25. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
T hree days into Emily and James’ spying on Ralkin, their victim was yet to leave the house. They’d split shifts, so Emily had the early morning and most of the day, and James had the evening and the night. Emily greeted the idea, not only because it gave them more control but also because it reduced her time with James and, therefore, the temptation.
Although she had to admit, snooping without company—especially James’ company—was extremely boring. If there were any grass on the street to watch, she’d probably have seen it grow by now. Instead, she had to do with trees. She’d been watching one of those, wondering why she’d never learned the species—a Linden, maybe?—when James arrived for his shift. He checked the street before he swung over the fence into the narrow basement area beside the entrance. The house, two doors down from Ralkin’s, had been empty for a few days, its occupants on vacation, and the lowered spot was perfect for snooping.
“Anything new?”
“Same old,” she said. “That woman went out again. ”
The only person that’s left Ralkin’s house so far was an older woman who James identified as a servant, based on her clothing and posture. She usually returned with groceries. At least it means someone’s inside there, eating.
“I’m gonna try it,” Emily said. “I’m gonna go inside.”
“Now?”
“I’m tired of waiting. What if he’s doing creepy stuff in there?”
James peeked through the fence. “Let’s wait until dark.”
But then I’ll have to wait with you. Just the two of us. And isolation led to conversation.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s dark. I’ll phase through. Hoist me up.”
James bent a knee and intertwined his hands to give her a lift over the fence. “What if he sees you inside? Emily, that’s not—at least wait until he goes to sleep—”
“It’ll be fine. As long as he’s not in the lab.” Once on the sidewalk, she straightened and fixed her almonite pants. They weren’t slipping, but she always had a feeling they would near James.
Maybe that was just James.
“Be back in a spell.” Before James could respond, she started her mantra, and he froze with one hand still clutching the fence.
She walked up to Ralkin’s door, closed her eyes, and clenched her fists. Freeze more. Better. Harder . She put her hand on the smooth surface of the wood. Harder. There was a light crackle in her fingers, like static electricity, and they slipped through.
Emily hesitated with her hand half-swallowed by the door. She’d never phased her entire body through an object.
No time like the present. Or … past .
She slipped through with one long, smooth step. A cold shower with a metallic-wooden taste ran through her body, and then she was inside, in an empty hallway. She shuddered as she remembered her last time here—squeezing past Ross, following him downstairs, the sickly hospital smell of the lab— No. Don’t think about it.
Normally, she’d release the freeze, but her little bubble of distorted time offered safety and privacy. He can’t get to me while I’m like this. So she continued downstairs, gathered her strength once more, and phased through the thick metal door of the lab. Only once she’d confirmed the lab was empty did she dare to release the time stop.
She stumbled toward the cabinet and used it as support while she waited for the wave of nausea to pass, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. As her stomach settled down, she examined the lab.
The horrific contraption Sylvia had been strapped to had been moved to a corner. A nearby table now displayed a metal frame about a foot high and wide. Two handles, attached to the sides, held a tube with three layers of liquid—a red-brick-colored one, a dark blue one, and a vomit-yellow, lightly gurgling at the top. Emily slowly approached and lowered herself to the eye level with the tube. The middle liquid looked a lot like the almonite extracted from Sylvia. She reached out a hand, only to retract it quickly from the scalding-hot tube.
I’ll figure that one out later. She moved to the shelves and started sifting through the books and folders quickly but methodically, ensuring she put everything back in the right place. The books were long dissertations on nineteenth-century science; the folders were filled with pages and pages of almost unintelligible writing and sketches of various instruments. Undoubtedly some, if not all, pertained to time travel, but Emily was too nervous to focus and skipped through until a twice-underlined title caught her attention.
Temporal Corporeal Displacement Serum—Complete Shift
The page was filled with chemical formulas that made Emily’s head swim and haphazardly written notes probably only Ralkin could make sense of.
Following the process of a Leader, but extending it to both sides … Test 08.06—self-extraction unsuccessful … 12.03—consider replacement almonite … Got a hold of Lincoln’s samples, not working—tried combinations 90%, 70%, 50% …
“What the hell are you up to?” Emily murmured.
Outside, the stairs creaked. Heavy footsteps approached.
Shit. Emily stuck the folder back where it came from. Heartbeat—
The footsteps stopped.
Emily focused once again and slipped through the door. Like walking through solid ice.
She yelped. Ralkin stared straight at her, his dark eyes unmoving, one arm stretched out. It’s fine. He can’t see you. She trod carefully around him, avoiding him in as far a circle as possible until she reached the stairs and ran up. One more shift through the front door, run down the street, and … release .
She collapsed on the sidewalk, partially from relief that she’d made it out but mostly from tiredness. Her body felt hollow, a dried, leeched husk.
“Emily!” James was beside her in a second, holding her up. But it was still too hard to stand. She slipped through his arms back to the ground. He kneeled and held her in a sitting position instead. “What happened?”
“A shift or two too many,” she murmured. “I’ll be fine. Just give me time. ”
“We can’t be seen here like this. Can you walk?”
She wanted to say yes, but only an incoherent mumble came out.
“All right then.” James wrapped one arm around her back and, with the other, reached under her knees. He lifted her with a grunt.
Oh, god. He’s carrying me. “This isn’t needed—”
And then everything went dark.
Emily woke up on top of a brown-red striped blanket on a narrow bed. James sat on a chair on the other side of the small, sparsely decorated room.
“There you are, Flicker,” he greeted gently. He crossed to a side table and poured a glass of white liquid from the pitcher. At Emily’s dubious stare, he explained, “Milk,” and handed it to her.
“One learns to be careful around you and drinks,” she said.
James let out a short laugh, then sobered. “You gave me a scare back there.”
“Sorry. Too much phasing, I reckon.” She lifted on her elbows, pleased to notice her strength was returning. “Ralkin was outside the lab. I needed to escape quickly. Doing more phasing during one freeze probably didn’t help, either.”
James stared at her with a blank expression. “Sometimes I’m not sure whether I don’t understand you because you’re from another time or because I don’t get the specifics of time travel.”
“I’m going to be fine,” she said. “It’s happened before. Phasing tires me out. I need to recharge, and I’m good to go again.”
“Maybe.” He sat on the bed. “But what would’ve happened if this tiredness got to you while you were still inside the house? I don’t think it’s a very safe method.”
“Says the goddamn gunslinger. ”
“That’s different.” He pointed a finger at her. “I know what I’m doing. It’s not like I’m going to faint in the middle of a shot.”
“Well, I know what I’m doing, too! And you don’t since, as you said, the fine details of time travel escape you.”
He leaned closer. “You could always explain them to me.”
Emily jutted her chin forward. “And then you’ll let me do what I want?”
“If it’s safe.”
“None of this is a hundred percent safe. But we’re partners, so we have to do it.”
His face ended up only inches away, narrowed blue eyes drilling into hers. A wave of warmth rippled the air between them.
Then James pulled away. “So, what is this ‘freeze’ you do?”
Right. Time travel details. “It’s what you see as flickering. I don’t freeze time; I just change how my body works in time, and because it’s so much faster, it looks like I’ve disappeared and appeared somewhere else …” She explained it to him, and then the phasing—at least what she understood of it—and then everything else that Will didn’t cover, even mentioning that time she created a bubble of looped time.
“You’re quite the expert,” James said.
She snorted.
“What?” he said.
“Feels funny—someone calling me an expert on anything. But I suppose I can do some stuff. Will knows so much more, though.”
“About the theory, perhaps. But you’re a phasing, bubble-breaking time traveler.”
“Yeah.” She stared into the far corner of the room. “That is the one thing I’m good at. ”
James leaned back on the wall and looked at her. “It might be what you do, but it’s not all you are.”
“You’ve known me for a month.” Has it really only been that long? She was back in Boston, not far from where Will had met her that first day when he’d shown her Eggy, and she met Sylvia—and yet, it seemed like such a long journey.
“But I still know that you’re funny, resourceful, that you make a good friend and quite a bad enemy—if my sister is anyone to go by—and very spirited when you care about something.”
Was she blushing? No, that was probably from her still recuperating from the phasing. But she still blurted out, “And?”
“And”—James gave her his classic devastating smile—“you’re decent at poker.”
“I would’ve beaten you if I weren’t drunk.”
“You’ll have to prove that another time.”
Oh, she would. He’d see—wait, no. Partners. Friends only. Remember. And they had a mission to complete. She shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. “Anyway, the lab. Ralkin’s got the almonite serum brewing. He might be trying to create a new type of a time traveler. Like a Leader, but different?” She twisted the blanket between her fingers. “I couldn’t take any of it. The almonite was too hot to touch, and I can’t phase the papers.”
“It’s for the best. He’d notice it gone, and it would raise suspicions.” James stood and began pacing. “He doesn’t yet know we’re onto him. We should find out more before we alert him. And I’d like to see what Ross is doing, too.”
“He has to come visit Ralkin sooner or later.”
James nodded. “But I’d love to hear what they talk about, too. Can you, uh, shift to their meeting? ”
“I could, but unless I hide somewhere nearby, I won’t be able to eavesdrop. There are no good hiding spots in the lab.”
“No, that’s too dangerous,” he agreed.
“But we could wait,” she said. “Maybe until they have another meeting or two. Then I can repeat what I did today, hopefully with more time to investigate, and see what progress they’d made.”
James nodded, stroking his chin as he paced. “Instead of trying to decipher it ourselves, we let them collect more proof for us. And we sweep in at the right time.”
“But if we’re to carry anything out, it’ll need to be done without phasing, at least on the way out. And the lab’s got a weird lock—I think you always need a key to open the door from any side.” Prevents victims from escaping. Emily shuddered. “Will’s taught me a few things, but I’m not sure I can handle that one.”
“We’ll figure it out.” James gave her an encouraging smile. “I also wanted to go check with the police about any bodies found, preferably washed ashore, in the middle of June. If we find Ross’ victim, we might get somewhere.”
“Then it looks like we have a plan.” Emily rubbed her hands.
James weighed his head. “Half of one, at least. We can begin tomorrow.”
“Guess I’ll be going back home.” Emily readied her watch.
James attentively followed her movements, but when their eyes met, he just shrugged. “As you wish.”
She was running out of the fauxmonite barrels fast—but present-day Boston felt safer. It was better if James was far away. Besides, they’d left Eggy in Hartford, and Brayden continued production. She should be getting new barrels next week.
“Until tomorrow,” she said .
James gave a little nod. He looked strangely forlorn in the small, quiet, darkening room against the backdrop of a whitewashed wall without a single decoration.
It took everything she had to resist the urge of running into his arms.
“Go, then. Your world awaits.”
She swallowed a lump, nodded, and blinked out.
“Now that’s the life.” Sarah leaned back in her chair and loudly slurped her bottle of Coke. With the heat slowly abating from the concrete, it was turning out to be another lively evening in Boston’s Back Bay. Emily and Sarah had closed down the ice cream truck for the day and, after meeting their employer, skipped across the park to a café with outside tables.
The bar across the street was filling up, its inside screens flashing a football match. Emily used it as a resting place for her eyes while Sarah talked on.
“And you’re distracted again,” Sarah said.
“Huh?”
“Exactly. You’ve been like this for the whole day. Remember when you served that kid strawberry instead of vanilla?”
Yeah. That was awkward. And strawberries didn’t even have anything to do with James.
Emily groaned.
“Are you tired of the job? It’s only two weeks more.” Sarah put down the bottle. “Half a year from now, when you’re drowning in exams and terms papers, you’ll beg to be back here.” She knit her eyebrows. “But then, I guess you can just come back here. ”
That wouldn’t help. Everything will be different by then—what use would be coming back to this summer? To remind herself of what had been lost?
“You really are sullen,” Sarah said, still watching her.
“It’s just …” Emily sighed. “I’ll miss you. When you’re gone.”
“Gone? I’ll be back every summer,” Sarah said. “And during the winter holidays. And whenever I can come down. Or you can come up.” She laid her hand on Emily’s. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me because I’m attending a different college. I’ll annoy you for years to come. Unless you hide in some other time.”
That finally made Emily crack a tiny smile. “I’ll need to know at least one new conspiracy per month.”
“Can I negotiate that up to two?”
“Perhaps.”
“Done!” Sarah smacked the table like an auctioneer. “Hey, isn’t that the girl? Gracie? Hey, Gracie!” She shouted and waved to the other side of the street.
The brunette approached them. “Hi,” she greeted, gripping a pale pink half-moon bag. Her gaze flickered to the two available chairs at the table, but she remained standing.
“Come, sit,” Sarah invited her. “If you’ve got time.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve got nowhere to be.” Gracie’s lips quirked up slightly, and she took the chair next to Emily. “How are you?”
“Reminiscing about old times and future old times,” Sarah said.
Gracie opened her mouth but didn’t comment.
“Just school stuff,” Emily said. “Oh, hey. Which university do you go to? Sarah will also be studying in Boston. ”
“None.” Gracie kept busy by smoothing out the lace collar of her blouse. “I’ve been homeschooled.”
“Oh. That’s fine. I mean, your uncle is brilliant,” Emily said.
“Better than me in a year from now, when I’ll flunk all my exams,” Sarah said.
Gracie looked at them like she wasn’t sure how to respond, and only smiled.
Perhaps a change of topic would do. “If you have time, do you want to go to the movies?” Emily said.
“I’d love to. Can we go see Scott Pilgrim ?”
“Again?” Emily and Sarah asked in unison.
Gracie shrugged. “I liked it. I don’t go to the movies often.”
“Her uncle’s one of those bookish sorts,” Emily told Sarah.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Sarah said. “We should take you on a movie marathon.”
Emily let the conversation continue as they paid the bill and headed down the street, but she was unable to keep her mind from drifting again.
James would have loved this world. The TVs in the bars, the neon signs, the movies. He’d probably be an action junkie. He’d watch the Super Bowl religiously, and if they agreed on an evening date, they’d order take-out and eat on the sofa in the living—
Wait. No. She wasn’t thinking about that, she couldn’t be, because James could never come here, and it wasn’t as if she would be going back all the time because, well, she couldn’t, and it made no sense, anyway.
They were only friends. They agreed.
Emily looked around, desperate to focus on anything else. They passed the seafood restaurant. Next to it was the pretty white-and-red building, the very same one she’d seen in the past. Cleaned up, but the same .
She stopped. Were other buildings down the street the same, too? Some of them, the further you got into the residential area. Emily flicked her gaze from the street back to the building.
“… and didn’t you like—Emily?” Sarah turned. “What is it?”
What if Ralkin’s house was still there, too?
Emily looked from Sarah to Gracie, standing a few feet away. “I just got an idea.”