Zero Hour (Wealth of Time Series, Book 5)

by Andre Gonzalez

  “Yes, but not the productive ones—they’re the ones still after you. Need I remind you that the most powerful Road Runner right now is still very much infatuated with you?”

  “Martin doesn’t know what he wants. Our relationship has always been a delusion to him, and that still hasn’t changed. He’s a good guy, and that’s why I’m staying out of his way—for his own protection.”

  “How sweet of you, caring for people who would kill you in a heartbeat if they only had the chance. It just so happens, though, that Martin’s safety is not what I care about. I guess you could say I’m more interested in taking an up close look at his guts and arteries.”

  Chris grinned as he waited for a reaction from Sonya that never came. She was certainly no newcomer to his mind games, and a reaction was all he sought half the time. For Chris, a reaction revealed weakness in a person, an opening to attack whatever sensitivities might lie within. Once he discovered it, he became a shark unable to help himself as he pounced all over a single drop of blood in the water.

  Sonya was years beyond falling for his bullshit. “Where are we going?” she asked, ignoring his last statement about Martin’s guts.

  “Have you ever been to Idaho?”

  “Can’t say I have. Why not Alaska?”

  “My mansion is gone. You friend, Martin, bombed it to pieces.”

  Sonya shook her head. “So this is all about getting revenge. When will you stop?”

  “My home is gone, why wouldn’t I get revenge?”

  “Because it will never end. I’m sure you deserved this. You’ve done plenty in your past to warrant people wanting to drop bombs on your house. Let me guess, though, you’re innocent, right?”

  Chris smirked. “I ruffle some feathers, sure.”

  “And you’ve never bombed anyone, or wiped out a room full of Road Runners just because you were having a bad day? You seem to forget that I worked very high up with the Road Runners—I know all of the dirty shit you’ve done. You should be grateful it’s just your obscene mansion that was ruined.”

  “Well, everyone who lived with me died, too.”

  “Duane’s dead?!” Sonya gasped. He was the closest thing to family that Sonya had during her childhood and adolescent years. Duane was more of a father figure than Chris, in fact, always happy to listen to her concerns and ask how school was going—things Chris lacked the emotional intelligence to do.

  “Duane is fine. He was in Florida with his mother, but now Martin has him held hostage.”

  “What the hell has been going on since I left?!” Sonya asked, her face scrunched in confusion. “It’s only been a few days and everything has changed.”

  “It has, and that’s why it’s important you come with me. We need to be together for more than just keeping me alive. I need you to convince Martin to release Duane. I know the Road Runners want you dead, but Martin calls the shots. He won’t plan any more attacks on me if he sees even one glimpse of you by my side. He won’t risk it because of his delusion.”

  “You want me as bait,” Sonya said flatly. “You’re not afraid of attacks—they do nothing to you. You want to lure Martin.”

  “As much as I’d like to think that would work, I have no way of knowing how Martin will act aside from ceasing any fire in my direction. Sure, nothing he does will kill me, but I can’t keep moving from location to location. I’m already sick of the Idaho house and I was only there for five minutes. It’s a miserable shack.” He looked around the apartment once more. “But it is better than this place.”

  “You can stop—I know this place is awful. I was only here to be safe from you.”

  Chris grinned, revealing nearly all of his teeth. “Sonya, I will provide you with safety. I need you to work with me and play a little charades for Martin. We all know how phenomenal of an actress you are, and if you can do one last performance, I’ll refill your bottle of Juice.”

  This grabbed her attention as she locked her gaze onto Chris. “Show me the Juice and let me test it to make sure it works—you can come with me to be safe. And I’ll do it.”

  She had every intent on running as far from Chris once this was all over, but clearly a lack of Juice made hiding impossible. If she could jump to a different era each week—maybe even everyday—it made the task of hunting her down that much more difficult, although never impossible with the amount of manpower Chris had around the globe and all throughout time.

  “What exactly are you going to make me do?” she asked, still not breaking her death glare toward her estranged father.

  “I’m still trying to figure that out, but we’ll definitely hijack the Road Runners’ TV stream and make an appearance together. May just have you act like a damsel in distress for theatrics.”

  When have theatrics ever worked well for you? she thought.

  “If we can lure Martin away to meet us on his own—with Duane—then this will all have been worth it. I’ll let you go.”

  “So this is going to be the first time you lie, huh? Now that your back’s on the wall, you’re no longer a man of your word?”

  “On the contrary, dear, I’ll be keeping my word. I said you will be released in exchange for Duane. I never said anything about Martin’s fate in between that little transaction.”

  “You know he won’t be alone. And if you kill him, they’ll have no one to stop them from killing me.”

  “No one’s killing you as long as I’m around,” Chris said with a grin, not reassuring Sonya one bit.

  “No one will kill me as long as I have new Juice. Not you, not them. You’ll never find me again.”

  “Oh, Sonya, dear, don’t you know I’ll always find you? My blood flows in your veins. We’re connected forever, and I’ll chase you to the end of time.”

  She glared at him while she bit her bottom lip to keep from speaking. He was busting out all the guns to earn a reaction from her. I’ll chase you to the end of time, she repeated in her head. That was the same line Chris often told Sonya’s mother, back when he was capable of love like a normal human being. Back when Sonya believed her parents would be together forever, caring for each other into old age. Before time travel, Revolters, or Road Runners. A simple time when they were a happy family. They may have had their challenges, but they had each other. And that bond between a family could face any obstacles thrown their way.

  She reflected on this particular line, and wondered just how much it foreshadowed her father’s life. To the end of time. Was there a part of his subconscious that knew he would see the end of time? He had spoken this line as far back as Sonya could remember. Every time he said it, he planted a kiss on her mother’s forehead, making it such a distinct memory.

  She dismissed his words to not let him manipulate her mind by stirring up old memories. It’s my mind, and I control it, she assured herself.

  “Let’s just get this over with,” she said. “So I can get my Juice and be out of your life.”

  Chris smirked and waited for Sonya to join him at the door where they’d leave 2064 behind forever.

  27

  Chapter 27

  Over the next seven days, while Chris and Sonya settled into their new home in southern Idaho, Martin and Gerald spent most of their time waiting for the breaking news of an attack on one of their buildings.

  But none ever came, and with each passing day they grew a bit more concerned that the attack was surely right around the corner. Chris Speidel simply wouldn’t allow his mansion to be bombed without retaliation. He was incapable of turning the other cheek.

  A wave of confidence made its way through the entire organization, however. Gone were the calls for a recall vote, replaced by Road Runners crawling out of the shadows and attempting a return to normal life. They were still encouraged to remain vigilant and keep an eye out for those around them. Martin suggested any large gatherings of Road Runners occur only when the invitations were sent out within an hour of the event’s start time to prevent the information from slipping into the wrong hands
.

  With the resurgence of the membership and their activity, Martin was able to implement stronger security by adding more guards to each office around the continent. The Denver location, in particular, now had a rotation of sixty different guards, three groups of twenty covering various eight-hour shifts to protect the organization’s top leadership and Council.

  Duane remained heavily guarded within his holding cell, only permitted to roam outside of his room for one hour each day, which he typically spent pacing laps around the office with three guards behind him each step of the way. They had become so bustling with staff, much like Martin remembered upon his first visit, that no one paid any attention to Duane as he moseyed around the room like a depressed loner. He spoke few words and refused any conversations with Martin or Gerald.

  While the main population of Road Runners moved forward with hope, Martin and Gerald spent their days with a cloud of distress hanging above their heads. They still had no idea where Chris was located, where Sonya had gone, or what to expect in the coming days. They had sent out all agents to try and solve these matters, but no one returned any answers, or even so much as a potential lead to follow.

  Chris and Sonya were as good as erased from the planet. The uncertainty plagued Martin like an infectious disease. Sleep had become impossible, a growing belief that the moment he closed his eyes, the entire office would go up in flames. Eating became more of a chore than pleasure, Martin often poking at his food to make it appear like he had eaten more than just a couple bites.

  He and Gerald spent each day in his office, a map of the continent thrown up on the screen and a stack of files from all the research that had been conducted on Chris and his movements over the last twenty years. Surely there was a pattern they could track down, and turn that information into an educated guess as to where he might be. They sent agents to inspect areas with no luck. It had become a witch hunt with no witch. They even kept a close watch on likely places Chris would end up, mainly his Wealth of Time store in Nevada. All of the cars remained outside from the day they had wanted swipe Mario Webster, but there were still no signs of Chris. Just knowing the old bat’s location would help Martin sleep at night, but until then, it was a constant cycle of stress and paranoia.

  The screens hanging around the office walls were muted as they showed the now constant Road Runner news station. Reporters and anchors were back into the swing of their routines and eager to get back on the job during these trying and fascinating times for the organization. They were in the middle of a piece regarding life in isolation on one of their private islands, a hot topic since everyone had the chance to witness the trial and sentencing of Councilwoman Murray.

  The screens flickered, and Martin noticed out of the side of his vision, his stomach immediately hollowing out. He knew what the flicker meant and what came after it.

  “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, closing the laptop on his desk and not breaking his gaze from the screen directly across from him. Gerald sat back and followed his stare to the TV flickering out of control, like it had lost signal.

  “Chris?” Gerald muttered under his breath, prompting a nod in response from Martin.

  The stream of the virtual island completely gave way to a dark backdrop and Chris’s face and frosty hair, popping off the screen in bright, crystal-clear resolution.

  “Good afternoon, Road Runners,” Chris said, keeping a stern face. “I hope this message finds you doing well and hopeful. For years we have been fighting with each other, destined to do this until the end of time. For years it seemed that us here at the Revolution could have our way with the Road Runners. We land a punch, and you only return a slap on the wrist. I’ll admit, things looked over for you when that little Vegas hotel went ka-boom! But now you have the fearless Martin Briar as your leader.

  “I don’t suppose Martin ever mentioned how weak-minded he is during all of his campaign promises? Martin is a man who follows his heart and not his conscience. And while there’s no issue with that in particular, it should be alarming for the leader of a big organization like yours. Did you know Martin failed a mission to kill my daughter, Sonya, all because he couldn’t bring himself to kill the woman he loved? I’m still here, kicking and screaming, all thanks to Martin Briar.

  “And what did he do after I killed his mother? He went to hide in the Bahamas, getting drunk on the beach every night. What will he do now when times are tough? Go swim with the dolphins in the Maldives? I’ve enjoyed our years of battle, but it seems our war is coming to an end. You have the wrong leader at the exact wrong time. Yes, he destroyed my mansion, but can he handle what’s coming next?”

  Chris leaned back in his seat and turned his face away from the screen, mouthing to someone in the distance. He leaned forward and continued. “I have a surprise for you, Martin.”

  He waved his arm, and they watched as another body came into view and sat down, long blond hair swinging from side to side.

  “Holy shit!” Martin gasped.

  “Say hello to Sonya,” Chris cackled as his daughter came into clear focus on the screen. “I was able to find her and bring her back to safety, out of danger from the Road Runners who want to kill her for their own gain. I love my daughter, but—and she’ll admit this and understands—I love the Revolution more. Sonya and I had a falling out many years ago after my wife’s death, leaving me with nothing but the Revolution. The Revolution is my family, even more than my dearest Sonya. I have a proposal for you, Commander, so I hope you’re listening.

  “I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty to ensure the Revolution continues as strongly as ever. I’m prepared to kill Sonya and pass along my ‘gift’ to someone else to carry. I’ve had a lengthy discussion with Sonya regarding this decision, and while she doesn’t agree, she understands. You can go now, dear.” Chris turned his head to Sonya as she stood and walked out of the screen’s view.

  During this quick pause Martin turned to Gerald and said, “Get in touch with the Nevada team right now and see if they’ve had any sighting of Mario Webster coming out of that building.”

  Gerald nodded and stepped out of the office. Martin caught a quick glimpse of all the frozen faces and stares in the bullpen, watching the televisions mounted around the entire room. Chris took a swig of water and finished speaking.

  “Sonya’s life is now in your hands, Mr. Briar. Bring me Duane and I will release Sonya. I’m in a small town called Three Creek, Idaho, just along the southern border of the state. We’re the only house in town, so it shouldn’t be hard for you to find us. I don’t want any trouble. Bring Duane, and you can leave in peace. Sonya will be freed, but I can’t say for certain where she’ll go. You can save her life, Martin.”

  Chris leaned into the camera so that his face filled the entire screen. Wrinkles spread across his face as a grin revealed his yellow teeth. He started giggling, then opened his mouth to howling laughter, his uvula jiggling out of control before the screen cut black.

  “Goddammit!” Martin barked, banging a fist on top of his desk. Gerald returned, slamming the door behind him and shaking his head.

  “They haven’t seen anyone come in or out of that store in three days. You don’t suppose it’s all a decoy of some sort?”

  Martin shook his head ferociously. “Not the store. The store is everything. It’s where Chris makes his Juice and pills, and does all of his experiments in his back lab.”

  “It’s possible all of those Revolters went into the store and traveled to another time.”

  Martin scrubbed the top of his head with a balled fist, sending his hair into wild directions, as if he had been electrocuted. “That’s probably what’s happened. We can expand our search for that location throughout different years, but what are we really chasing? It’s not even Chris in there, just his friend.”

  “Well, we know Chris is back in 2020. Should we even bother meeting with him?”

  “I think we should,” Martin said. He leaned forward to plant his elbows on the desk, foldin
g his hands below his chin and gazing to Gerald with a look of madness and desperation in his eyes. “How would you feel about leading the mission to rescue Sonya?”

  28

  Chapter 28

  The next morning, while Sonya sat at the kitchen table poking at a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, Chris entered with a tall glass decanter of lime-green fluid. “Look what I got for you last night,” he said with a smirk, his eyes studying his daughter like a hawk.

  “Juice?!” she asked, stopping mid-chew on a piece of bacon.

  “Bingo! Your ticket out of here once everything is complete.”

  She fought the urge to lunge out of her chair, snatch the bottle, and bolt out the front door. She wouldn’t make it more than fifty feet before one of her father’s newly imported guards tackled her to the ground.

  “I’ve done my part. You showed me to Martin,” she said. “Why can’t I go now?”

  Chris shook his head. “I wish it were that simple, dear. Martin isn’t going to hand over Duane until he sees you’re safe. If you’re gone, then we just stand here at an impasse and we all die—except me, of course. I’m not willing to sacrifice Duane in order to kill Martin, although it is tempting. Killing Martin only does so much for our cause—he would just be replaced by someone else that same day, and back into the cycle we go. Round and round and round.” Chris twirled a finger in circles like a musical conductor.

  “And you really think this is going to work? That by some miracle, your goons will be able to capture Martin from whatever kind of crew he’s going to arrive with?”

  “More are coming,” Chris said, placing the Juice on the counter next to the stove. Sonya glared at it, positioned close enough to tempt her, but just far enough to know better. Grease splattered the wall behind the bottle, and Sonya dropped her gaze to the cast-iron skillet she had used to cook the bacon, idle on the stove.