He gives me a sharp nod. “I won’t be here when you get back, but there’s a security badge inside the car that will get you in and out of the building.”
“Where are you going?” Ken asks.
“To my vineyard in Napa. Thanks to your warning, I’ve spent the last ten years preparing for what’s to come. Just in case you’re unsuccessful in stopping it.” His gaze shifts to a large pickup truck across the parking lot. “I’m heading up there as soon as you’re on your way.”
Napa. Where, twenty years from now, he rules as President of West America. A horrible sinking feeling drags my stomach down. He only did this because of us, because we told him about the future. A self-fulfilling prophecy we created. We’re responsible for it all. Not just the virus and the end of the world, but the Militia too.
And if this future is any indication so far, we’re not any closer to stopping it. This timeline is on the same track as the last one we visited. Nothing has changed yet, although maybe that’s not a bad thing. The whole point of us coming here is to observe. If something changed, like maybe the date or time they release the virus, our entire trip might have been pointless.
We just need to make sure this trip is successful.
00:20
While I drive, Ken studies the map Vincent gave us. I traveled this same path with Future-Paige on our way to the Miracle Mile refuge, except now the streets are packed with cars. A stark reminder of how important our mission is and what will happen if we screw it up.
Ken looks up from the map and glances out the window. “Ten years doesn’t look any different from the present. I thought it’d be more futuristic or something.”
I shrug. “Not that much has changed since we were kids either. And in this timeline, Pharmateka was never created because Jeremy is dead, and Vincent seems to have switched his focus to surviving instead of making Aether some big tech giant.”
“I suppose,” Ken says. “I wish we had more time to look around. Probably sounds crazy, but I actually enjoyed my trips to the future. When they didn’t end in death, anyway.”
“Let’s hope this one doesn’t either,” I mutter.
My fingers drum on the steering wheel while we stop at a red light. We have almost two hours before the time stamp on the security footage, which should give us plenty of time to scope out the mall and get in position, but there are still so many things that could go wrong. What if we can’t get any information about the guy in the hat? What if he’s already released the virus by the time we find him? What if one of us gets sick?
Ken glances at my impatient fingers. “Are you worried about Adam?”
“Of course.” Although my concern for Adam is the least of my problems at the moment. He’s relatively safe back in the present, while the two of us are here, mere minutes away from the beginning of the end. It’s strange being in the future without him, but it’s a relief too. If we fail, Adam will still have a chance.
“He’ll be fine,” Ken says.
“I’m more worried about making sure we find this guy and don’t get infected at the same time.”
Ken shoves the map back in the bag. “Me too. But I talked to Adam about the research he did on the mutated virus while he was in the future, and it seems to spread from direct contact with bodily fluids. Be careful what you touch, and you’ll be okay.”
“What if someone sneezes on me?”
“Then you’re probably screwed.” He gives me a weak smile that he probably thinks is reassuring. “We’re both going to be fine. Really.”
As I drive, I keep talking to distract myself from the anxiety threatening to take control of me. “Did you tell Paige about any of this?”
“What? No. Of course not. Why would you even ask that?”
“I thought the two of you…” I look over at him and shrug.
His shoulders slump. “Unfortunately not. Even if we were, I wouldn’t tell her. Not yet.”
“What happened? I thought you were going to ask her out.”
“Yeah, but my mom’s been sick and Paige just broke up with her boyfriend and we’ve both been really busy and…” He trails off, staring out the window at the buildings we pass by.
“Sounds like a lot of excuses to me.”
“Easy for you to say.” He glances back at me. “What about you and Adam? You still mad at him?”
“I don’t know.”
He gives me a pointed look, but I ignore him as I pull into the mall’s parking structure. All of LA seems to be inside it already, creating a massive traffic jam full of honking, impatient people. We creep along behind the other cars, and just when I begin to worry we’ll spend all our time in the future looking for a parking spot, someone backs out in front of us. I quickly squeeze our car in the spot before someone else can steal it.
We take a few minutes to go through the equipment Vincent provided. The smartphones he’s given us are paper-thin, transparent, and flexible—likely a precursor to the flexis we saw in another timeline. We also find two tiny wireless earpieces with built-in microphones that look like something out of a spy movie. They fit into our ears discreetly and sync with the phones, allowing us to talk to each other. And at the bottom of the bag, he’s left us some antibacterial hand gel. I can’t imagine it will do much against a bioengineered super virus, but I guess it can’t hurt either.
I glance at the map Vincent provided, memorizing it instantly. From the photo, we know the exact time the guy with the hat will be in the mall, but not the exact place. There was a women’s clothing store behind him in the photo, but not the name of it. Vincent’s map shows all the current stores with the locations of the security cameras, and he’s marked two places he thinks are the most likely spots, which are on either side of the mall.
I point to the location on the left. “I’ll take this one. You grab the other.”
Ken fits his earpiece in and nods. “Got it.” He gets out of the car, but then hesitates. “If we find the virus, should we bring it back? If we can do it safely?”
I consider it for a moment, but then shake my head. “No, it’s too dangerous. We can’t risk infecting people back in the present.”
“But what if we could make a vaccine? Or find a way to stop it?”
“What if we can’t?”
He sighs. “I guess you’re right. I just wish there was something more we could do.”
We divide the money and then split up, heading in opposite directions through the mall and trying to blend into the crowd. The Beverly Center has multiple levels of shops and restaurants and is completely enclosed, although the skylight roof lets in plenty of light. It’s already been decorated for the upcoming holidays, with fake snow and mini Christmas trees covered in gold tinsel and twinkling lights. A huge ice palace sits in the middle of the first floor, with a long line of families waiting to visit Santa. And to top it off, they’re blasting Christmas music.
It’s only March back in the present. I am so not ready for all this holiday spirit.
Stores line either side of the bright, white walkway, with advertising for Black Friday sales all over their windows. People swarm the place, most of them holding shopping bags, and many of them dragging kids along with them. Everyone’s wearing bell bottoms, so I guess that trend is back in a big way. I try to keep my distance as much as I can, but it’s so crowded I end up brushing past people more often than I’d like. Once the virus gets out—assuming it hasn’t already—this place is going to be in big trouble.
I find the security camera pointed toward an H&M and scope out the area. “I’m in position,” I say, hoping the earpiece picks it up.
“Me too,” Ken says. “Now what?”
I check my watch. We still have an hour. “Now we keep our eyes peeled for the guy.”
I walk over to the railing and glance down at the levels below me, then turn around and check out the walkway on either side. No way to know if the guy is already here, wandering around, releasing the virus. All we can do is wait.
I st
roll into one of the nearby stores and buy a black cardigan so I have a shopping bag, allowing me to blend in better. Plus it’s Vincent’s money, so why not? Afterward, I grab a pretzel from one of the vendors and then find a bench where I can survey the area while pretending to play on my phone.
With every minute that passes, I become more and more convinced this was a terrible plan. There are so many people here that it’s going to be nearly impossible to find the right guy. And I haven’t even considered how we’ll get out of here safely.
A pregnant woman sits beside me on the bench while I finish my pretzel. She gives me a tired smile and rubs her large stomach. Emotion clogs my throat, and I look away. She’s already dead, along with her unborn child, and she doesn’t even know it yet. Everyone here is, and there’s nothing I can do to help them. Not in this time period, anyway.
“I think I see him,” Ken says through my earpiece. “Dodgers hat, windbreaker, backpack, right?”
I jump to my feet. “Yeah. What’s he doing?”
“Heading into Victoria’s Secret.” Ken snorts. “Definitely a terrorist. Or at least a creep. No normal guy would ever go in there alone.”
“He could be buying something for his wife or girlfriend.” I head for the escalator. “I’m on my way. Don’t lose him.”
“I’ve followed him into the store,” Ken says. “Now I’m just as big of a creeper. A single douchebag looking at women’s lacy underwear. Hey, I bet Paige would look good in this.”
I roll my eyes. “Stay focused, please.”
“Sorry.”
I walk through the mall as fast as I can without drawing attention to myself. My shopping bag bangs against my thigh. The crowd surges around me. Are any of them already infected? I hold my breath, keeping my hands tucked away, dodging around anyone that gets close.
“The guy’s in the corner of the store,” Ken says. “Wait. He’s pulling something out of his bag. I’m going in.”
“No! That’s not part of the plan.” My voice comes out too loud, and the person in front of me on the escalator gives me an odd look.
“I can stop him right now!”
“That will only alert them that we’re on to them.”
It’s too late. Ken’s already gone in. “Stop what you’re doing right now!” he says.
“Excuse me?” a man’s voice asks.
“The virus! Leave it!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Just…give it to me!”
There’s a shuffle through our earpiece, and I pick up my pace, sprinting now. I reach the store in time to see the two men struggling over the backpack. The cashier woman shouts for security into a phone, while I rush inside. Ken pushes the guy with the Dodgers hat down, grabs the backpack, and dashes out of the store without even sparing me a glance.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask Ken through the earpiece, while keeping an eye on the guy with the hat. He stands up and looks around, his mouth hanging open.
“I’m checking what’s inside this bag,” Ken says, his voice breathless.
One of the salesladies asks the man if he’s okay, and he nods. A security guard walks into the store and starts asking the guy some questions. I pretend to check out a red lacy nightie, keeping my head down.
“Shit,” Ken says. “There’s nothing in here!”
“What do you mean, nothing?” I ask. “Has he already spread the virus?”
“No. I don’t think he’s the right guy. There’s nothing in his backpack except some Black Friday coupons and a shopping list.”
“Oh God.” My head spins. I have to grab the clothing rack for support as my knees try to give out. Future-Elena was wrong. That picture she found wasn’t a clue at all. “If he’s not the right guy…then it could be anyone.”
2:08
Another security guard arrives as I try not to have a full-out meltdown while surrounded by bras and thongs. They talk to the Dodgers hat guy again and then leave the store, glancing around like they’re looking for something. Someone.
“Security is after you,” I tell Ken. “Better lie low.”
“Will do. But how are we going to find the right guy?”
“I don’t know.” I stare across the mall at all the people walking around, wondering which one of them might be a terrorist. “Just keep your eyes peeled for anything suspicious, and maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“Okay,” Ken says, but he sounds just as hopeless as I feel.
We can’t give up yet though. If we fail here, there’s nothing we can do in the present but wait for the White Outs to show up sometime in the next ten years. By then, it might be too late.
As I’m standing there, trying to figure out what the hell to do next, a white guy with a shaved head and a big, bushy beard walks past me. He bumps into the guy with the Dodgers hat and raises his hand in a brief apology. His sleeve slides back, and I catch a split-second glimpse of a swastika tattoo on his arm.
The shock of seeing a tattoo like that momentarily stuns me, but then I shake it off. This could be the guy we’re looking for. Maybe Future-Elena’s clue wasn’t as worthless as I thought.
He has a backpack, and he heads inside an electronics store I’ve never heard of called Charge Mart, which is packed with people. I trail after him at a safe distance, pretending to check the price of a camera, then picking up a cell phone case like a normal shopper might, although I keep my eye on him the entire time. But he doesn’t look at any of the things on sale…No, he watches the people around us with the slightest smirk on his face. It’s barely noticeable, almost like he’s quietly amused at something, but it creeps me out like nothing I’ve seen before.
This has to be our guy.
“I think I see our target,” I quietly tell Ken.
“Really?” he asks through my earpiece.
“Yep. Swastika tattoo, shaved head, and carrying a backpack. I’ve followed him into a store called Charge Mart.”
“Be careful. I’ll try to be there soon, but security is on my tail.”
The guy in question stops in front of a row of paper-thin big-screen TVs, next to a family with a mom, a dad, and two little girls. They’re black, and the girls can’t be older than seven at most. One of them holds a polar bear stuffed toy, and the other has a Pokémon backpack.
The man with the beard and the tattoo watches the family intently, while the parents debate between two of the TVs and the girls bounce around beside them. They look happy, the kind of loving family I always dreamed of having, and my heart squeezes painfully at the way he eyes them like they’re his next meal.
I can’t get involved. That’s not part of the plan, and besides, it’s way too risky. Getting too close to him could get me infected with the virus too, and I can’t bring it back to the present under any circumstances. Even if I stop him, dozens of other men just like him are releasing the virus at other shopping centers across the country at this very minute. If I interfere, they’ll know someone is on to them, which might make them change their tactics and make it harder for us to stop them. Anything I do now can change the future—and not necessarily in a good way.
But how am I supposed to get information on him without confronting him?
The younger girl with the bear drops it, and the older one picks it up and hands it back to her, then gives her a hug. The man with the beard and the tattoo watches it all.
I swallow hard. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this isn’t the guy. Maybe these little girls won’t be among the first ones to get sick. Maybe this perfect family won’t be dead within a week.
He opens his backpack and reaches inside. Panic shoots through me, and I’m in motion before I know what I’m doing. I have to stop him. I can’t just stand there and do nothing. That’s just not who I am. And maybe I can’t save everyone, but I can save this one family at least.
I spot something on the wall near the row of TVs and change course. A fire alarm. I shatter the glass with my elbow and pull the handle. Lights flash. A shockingly lou
d siren blares. With a sharp hiss, water sprays down on us from the ceiling.
People scream and begin running for the exit. The dad grabs one girl, the mom grabs the other, and they take off. Away from the guy with the shaved head and out the door. They might still get sick in the days to come, but maybe they’ll be among the lucky ones. For now, they’re safe.
The man begins walking toward the exit, his smirk now replaced by a slight frown. I stalk toward him, moving quickly, and when I’m close enough, I bump into him, hard. His backpack falls to the ground, and I grab it, then dash behind the nearest row of shelves, heading back into the store in the opposite direction from everyone else.
“What’s going on?” Ken asks.
I glance behind me. The guy is looking for me, and I duck down, dashing to the next aisle. “I pulled the fire alarm. I’ve got the guy’s backpack now.”
In the corner of the store, behind the video games, I open up the backpack and look inside. There are five white canisters that look like asthma inhalers, all of them unmarked. Is this the virus? I can’t tell, but I try not to touch any of them. I search around in the bag, but don’t find anything else of interest. No wallet. No phone. No information on who this guy is. Dammit!
The guy rounds the corner and fixes his steely eyes on me. He no longer looks amused. “What are you doing?”
“You can’t do this,” I say, holding up the backpack.
He takes a step toward me, his face darkening. “Give me that. Now.”
“It doesn’t work the way you think. The virus, it targets everyone, regardless of skin color.” The words slip out, and I can’t seem to stop them. Even though I know reasoning with him isn’t going to work.
He laughs, but it’s a dark, menacing sound. “You stupid girl. You have it all wrong.”
He lunges for me, and I try to jerk back, but his big, meaty hand wraps around my arm. I swing the backpack at him until he releases me with a grunt. In that split second, I have to decide: run or fight. The smart move is to run, but I still don’t know who he is.
Fight it is.
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