his office, Vincent waves us over.

  “I have the security footage ready,” he says.

  We move beside him and check out the screen, which shows a black-and-white view of the basement with the accelerator on one side. Vincent clicks his mouse, and the video begins to play. Vincent and the two scientists stand outside the accelerator while the door opens, but Nina is nowhere in sight. There’s a sharp, blinding flash from inside the machine, which makes the image scramble. When the feed comes back again, the men are unconscious on the floor while a woman walks past them without hesitation. She’s wearing dark clothes that completely cover her body, including a hood that hides her face, and the camera never gets a good angle on her. Almost like she knew it was there.

  “Not much to go on,” I say. The clothes remind me of what Paige and Zahra were wearing in the future, and they did use smoke bombs to infiltrate the militia, but I can’t believe it was either one of them.

  “I’ll have security see what else they can get,” Vincent says. “Whoever it is, we’ll find her.”

  “Any idea why she was here?” Adam asks. “Did she take anything?”

  “Not that we can tell. I’ll let you know when we have more information.” He shuts off the screen and turns to us. “Until then, be careful. We don’t know what she wants or where she went.”

  “We will.”

  He nods but eyes Adam carefully. “Did you find the information you were seeking in the future?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Adam says.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  I study Vincent’s face, but he seems genuine. I’ve never trusted him, but since the death of his son, he’s changed and become more subdued. And even though his future self locked us up and tried to force us to make a vaccine for him, I understand why he did it—especially after seeing the mayhem the Infected unleashed upon the base. He was trying to protect his people and save the world, and I can’t fault him for that when I’m trying to do the same thing.

  I unlock the door to the apartment, and Max rushes toward us, his tail wagging at top speed. Adam gathers the dog in his arms and buries his face in his fur. It’s been only a few hours since I left, but for Adam, it’s been months.

  “I missed you so much, little guy,” he says. Max responds by trying to lick Adam’s face all over.

  “What was it like, living there for so long?” I ask.

  Adam releases Max and straightens up. “In some ways, it wasn’t too bad. The Militia had food, water, and electricity, although all of those things were carefully rationed out. I was free to move around inside the base, when I wasn’t locked in the lab. But the Infected were outside the walls at all times, and the people inside had a weariness to them I’ve never seen before, even the children. Like they expected death to come for them at any moment.”

  “Were you scared?”

  “I was scared I’d never see you again.” His eyes meet mine, but there’s hesitation in them. “Now I’m scared you’ll never be able to forgive me.”

  “I’m not sure I can.” I wish I had a better answer, but I have to be honest with him.

  His brow furrows, his face pained. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness anyway.”

  Neither one of us moves from the entryway. We stare at each other, waiting for the tension between us to break or for one of us to say something more. We need to have a conversation about what he did and about our future, but I’m not ready for it yet. Neither is he. We’re both exhausted, physically and emotionally, and we’re still wearing our bloodstained clothes. I can’t even remember the last time we ate, and Adam’s already too skinny as it is. We need to show
er and grab some food before we do anything else.

  “You should shower first,” Adam says, as if reading my thoughts. “I’ll feed Max.”

  “You sure?” Yesterday I would have invited Adam to join me, but not anymore. Maybe never again. “It’s been a long time since you were home…”

  “I’m sure. You need it more.”

  I glance down at myself. “Good point.”

  I head into the bathroom and shut the door, then lean forward on the sink and stare in the mirror. I barely recognize myself. Blood has dried in my tangled hair, dust has caked onto my skin, and my eyes are dark and haunted. Somehow my clothes are even worse. I strip them off and toss them in the trash. Those bloodstains will never come out. I know that from experience.

  The hot water washes off all the grime, blood, and physical traces of that terrible future, but it will never erase my memories of it. My mind replays flashes on a loop I can’t seem to shake away from. Walking through ruined, abandoned Los Angeles. Driving away from Wombat, knowing we were leaving him to die. Watching the Infected surround Paige and Zahra, while Adam and I got away.

  Every memory reminds me of how important our task is now that we’re back in the present. Our friends sacrificed everything to make sure we made it back here safely. Even though we don’t have the photo, we’ll have to find a way to stop that future from ever happening—no matter what it takes.

  But the worst memories are the ones that remind me of what I am. A killer.

  The sick squish when I bashed the Infected’s head in with a baseball bat. The warm spray of blood when I shot those guards. The cold feel of the knife slicing the other guard’s throat.

  Adam was right. Their deaths might never happen in the future. But they happened for me.

  I sink down to the floor of the shower and curl up into a ball, letting the water hit my back. The memories go back, back, back to six months ago, when I shot Jeremy in the chest in front of the accelerator. The look on his face before he fell haunts me, even now. He would have killed me and Adam, along with Vincent, but still. He was my age, and I ended his life without a second thought.

  Then back, back, back to one year ago, when I fought with Lynne on the beach for my life. I had to get the gun from her to stop her from killing me or Adam, to stop her from getting away with the murders of Trent and Zoe. But the gun went off. She fell into the pale sand. I can still feel the trigger sliding between my fingers. I like to think it was an accident, but it wasn’t. Not really.

  And back, back, back even further. To the moment that defined my life, that I try to never think about, that I keep locked away in the back of my mind in a thick safe. Somehow the memory still manages to get out anyway, now and then. Papá, drunk and angry, going for my poor mother with a baseball bat. Me, just seven years old, darting in front of him. Not thinking about anything but protecting the person I loved most. The look on his face of pure rage before the bat came down on me instead. And then Mamá, pulling me away, tucking me behind her, taking the rest of the blows. Protecting me until her very last breath.

  Papá is in prison for being a killer. And me? I’m not any better than him. Maybe I should be locked up too.

  “Elena?” Adam’s voice breaks through the darkness of my mind. “Are you okay?”

  The water is cold, and my limbs are stiff. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here. Adam reaches inside and shuts off the shower, then wraps a towel around me and carefully helps me to my feet. I stumble out and he pulls me against his chest, wrapping me in his warm strength.

  While he rubs circles along my back, I bury my face in his shoulder. All I can do is hold on to him as he slowly restores life to me. “I know,” he says. “I know. And I’m so sorry.”

  It’s true. He’s the only one who will ever understand what I’ve been through or what we’re up against. I don’t know what will happen between us, or if I’ll ever trust him again, but right now we need each other. It’s his fault we’re in this mess, but if he hadn’t gone to the future, we’d never have known what horrible fate awaited us, and we’d never have had the chance to change it.

  I draw in a deep breath. The past is in the past, and the future isn’t written yet. There’s still time for us to make things right, but we have to work together to do that.

  I pull back. “Your turn for a shower.”

  “It can wait,” he says with concern in his eyes as he looks me over.

  “I’m fine. And you definitely need one.” I retreat to the doorway, but then turn around. “I’ll order us some food while you’re in there. Your choice. Anything you want.”

  “Pizza.” His answer is immediate. “Really hot, greasy pizza.”

  That gets a small smile out of me. “Done.”

  Once the shower is running, I order Adam’s favorite pizza and sit down with my laptop. Max curls up at my side while I begin searching the Internet. I’m not sure how much I’ll find, but it seems the obvious place to start.

  After a few minutes, I want to throw my laptop against the wall. There’s no record of any neo-Nazi group called the White Outs, and everything else I searched for came up blank or led me to a dead end. I should have gone back for that photo. I’m almost tempted to go back to the future to try to get it somehow. Almost.

  “Find anything?” Adam asks. He’s thrown on some jeans and a thin black T-shirt, but his dark hair is still wet and messy, hanging over his eyes. With him in those clothes, I can tell how thin he’s gotten, and my heart aches for him all over again.

  I force my eyes back to my laptop before I say or do something I shouldn’t. “No. I don’t think the White Outs exist yet. Or at least there’s no record of them online.”

  “Hmm.” He slides on his glasses and curls up beside me on the couch, rubbing Max’s head. “Maybe we should ask Zahra if she can dig up anything.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to involve her or anyone else. Not yet at least.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’ve been through so much over the last couple months, and their lives are finally getting back to normal after Jeremy’s death. I don’t want to ruin it all by telling them what the future has in store for them. Not yet anyway.”

  He slowly nods. “Maybe it’s better to keep it between the two of us for now. Especially since we don’t know who came back from the future with us or why. Getting them involved might put them in danger.”

  “Exactly. Once we know more, we’ll tell them everything.”

  Our dinner arrives, and for a few minutes, we do nothing but eat. Adam tears through the BBQ chicken pizza like he hasn’t eaten in days. For all I know, he hasn’t.

  When he catches me watching him, he gives me a sheepish grin. “Sorry. We couldn’t exactly order delivery over there.”

  “No kidding. Eat as much as you want.”

  He finishes his slice and wipes his hands on a napkin. “Every night in the future I’d lie in bed, unable to sleep, wondering if I’d ever make it home. Thinking about all the things I missed. You. Max. Family and friends. And yes, pizza.”

  I hand him another slice. “You had to know I would come for you.”

  That haunted look is back in his eyes. “Some days I hoped you would. Other days I prayed you’d stay far away from that nightmare.”

  I set my plate down, my appetite gone. “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know. But we have a few years to figure it out.”

  “We need to track down the man in that photo. My future self must have believed he was a part of this, otherwise why would she include it?”

  “Maybe we can trace him back to the White Outs. But how do we find him without the photo? It’d be a lot easier if we had a name.”

  I’m silent, staring at the empty pizza box, because the only thing I can think of is something I don’t want to consider. But Adam already knows. He can read it on my face.

  “You want to go to the future again,” he says quietly.

  “I don’t want to go, but it’s
the only way.”

  “No. After last time, I swore I’d never mess with time travel again.”

  “It’s the only way. We go ten years into the future, to the Beverly Center on that Black Friday. We track this guy down and find out who he is. Then we come back and stop the White Outs now, before they have a chance to get the virus in the first place.”

  Adam’s mouth hangs open. “You can’t be serious. Even if we could convince Vincent to let us go to the future again, and even if Dr. Walters could fix the accelerator so we arrive at the correct time, going to that mall on that exact day might be a death sentence for us. What if we contract the virus ourselves and bring it back to the present?”

  “It’s the only way,” I say. When Adam doesn’t look convinced, I go on. “We’ll be careful. We won’t confront the guy or anything. Even if we could stop him, the virus will be released all over the country, so there’s no point. We’ll just watch from afar and get the information we need, then come back right away.”

  He tears his hand through his damp hair, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. He must come to the same conclusion I did because his shoulders slump and he sucks in a long breath. “God, Elena. Are we really doing this? Again?”

  He’s been through so much, I can understand why he doesn’t want to get back in that accelerator ever again. I rest my hand on his knee. “You don’t have to go.”

  His glance is sharp. “And let you go alone? No way.” His hand finds mine, and he threads our fingers together. “We’re in this together.”

  “Together,” I repeat. “Until the very end.”

  FRIDAY

  I barely sleep that night. Adam, on the other hand, sleeps like the dead. I suspect he didn’t get much rest while he was stuck in the future.

  Once the sun wakes us up, I get sick of tossing and turning and head to the kitchen to grab some coffee. Adam walks out of the bedroom an hour later wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, and my eyes travel over his bare chest and broad shoulders. Even though he’s lost some weight, he still makes my pulse race. Heat rushes through me, and I force myself to look away. My heart is bruised and my brain knows better, but my body doesn’t seem to get the message.

 

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