Timescape (3 page)

David could tell his brother was trying not to look guilty.

Dad continued: “Besides, he was trying to explain what we'd find here when Keal fell through the portal.”

Xander waved his hand over his head. “But this has nothing to do with
finding Mom
.”

Their mother had been kidnapped into one of the worlds, and ever since then their lives had been consumed by trying to rescue her.

“Jesse wanted us to see the destroyed city, the future,” David said glumly. “To know how bad it gets . . . if we don't stop it.”

“Stop it?” Xander said. “How?”

“Worry about that later,” Keal said, glancing up toward the ridge. “We gotta get out of here.” He looked at each of them. “Ready?”

“No,” Xander snapped.

Dad gripped Xander's shoulder and spoke to Keal. “You go first. Keep your cap and blanket in front of you. Follow their pull. David, you grab Keal's belt. Don't let go. Xander, hold on to your brother's belt. I'll bring up the rear.”

Keal reached behind him and produced the pistol.

“Don't—” David said.

“Just to scare them,” Keal said. He read the concern on David's face. “I promise.”

“Unless you
have
to,” Xander said. “Right? You'll use it on them if you have to?”

Keal said nothing, and David didn't know what to say:
have to
was
have to
.

Dad said, “If you can't feel the pull, or my things tug me in a different direction, I'll take the lead. Deal?”

“Let's do it,” Keal said. He stood.

David slipped his fingers around Keal's belt and felt Xander grab his. He leaned closer to his brother and whispered, “Strong and courageous.”

Xander smiled—the first smile David had seen in a while.

Keal bolted forward, nearly yanking David off his feet. He fell in step, and they went over the hill. They were twenty paces down when the first of the creatures spotted them. It stood, pointed, started howling.

A bloodcurdling scream—close—seemed to knock David's heart out of his chest. Then he realized it was Keal. The man was howling back at the creatures, making the scariest lion roars David had ever heard come out of a human. Maybe it was to psych himself up for the plunge into enemy territory or to scare the tar out of the creatures, but whatever the reason, David liked it. He began screaming himself, an airy, high-pitched squeak at first, then deep, loud, get-out-of-my-way yells. Behind him, Xander's and Dad's voices kicked in. They were a freight train of hurt steaming down the hill.

The creatures scattered, disappearing into the rubble or hurling their bodies over it, tumbling to get away. But not all of them: a dozen or more actually stepped forward. Watching the four of them coming, these drew together. They began picking up rocks.

Keal stopped screaming long enough to say, “Watch your step!”

They hit the first of the rubble, chunks of concrete the size of watermelons. David jumped over them, on them, swerved around them. It became harder to keep hold of Keal's belt. Just as he moved right to avoid a jutting piece of rebar, Keal went left. David came off his feet, and he sailed into the rebar. It scraped his arm, but he had no time to think of the pain. He scrambled, his feet out of control, then pedaled again beside Keal. Xander was having just as much trouble. He jerked at David's pants, causing David's hips to shift this way and that, totally out of sync with his upper torso.

David was about to release his grip on Keal when Dad yelled, “Stay together! Don't let go!”

They continued that way, a train now off the tracks but still locomoting forward—emphasis on
loco
: didn't that mean
crazy
in Spanish? Yeah,
crazy
. Down, down, closer and closer to the creatures waiting for them.

Keal angled a different direction, toward the outer edge of the creatures' camp. Most likely, David knew, Keal wasn't trying to prevent a collision with the creatures but was following the tug of the items.

Fine with me.

The creatures noticed the shift and started jogging to intercept them.

Thirty seconds, David guessed. Half a minute until they met: rocks, teeth, claws, and all.

A gunshot startled him. He tumbled, catching sight of the pistol raised in Keal's hand, aimed at the sky. His feet were gone, left behind. He fell. Xander came down on David, crushing him against a jagged rock. His cast hit the ground. Agony, like an electrical current, radiated into his shoulder.

Keal jerked to a stop. He reached back, grabbed David's shirt, and hoisted him up.

David felt Xander rising behind him.

“Let's move!” Keal said. He fired another shot into the air.

The creatures responded. Several were already running away. The others were disappearing behind slabs of broken buildings, into cubbyholes.

“The pull's strong now,” Dad said. “The portal must be just ahead.”

Keal slid up onto the hood of a rusted, crumpled car, pulling David with him. He dropped down on the other side. The train followed.

Only one creature remained. Another gunshot sent it scrambling between two huge sections of what looked to David like a street, only standing on end.

Yeah,
he thought.
We're doing it.

The four of them scrambled over larger and larger clumps of debris. Finally, they jumped down onto a flat area, cleared of trash. A big circle of rocks in the middle marked a fire pit. Only gray and black ashes filled the space inside.

“Over here,” Keal said, tugging David—and, in turn, Xander and Dad—across the open area.

A movement caught David's eye. He turned in time to see the bold creature lurch into the clearing from the other side. The thing held a spear over his head, aiming it—and wild, fiery eyes—directly at David.

CHAPTER
six

The creature hoisted the long weapon back over his shoulder.

“Keal!” Xander yelled. “Shoot him!”

Keal swung the pistol around and pulled the trigger.
Click. Click. Click.

“Aahh!” he said. “I took out a bullet for safety!” He jabbed his fingers into his shirt pocket. “It's not here. I lost it.”

David watched the creature shuffle forward. He kept shifting his aim to each of them in turn, as if deciding which to kill.

Who?
David thought.
Who's going to get it?

“Move!” Keal yelled. He leaped.

Xander went the other direction. Connected to both of them, David jerked sideways, right, then left. And the four of them didn't go either way; their evasive maneuvers canceled each other out.

David let go of Keal's belt and dropped straight down.

A flash of white shot out from the rubble at the perimeter and crashed into the man with the spear. A second creature was on top of the spearman, bringing him down. Their rescuer ended up on top. He slashed his hands at Spear-man and looked up. Scar tissue ran from his hairline, skipped over his eye, and continued down his cheek. It was the creature David had saved from Keal's first shot. Its eyes locked on David's.

David nodded. He scrambled up, grabbing Keal's pants. “Go! Go!”

They ran across the clearing.

Tugging along behind Keal, David looked back at the creatures. The bold one slammed the side of the spear into the other's head. The one who'd saved them went down, appearing to be out cold. Spear-man turned toward them again.

“Faster,” David said. “Keal, run!”

Spear-man stepped forward and almost fell. The other creature had a grip on his ankle. Spear-man spun and thrust the weapon down, nicking the downed man's calf. He howled, baring a mouth of bent and missing teeth. He grabbed the javelin. Spear-man tugged but couldn't free it. He let it go and ran for them.

“Let go of me, David,” Keal said, handing him the blanket.

“But, why—?”

Keal charged toward their attacker.

David let his fingers slip off the belt. He said, “Dad?”

His father held up his hand, telling him to hold on.

Before Keal and the creature met, Keal ducked low. He seized the man by the knees, rose, and flipped him over his head. The creature landed on his back, hitting so hard David winced. Keal leaped backward, planting one foot on either side of his opponent. He dropped, aiming his knee at the man's chest. The creature rolled against Keal's leg, surprisingly fast. As Keal's knee struck the ground, the creature slid out from under him and sprang from the ground, wrapping his arms and legs around Keal's head and chest.

Dad hurried past Xander and David. “Let's go. This way.” He pointed. The edges of the blanket in David's hands stretched and flapped in the same direction.

David grabbed his arm. “We can't leave him!”

Dad appeared unsure. Keal yelled, and all eyes returned to the fight.

The creature was biting the top of Keal's head. Dad started for them. Keal planted a fist in the creature's ear. It was the fist that held the tam-o'-shanter; David wondered if the cap would pad the blow, but the creature's head snapped away. He fell off Keal and thudded onto the ground. The creature gripped its head and rolled back and forth.

Keal ran to the group, collected the blanket, and said, “Okay, then. Belts?”

They held on to each other again, and Keal led them across the clearing. He climbed on top of a chest-high lump of asphalt, reached back, and yanked David up. They dropped to the other side. Xander lost his grip on David's pants and spilled over the rock. He rose and moved just as Dad's feet came down.

The butterfly net flew out of Dad's hand and sailed through the air. As Dad reached for it, it hit Xander's back, flipped over his shoulder, struck David in the head, and kept going—until it disappeared a few seconds later.

The portal! David saw it now. It presented itself as a shimmering oval that seemed to project in midair a translucent image of a room: wood floor, finished walls, a bench.

Keal plunged into it. His body wavered, as though seen through the heated exhaust of a jet engine. Then David went through. Blinding light. A gust of wind. He landed on his knees, cracking them hard. He fell and shot forward. He was still gripping Keal, who was scrambling up onto the bench, apparently to get out of the way.

David didn't feel Xander on his back. Hanging from Keal, his legs dangling on the floor, he craned his head around.

His brother leaped through the portal. He kept coming, tripped over David, and ran headfirst into the closed door that led to the hallway.

“Oww!” Xander yelped. He bounded back, holding his head.

Dad burst into the room and slammed into Xander, shoving him once again into the door.

Groaning, Xander turned and slid down the door until he sat on the floor.

“Sorry,” Dad said, stepping over David's legs. He leaned to examine Xander's forehead. “You okay?”

“I
was
,” Xander said, burying his face in his hands. “Until we got home.”

David pulled himself up by Keal's belt and plopped down on the bench. “I thought we were dead meat,” he said. He rubbed his face where the butterfly net had smacked it, then caressed his cast, though a lot of good that did. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath.

Keal lowered himself beside David. He set the pistol on the bench and patted his chest. Then he reached into a pocket and fished out a bullet, holding it up for David to see. “Wrong pocket,” he said shyly.

“Some safety trick,” David said. He grinned at Keal. “I'm kind of glad it worked out the way it did.”

Keal set the bullet down. He rubbed the top of his head and brought back a bloody palm. Long gouges—claw marks—ran the length of his forearm.

“Better get something for those,” Dad said. “Who knows what kind of diseases those creatures have.”

“Let's rest first,” Keal said, closing his eyes.

Dad sat on the other side of David, nudging him. “Scoot over, fatty.”

“Hey,” David said, thankful to be saying something that didn't have anything to do with life and death. “You always tell me I could use more meat on my bones. I—” He stopped. “Did you just hear something? Like a scream?”

Dad scowled at him, listening. “No, I . . .” He turned. “The portal's still open.” A gusty sound was coming from it. “It always shuts. When the last item comes through, it always closes.”

“Keal,” Xander said. “Where's the tam-o'-shanter? The cap you had?”

Keal cracked an eye. “What?” He looked at his hands, seeming surprised to find them empty.

Frowning, Dad stood. He reached for the door.

“No, I meant in the hall,” David said “I thought I heard—”

There it was again: muffled by the door and the windy sound of the open portal—a high, terrified scream.

Dad spun, eyes wide. “Toria!”

Xander reached up for the handle, turning and rising.

Dad took a step for the hallway door.

Behind him, a shadow darkened the portal. Spear-man leaped through.

CHAPTER
seven

WEDNESDAY, 6:50 P.M.

David cried out.

The creature—Spear-man—landed on Dad's back and clung to it. The tam-o'-shanter fell from the creature's hand. Before it hit the floor, the portal door slammed shut.

Dad staggered forward just as Xander got the hallway door open. Dad rushed through, turned, and rammed the creature into a wall. Spear-man held on, scratching at Dad's face and neck.

Keal grabbed the gun, opened the cylinder, and dropped in the bullet he'd found. He stepped into the hallway and tried to get a bead on the creature.

David and Xander darted out of the antechamber. They dodged past Dad, the thing on his back, and Keal's swinging, gun-packing arm.

Cold air blew against David's arms, the back of his neck. He looked behind him. “Xander,” he said, “the door.”

Another antechamber door, a few feet from them, was open. Light and rainy wind poured from it. The family's aluminum ladder lay on the floor, across the doorway.