by Bryan Davis
Kelly extended the saddle pack to me. “I’ll trade you. I know how to shoot, and you know how to fight.”
“Fair enough.” I gave her the gun and the shells. “You’d better load it.”
She slid the shells into the ammunition chamber with practiced hands. “Ready.”
“I hear voices.” Daryl nodded at the tour entry door. “Over there.”
“Clara and Daryl first,” I said as I pushed the elevator call button. “Kelly and I will follow.”
Daryl pulled the camera strap over Kelly’s head. “Let me lighten your load.”
As soon as the door opened, Clara and Daryl squeezed in. The moment it closed and the elevator began its descent, I pushed the call button again.
When the car returned, Kelly and I stepped in. I held the saddle pack against my chest, while she hugged the shotgun close, the barrel aiming straight up.
I pressed the button for the bottom level. Across the way, the tour door opened. A tall man wearing a black business suit entered the telescope room. He stared at us, then the closing doors hid him from view.
“That was Dr. Gordon,” I said. “He saw us.”
She nodded. “That could mean trouble at the bottom floor.”
“Could you tell if he had a wound on his cheek?”
“I don’t think he did, but it’s probably safer to assume he’s not on our side.”
When we joined Clara and Daryl, I led the way to the secured door and peeked through its window to the hallway. A heavyset woman stood with her back to us, vacuuming the carpet at the intersection to the exit corridor.
I stepped away from the door. “Clara, where’s your car?”
“In the main parking lot out front. At least I hope it’s still there.”
“Kelly’s Toyota is out in the woods, so we’ll have to split up. They’ll be looking for me, so while Kelly and I sneak out the back to her car, you and Daryl go out the front. Let’s meet at the first gas station at the main highway, but if something happens, we’ll be in touch by phone.”
Clara nodded. “That sounds good.”
I curled an arm around the saddlebag and pushed the door open. “Let’s go.”
Kelly and I jogged to the maid, cut around her to the right, and dashed for the exit. A shriek erupted behind us. We burst out the backdoor, still unbroken on Earth Red, and sprinted down the path that led into the woods. As soon as Kelly’s car came into sight, she unlocked it with her key fob and tossed it to me. “You drive.”
I caught the fob and flung open the driver’s door while Kelly hopped into the passenger’s side. I set the saddlebag on the rear seat and slid behind the steering wheel, inserting the key and cranking the engine in one motion.
Kelly pointed toward the back. “We’ve got company.”
I looked in the rearview mirror. A handgun-wielding guard jogged toward us, heavy and slow. He stopped about fifty feet to the rear and pointed the gun. “Driver! Show me your hands!”
I whispered to Kelly, “I’ll stall until you tell me he’s in range, but don’t shoot unless he shoots first.”
I lowered the windows on both sides and raised my hands.
The guard made a wide circle toward Kelly’s side of the car. “You in the passenger’s seat,” he yelled, “show me your hands! Now!”
She gave me a nod. “He’s in range.”
I grabbed the wheel and slammed the gas pedal down. The tires skidded in the wet grass. The guard fired. A bullet zipped through Kelly’s window and whizzed past my nose.
Kelly pointed the gun out her window and fired back. In the wake of a deafening boom, she fell into my lap just as the tires finally caught hold. The car shot forward. I jerked the wheel to the right, narrowly avoiding a massive oak, then slid into a sharp turn to the left as I aimed toward the building’s rear parking lot.
When the car straightened, Kelly pushed against the center console and slid back to her seat. She pumped the gun, racking the next shell.
I tried to look back at the guard. “Did you hit him?”
“Winged him. He won’t follow us.” She grabbed my arm. “Look out!”
Three guards stood at the edge of the parking lot about fifty yards away, aiming rifles with scopes. Kelly propped the shotgun on her window frame and fired again. The guards dove to the ground.
I swerved the car to the right. “We’ll have to take a shortcut to the front of the building.”
She pointed straight ahead. “You’re heading for a creek!”
“I see a bridge.”
“It’s just a footbridge!”
“Not anymore.” Loud gunfire erupted. Two bullets clanked against the car’s frame. The steep-banked creek dug into the landscape a mere thirty yards away. The closer we got, the narrower the footbridge seemed — just skinny slats nailed over thin plywood.
Another bullet ripped into the trunk. I pressed the gas pedal to the floor, making the Camry roar ahead.
“We’re too big!” Kelly shouted.
“Think thin!” After hitting a small incline just before the bridge, the tires leaped onto the slats and clattered ahead. The side mirrors slammed into the guardrails, folding them against the car. As wood splinters flew, the bridge sagged precariously. Seconds later, we flew off the end and surfed down an embankment that led to a covered walkway in front of the main entrance.
Kelly pointed. “More people!”
“Including Clara and Daryl.” I pressed on the horn and pumped the brakes, trying to slow down without going into a full slide, but the wet, grassy slope provided barely any traction.
The crowd scattered. I jerked the wheel back and forth, avoiding a dog and a petrified old lady, until I finally spun the car and stopped on the concrete walk, leaving the rear door no more than three feet from Clara and Daryl.
“Get in!” I ordered as I straightened the side mirror. “No use taking two cars.”
Clara threw open the door, and she and Daryl piled in, Daryl still clutching the camera. I slammed down the gas again, and, with at least a dozen people looking on, I jumped the curb, bounced into the parking lot, and zoomed away.
More rifle shots echoed behind us, but no bullets hit the car. With the shotgun barrel pointing at the floorboard, Kelly laid her head back. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
I let out a long breath and relaxed my grip on the wheel. “When my stomach catches up with me, I’ll pass around the barf bags.”
Kelly gave my arm a light punch. “Where’d you learn to drive like that?”
“Boston. It’s a nightmare place to drive.”
Daryl leaned forward from the backseat. “Think they’ll chase us?”
I glanced at the rearview mirror. “A Lincoln’s following us. Gordon Red has one like it, but I don’t know if Gordon Blue does.”
“I don’t trust either one,” Kelly said. “We’ll have to outrun him.”
I pushed the gas again, but the engine responded with a clatter. “Uh-oh.” As the Camry tried to climb a hill, it slowed and sputtered. “Better get the shotgun ready, Kelly. You might have to discourage another pursuer.”
With the gun in hand, she leaned out the window and sat on the frame, her sneakers barely touching her seat. “I got him in my sights,” she yelled.
“Is it Gordon?”
“Can’t tell yet. He’s staying pretty far back.”
“To keep from getting shot.” As the car’s engine rattled louder, I tugged on Kelly’s ankle. “I’m pulling over. I can’t outrun him.” I guided the chugging car to the side, stopped, and set the emergency brake. “Everyone stay here.”
While Clara and Daryl stayed in the car, I stepped out onto the road. Kelly balanced on the window frame, her shotgun lying on the roof, though her finger stayed poised at the trigger.
As a warm breeze whipped our clothes, the Lincoln stopped about a hundred feet behind us. Dr. Gordon emerged and lifted his empty hands. “I surrender. I just ask that you listen to me. I have information that might change everything you th
ink you know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I walked to the rear of Kelly’s car and leaned back against the trunk, trying not to show my nervousness. “Let me see the left side of your face.”
“My face?” Dr. Gordon stopped and turned his cheek toward me. His skin was smooth. “I take it that my Earth Blue counterpart has some kind of mark there.”
“He does.” I nodded toward Kelly. “Come on over, but stay ready.”
While Kelly climbed down from the car, Gordon walked the rest of the way and stopped in front of me, a scolding expression on his face. “I don’t blame you for being cautious about my identity, but you have also thrown caution to the wind on more than one occasion.”
“If you mean the highway chase, that was before I knew there were two of you.”
“You were afraid,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “I’ve been hearing reports about you. You’ve shown a lot of courage at times, but courage isn’t something you can afford to switch on and off. Shooting at guards, racing down the highway like a madman, and refusing to hear me out at the school isn’t going to cut it. If you want to rescue your parents, you’d better shake that yellow stripe off your back.”
I scowled. “Wait a minute! I was — ”
“A yellow stripe?” Kelly shouted as she stalked toward us, the shotgun still in hand. “Listen, jerk. Nathan dodged a murderer by diving into a river, searched for his parents through a bizarre maze in three worlds, rescued his Earth Yellow mom from a crazy shooter, stood up like a boss to a raging tornado, and boarded a doomed plane to try to rescue the passengers. Where do you get off questioning his courage?”
Gordon backed away a step and cleared his throat. “I see your point.”
“And those guards shot at us first,” Kelly yelled, her anger unabated.
“I understand your anger, and I hope you will accept my apology for my rash accusations.” Dr. Gordon waved toward his Lincoln. “If you wish, I will drive you to the funeral site and explain what I can along the way.” He popped the trunk with his key fob. “But I must ask you to deposit the shotgun in the back.”
I looked at Kelly. “Should we trust him?”
“Either trust him or get to the funeral late.” She shrugged. “I suppose so.”
I gave Dr. Gordon a nod. “We’ll come with you.”
While I retrieved the violin and mirror from the Camry, Kelly snatched her sweatshirt from the backseat and lugged the shotgun toward the rear of the Lincoln, glaring at Dr. Gordon as she passed by.
Clara and Daryl got out of the Camry and slid into the Lincoln’s spacious backseat along with Kelly. After depositing the violin in the trunk, I kept the mirror tucked at my side, seated myself up front, and introduced Dr. Gordon and Clara. After a terse and awkward exchange between them, Clara folded her hands in her lap and said nothing more.
Gordon started the engine and looked at me. “You still don’t trust me, do you?”
I spiced my reply with a growl. “My Earth Blue father said I should, but I’m not so sure. My real father got killed because of trusting people like you, so I’m taking a big risk.”
As Gordon drove, his tone stayed calm, mechanical. “When weighed against the alternatives, it is not such a big risk. Going with me gets you to the funeral on time as well as the vital information you’ve been seeking.”
I pointed at the triple-infinity emblem on his jacket. “Let’s start with your company, Interfinity. Tell me what you learned about the three worlds.”
Daryl pulled forward on Gordon’s headrest. “I already told them about how you heard the music from the other world before you played it in ours, so you can start from there.”
“Very well.” Dr. Gordon settled back in his seat. “When I discovered the existence of a world that parallels ours, I hoped to avert disasters and prevent loss of life. I wouldn’t be able to prevent an earthquake, of course, but I could warn people and assist them in getting out of harm’s way. Strangely, however, my Earth Blue counterpart had a profiteering mindset. This troubled me, because I had theorized that genetic duplicates would make identical decisions when presented with identical information.
“Bigger problems began when Mictar appeared. Long after the other Gordon and I created the twin observatories, we experimented with various cross-world transport scenarios. In one trial, after syncing with each other, we aimed our activation lights directly at the ceiling mirror to see what would happen if we hit the mirrors simultaneously. The beams made an intense splash of indescribable light. When it dispersed, a gaunt, white-haired man stood at the center of my observatory floor.”
“Mictar, I assume,” Daryl said.
“No. He called himself Patar, and he warned me that his brother, Mictar, had likely appeared at the same place in the other world.” Gordon altered his voice to a snaky whisper. “Beware of my brother’s schemes. He does not seek gold or silver, but discord and fear.” Gordon shrugged. “Then he disappeared.”
“And Mictar teamed up with Dr. Gordon Blue,” I said.
“Correct. Mictar’s powers made it impossible for me to fight him in the open, so I decided the only way to stop his plans was to play along. Mictar gave my Earth Blue counterpart and me the assignment of finding and killing you. That Gordon succeeded on Earth Blue, while I hoped to find you in order to protect you.”
“What’s so important about me?”
“This is where the matter becomes quite complex. Your father theorized that when we reached the point of moving from one world to the other, we began to create fractures. You might call them cosmic holes that alter the balance among the worlds. In other words, the three streams of parallel events began to run askew of one another, because interference from one world to the other could not be exactly duplicated due to the misalignment of time.”
“You mean when someone travels to another world, his counterpart isn’t doing the same thing anymore. Both worlds get thrown off. They can’t possibly stay in balance.”
Gordon nodded. “Solomon and I learned that since the worlds no longer run in perfect parallel, the forces that separate them have weakened. When we began the project, we had three infinities that would never intersect, much like parallel lines that can never meet. Now, as they deviate from their linear path with relation to one another, they will likely experience random intersections that cause havoc.”
“What would those intersections look like? I mean, if it happens, what would people notice?”
“On Earth Yellow, since it is behind us in time, I expect people would receive some kind of signal of future events, perhaps more soothsayers and other self-proclaimed prophets providing hints of things to come, but their fortune telling would actually come true, at least for a season. Eventually, the lines would shift so far away, future events would become unpredictable.”
The Earth Yellow nightmare epidemic came to mind, as well as the crash survivors who had dreamed of the disaster before it happened. “What would happen here or on Earth Blue?”
“A bleeding over of physical events that is already happening. I believe we are experiencing weather conditions based on Earth Yellow’s climate. Since Yellow is moving on the time stream far more quickly, our weather has wild swings. Only hours ago, it was probably early spring there, and we participated in their snowfall. Now it’s approaching summer, and we are enjoying a much warmer afternoon, though that might not last long.
“This phenomenon prompted me to find out what you’ve been up to on Earth Yellow. I knew Simons Blue and Yellow had a longing to prevent some kind of disaster. It seems that the timing worked out perfectly for you to rescue the American Airlines flight.”
“Not exactly. Besides Kelly and me, only six others survived.”
“That’s a significant number. Six new puncture wounds in the infrastructure. The resulting ripples could be enormous.”
“But they stayed in their world. Why would there be wounds?”
“As I mentioned, a ripple effect. From now on, each survivor ha
s no parallel activity in the other worlds, which will cause an increased deviation of Earth Yellow’s timeline from parallel, and that will move us all closer to Interfinity, the final convergence of the lines.”
“So, what can we do to fix the problem?”
“Repair the damage. You see, cosmic holes are like wounds. They might heal over time, but, since we’re not sure, it would be better if we tried to repair them. Solomon studied the theories regarding dark matter, and he believed that your mother had a gift, a way to seal the holes if she could only get the opportunity to use it. But one of the Solomons and one of the Francescas were captured and another pair killed, so we must find a way to help the surviving ones escape.”
“Do you know which Solomon and Francesca are alive, the Blue versions or the Red ones?”
“I suspect that the survivors are your Earth Blue parents, but I can’t be sure.”
I lowered my head. “That’s my guess, too.”
“In any case, that brings me back to your earlier question about your importance. Mictar desires to kill you, because he believes that you possess the same abilities that your mother has. He wants Interfinity to occur, and he wants to make sure you aren’t around to stop it.”
“So what is Mictar’s motivation? What does he have to gain by bringing about Interfinity?”
“I have pondered that for some time. How could someone benefit from collapsing the cosmos?” Gordon shook his head. “No answer makes sense. Maybe the reason will come to light soon, but I think it will be a frightening one.” He steered the car onto a cemetery entry road. “We will have to continue this conversation after the funeral, including more about the Quattro mirror. After that discussion, we will embark on our mission to rescue your parents.”
I tucked the mirror under my arm. “The other Dr. Gordon might be here, so I’m keeping the mirror with me.”
“As you should. I have people watching for him. I will tell them that he has a mark on his cheek.” Dr. Gordon stopped the car behind a long line of others. About sixty yards ahead, a yellow tent canopy rippled in the breeze, sheltering the gravesites. Dozens of rows of tombstones lined the gently sloping grass between our stopping point and the tent, looking like morbid sentinels of stone in horizontal battle lines, each one reciting its occupant’s name and age in etched letters.