Future Lost

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Future Lost Page 10

by Briggs, Elizabeth;


  “Morning,” he says.

  I grumble something in response, but he’s used to that. I tend to be grumpy in the mornings. What can I say?

  “Have you thought of anything else we could do?” he asks while he pours some cereal for both of us.

  “No. Have you?”

  He sighs. “No. I guess we need to talk to Vincent.”

  “I have class today. And an English paper due tomorrow. But how am I supposed to focus on any of that?” I stare at my cereal. “How can I pretend everything is normal, knowing what’s going to happen? I want to spend every minute of the day trying to stop it.”

  “I know. I keep thinking we need to do something to warn people. Give them time to prepare. But who would believe us?”

  “No one. I barely believe it myself.”

  I take a bite of cereal, but it tastes like cardboard, and I end up swirling my spoon around while we sit in silence. Adam devours his breakfast, just like he did the pizza last night.

  “You should go to your class,” he says between bites.

  “And what will you do?”

  “Head to the lab, probably.”

  To work on genicote, no doubt. Even though it might one day become a virus that kills everyone. My fingers tighten around the spoon. “Ken told me you dropped out of school. Were you ever going to tell me that?”

  Adam rubs the back of his neck. “Of course I was going to tell you.”

  “Yeah? When?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think it was that big a deal. It’s not like I need those classes. I can make genicote without them now.” He lets out a sad laugh. “Not that I want to anymore. Now that I know what it becomes.”

  I shove my cereal away. “Genicote isn’t all you’re supposed to do with your life. Or have you forgotten? Developing a cure for Alzheimer’s. Helping Ken cure Huntington’s. Creating Future Visions with me.” All the original anger and frustration with Adam is boiling up in me again now that we’re safe. “We had a plan, and you threw it all away without even telling me.”

  He stares into his empty bowl. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake—one of many, it seems. I should have discussed it with you first.”

  “Yeah, you should have. I thought we were a team.”

  “We are a team.”

  I stab my finger at his chest. “If we were a team, you wouldn’t keep secrets from me.”

  He opens his mouth to answer, but I don’t want to hear it. He’ll say he’s sorry, that he made a mistake, but so what? That doesn’t change what he did. Or the fact that I can’t trust him now.

  I spin on my heel and head into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I throw on some clothes quickly and grab my bag, shoving my textbooks inside. Then I walk out of the apartment without another word, worried that if I even glance at Adam, I’ll start another fight.

  I don’t know how it’s possible to love someone so much you’d die for them, while at the same time to be so upset with them you can’t even look at their face. But it is.

  I make it through class somehow, although it’s tough to listen to anything the teacher is saying. Some crusty old book that a long-dead white guy wrote seems pretty inconsequential compared to the upcoming destruction of life as we know it.

  Afterward, I meet Adam at Aether’s office in downtown LA. He’s standing in the lobby, hands shoved in his pockets, staring out the window. I wonder if he’s picturing this building in the future, with all the broken windows and debris, or the Infected climbing through it to get to us.

  “How was class?” he asks.

  “Fine,” I mutter. “Did you go to the lab?”

  “Yeah, but it was a waste of time. I’m no closer to making genicote safe than I was before I went to the future. All I did was stare at my samples and think how they’re going to bring about the end of the world. I debated destroying them, but then I thought about all the lives they could potentially save if I find a way to fix this. Except I have no idea how.” He sighs. “And so the spiral continues.”

  “We’ll figure it out. But first we need to find the man in that photo.”

  Adam nods, and we head to the front desk. We’re given security badges and sent to Vincent’s floor. Once there, the receptionist waves us right in, even though we don’t have an appointment.

  “My two favorite time travelers,” Vincent says from behind his desk. He gestures for us to sit down in front of him. “Do you have information on who came back from the future with you?”

  “No, not yet,” Adam says.

  “That’s unfortunate. My security team hasn’t found anything else either, but I’m confident something will turn up soon.”

  Sure, unless the person who came back was working for him in the first place. But we have bigger things to worry about right now.

  “We’re here because we need your help,” I say, though it kills me to speak the words. I suppose his future self was right about us working together after all.

  Vincent’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so?”

  “We need to visit the future again,” Adam says.

  Vincent stares at us for a long moment, then lets out a short laugh. “Wow. You’re serious.”

  “Very,” I say. “And this time we want to go ten years into the future.”

  Vincent steeples his fingers on the table. “Forgive me, but I must be having a bit of déjà vu here. Except last time when you demanded I send you to the future a second time, it resulted in my only son’s death.” His eyes rest on me, and I feel a pinch of guilt. “Sorry, but the answer is no.”

  “We wouldn’t do this unless it was absolutely critical,” Adam says. “But we really need to use the accelerator again, this one last time.”

  “Each time you visit the future, something terrible happens to you or the people you’re with. Now someone’s come back from the future with you, and we have no idea who they are or why they’re here. Why in the world would I send you again?”

  I lean forward, palms flat on his desk. “You owe us. We’ve kept all your secrets. We rescued your other team from the future. We saved your life.”

  “And despite the fact that you killed my son and destroyed my other accelerator, I allowed you both to return to the future one more time. That makes us even. But now? We’re done.”

  “What if we tell you what we saw in the future?” Adam asks.

  “No—” I start, but Adam’s look silences me. This is all we have to bargain with, but knowledge of the future is a powerful gift and curse. Those of us who have time traveled have an unspoken promise to never tell anyone else what we’ve seen or what might come to pass. The one exception was when I told Dr. Campbell that her husband was going to be killed and how to stop it. But she risked everything to help us, now and in the future, and she deserved to know.

  Vincent leans back in his chair casually, but his eyes dance with interest. “I’m listening.”

  Adam glances at me again before speaking. “In ten years, a neo-Nazi terrorist group is going to release a virus that will wipe out the world. Billions will die. Civilization will crumble. And thirty years in the future, they’re still trying to rebuild and stop the virus.”

  “You saw all that?” Vincent asks. He’s wanted our knowledge of the future since the very first time he sent us there, and we’ve never given him anything. Until now.

  Adam nods. “We did. And we think we can stop it. But we need to go to the day the virus was released to find out who did it.”

  Vincent stands and moves to the window, looking out at the city. “And what happens to me? Do you know my fate?”

  Adam hesitates. “You’re still alive. You run a survivor’s colony out of Napa.”

  I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t go on. It’s way more than I’d like Vincent to know about his future as it is.

  Vincent seems to ponder this for a moment. “Did you see me while you were in the future?”

  “Yes,” Adam says.

  “And?”

  He looks at
me again, and I nod for him to continue. “You…you said you helped us try to stop the virus.”

  Vincent frowns. “And failed, it seems.”

  My hands clench into fists in my lap. “We won’t fail this time.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” He rubs his chin, considering. He doesn’t believe us. As Adam said, who would?

  “We can give you the exact date the virus will be released,” I blurt out. “Along with the locations. That way you’ll be able to prepare long in advance.”

  “Very well,” he says. “I’ll send you to the future one last time. But I want to be kept in the loop about all this from now on.”

  “You’ll help us?” Adam asks.

  “I will. Regardless of what you think of me, I don’t want the world to end any more than you do. After all, that would be bad for business.” He sits down at his desk. “Give me a few days while Dr. Walters works on the accelerator’s navigational computer. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

  I’m impatient to get going immediately, but even I can admit this delay is unavoidable. We need the accelerator to send us to the exact day the virus was released and no later. If it’s off by even a tiny bit, Adam and I could get the virus ourselves. If it’s too early, the trip will be for nothing.

  And we only have one shot at getting this right.

  When we get back to the apartment, Max does his little happy dance, not noticing the tension between me and Adam. This is the first time we’ve been alone together since the morning, and I’m not sure how to act around Adam. My anger has faded, but the underlying issues are still unresolved.

  Adam grabs Max’s leash to take him outside. After a second’s hesitation, I follow them out to the grass in front of our apartment.

  “After I went to the lab, I visited my mom,” Adam says while Max sniffs around. “She told me to say hi.”

  We had dinner with his mom a few days ago. At least, a few days ago for me. Not for Adam though. He’s always been close to his mom, maybe because his dad was never around, so I can understand why he’d visit her right away. He risked everything to save her life, after all.

  “How’s she doing?” I ask.

  “She’s good. Still no sign of the cancer returning.”

  We lapse into silence. I cross my arms and gaze down the street, hating this awkwardness between us. It’s never been like this before, even when we disagreed about things. I’m starting to worry we might never go back to the way we were before.

  Max leads us farther down the street, peeing on every bush or flower he sees, while I search around for another safe topic. “How much time do you think we need in the future?”

  Adam tilts his head to consider. “Maybe three or four hours? We know what time that guy will be there, but we need time to get in position and—”

  Something cold jolts down my spine, some primal instinct that yells, Danger! I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Someone in all black. A flash of metal.

  “Get down!” I shout, grabbing Adam’s arm at the same time the shot is fired.

  The bullet rips into him, knocking him back, his blood spraying against my cheek. We both drop to the grass while Max barks frantically around us. Adrenaline races through my blood as I yank Adam and Max behind a parked car, blocking us from the shooter’s line of sight.

  Adam’s face is twisted in pain while he tries to stop the blood rushing out of his side. But he’s alive. Thank God he’s alive.

  I peer over the hood of the car, but the shooter is gone. It’s not safe out in the middle of the street like this, so I slide my arm around Adam and help him to his feet. “C’mon,” I say. “We need to get inside, fast.”

  I drag him back into our apartment building, and Max rushes in after us. The door clicks locked, securing us in the lobby. I check the street again, then turn around. Adam slouches against the wall, holding his hand against his wound, his face growing paler every second. Blood drips down onto the carpeted floor. I rush toward him, although I’m not sure what I can do.

  “Oh God, you’ve been shot,” I say. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

  “No!” He hoists himself up with a groan. “It’s not that bad. Just help me get into the apartment.”

  “Are you crazy? We need to get you to a hospital!”

  “All gunshot wounds have to be reported to the police. What are we going to tell them? That someone from the future is trying to kill us?” He shakes his head. “Please, Elena. I can handle this. Trust me.”

  My phone is already out of my pocket, but I hesitate. “I can’t lose you, Adam.”

  “You won’t. The bullet only grazed me. I think.” He checks it again, but all I see is blood. Thick, red, and leaving him way too fast. “Call Ken. He was his team’s medic. He’ll know what to do.”

  I still think this is a terrible idea, but I dial Ken. Adam knows a lot more about this stuff than I do. He’s been trained in first aid and volunteered at a hospital for a long time. If he says it isn’t that bad, I’ll try to believe him.

  “Hey,” Ken says, as soon as he picks up. “Did you find Adam?”

  “Yes, but he’s been shot. Can you get to our apartment fast?”

  “He…what?”

  “Just hurry. Please. And be careful on your way in because the shooter might still be out there.”

  “I’ll be there in five.”

  I hang up. “He’s on his way.”

  Adam nods, and I lift his arm around my shoulders to help him up. He groans with every step, but we make it back to the apartment after a few minutes. Max hovers around our feet the entire time, obviously worried about his favorite human.

  Adam has me take him to the bathroom, where he sits on the closed toilet seat with a grimace. “Grab my first aid kit and some towels.”

  I fetch some of our old towels, the ones we use to wash Max, then get his kit out from under the sink. My hands are shaking, but I manage to use the scissors to carefully cut off Adam’s shirt. As it falls away, my panic increases. Adam was shot in the ribs. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

  The buzzer stops me from changing my mind and calling an ambulance. Ken’s outside, and I rush him in to see Adam.

  “Oh crap,” he says, as he enters the bathroom. “What happened?”

  “Long story,” Adam says, his voice weak. “Short version is: I got shot.”

  “Well, yeah, I can see that.” He wastes no time in opening the first aid kit. “You should really go to a hospital. And call the police.”

  “We can’t,” I say. “Can you help him or not?”

  He inspects Adam’s wound. “I think so. The bullet only grazed him. I just need a few minutes to stitch him up.”

  He starts cleaning the injury, and the sight of it makes my head dizzy. Considering how many people I’ve killed, you’d think a little blood wouldn’t faze me, but it’s different when it’s coming out of the person I love.

  “Go,” Adam says to me. “We’re okay in here. Make sure the apartment is secure.”

  I reluctantly nod. I don’t want to leave, but Adam must know that if I stand here and watch, I’m going to lose my mind worrying over him. There’s nothing I can do to help anyway. They’ve both been trained in saving people’s lives. I’m only good at ending them.

  I check the locks on the front door, then head to the windows and draw the curtains. There’s no sign of the shooter anywhere, but she could still be out there. Lying in wait. Maybe I need to increase our security. Or get a gun.

  The bathroom door’s been closed, but I hear Adam let out a soft, pained sound. Oh God, what are they doing in there? The two of them aren’t doctors. What if the bullet hit something bad and they don’t know it? What if the wound gets infected? What if Adam’s lost too much blood?

  I’m so worried I can barely stand still. I want to pace. To run. To punch something. Like the person who shot Adam. Or a wall. I’m not picky, really. All this nervous, anxious energy is swirling inside my stomach, and I need to let it out somehow. Otherwise I’ll have a
panic attack. I haven’t had one in six months, but I can feel one coming for me now. The tightness of breath. The rapid beating of my heart. The feeling that the world is spiraling out of control.

  Max whines from outside the bathroom door. I kneel down and bury my face in his fur. “It’s okay. Adam’s going to be fine,” I tell him, although I’m consoling myself as much as him. I take even breaths and hold on to the dog until the panic attack recedes into the background again.

  After the longest ten minutes of my life, Ken opens the door. “All done.”

  I release Max and straighten up. “Is he okay?”

  Adam has a large bandage over his ribs now, on the left side, but the bleeding seems to have stopped. “I’m fine, Elena. Or I will be. I promise.”

  Ken helps Adam to his feet. “You’re not fine. You’ve been shot. You should really go to a damn hospital.”

  “Not going to happen,” Adam says.

  “Fine, then I’m putting you in bed. You need to get some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

  Adam grunts as Ken half carries him into the bedroom. “You’re not a doctor.”

  “Hey, I’ll get my PhD before you at this rate.”

  Adam chuckles, then makes a face as he’s carefully lowered onto the bed. I hover on the side, ready to jump in and help if they need me. Max hops on the bed and curls up against Adam’s good side.

  Ken pulls something out of his own bag. A bottle of pills. “Take two of these. They’ll ease the pain and help you get some sleep.”

  Adam takes the bottle and frowns. “Do I want to know where you got these?”

  “Probably not.” Ken’s been arrested for this kind of thing before, though he claimed he got the illegal medication for his mom. At this point, I don’t care where he got the pills, as long as they’ll help Adam.

  Adam tries to shove the bottle back at Ken. “I can’t take these.”

  My hand rests firmly on his shoulder. “You’re going to take them and get some rest, or we’re going to the hospital. No arguments.”

  He sighs. “All right, all right.”

  Ken leaves the room to give us some privacy. As Adam takes the pills, I can’t stop staring at the bandage on his ribs. If the bullet had been slightly to the side, Adam would have been hit in the heart. I came so close to losing him today.

 

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