The Bureau of Time (38 page)

“I said,
move,
” the woman growled, cocking her gun for effect.

Shaun closed his eyes. His heart hammered in his chest and cold sweat beaded along his brow. He forced his legs to move, placing one foot in front of the other.

They entered the Resistance’s base, and the gates slammed shut with an echoing
bang
like the slamming of a judge’s gavel.

The passageway opened into a wide plaza, snow blanketing the wide expanse. Groups of rebels stood around burning campfires, armed with old guns or makeshift spears. Many were bustling around a large convoy that had been backed up into the plaza.

Shaun saw black metal – the convoy was loaded with weapons. Soldiers were inspecting the guns, and turned to watch the prisoners warily as they approached. His eyes lingered on the weapons.
If I could just find a way to get a gun—but then what? We’re surrounded.

The City Hall rose high above the plaza, an ornate building that had somehow survived the war. Its architecture was French-inspired with columns and carved images. A dome reached up toward the gray sky, and a scarlet flag fluttered from atop the spire, bearing the symbol of the sun rising above the horizon.

“Why are you here?” the woman asked, as they drew level with the weapons shipment. “You’re from White Tower – isn’t that right?”

Shaun clenched his jaw, refusing to answer. A sharp blow to the back of his head and he stumbled forward, red dots dancing before his eyes.

“I asked you a question,” the woman snarled. “Are you from White Tower?”

Conversation fell silent in the plaza, all eyes turning toward the group. Shaun bristled angrily.
I’m not from White Tower. I’m not from the Bureau of Time either. I serve myself and my own sense of what’s right.

Miller twitched beside him, his dark eyes darting over the enemies. They were vastly outnumbered. Shaun caught the scope-flash of the snipers hiding up in the City Hall, their rifles undoubtedly trained on his head.

“Shaun,” Miller whispered. “Now.”

It was so quick, so quiet, that he barely heard the words.

That was the moment when everything fell apart, when the world slipped over the edge of madness and into the abyss of insanity. The woman’s voice had been familiar all along, her Temporal signature a friendly reminder that hadn’t quite made sense.

When she grabbed his arm and spun him around, it all clicked into place.

A blur of red hair, electric-blue eyes staring in shock as she took in his face. A bandanna covered most of her head, with a single braid hanging over her chest; there were deep lines in her face, hard and unyielding against the cold and the horrors of the future world.

But it was a face he could never forget.

“Shaun?” Cassandra Wright asked, an older woman who, in a moment of shock, looked precisely like the girl twenty years her junior.

Then Miller teleported into nothingness, and the plaza erupted into chaos. He reappeared a moment later and seized an assault rifle from the truck, opening fire into the mass of tightly-packed bodies, gunshots roaring across the open area. Blood splashed onto the snow, but as the Resistance fighters turned to react, Miller was already gone, reappearing in a bright flash of light, right beside Shaun.

“
COME ON
!” Miller roared. “
MOVE
!”

But Shaun couldn’t move. He was paralyzed, unable to process the impossible. He knew about the alternate versions of people, he had accepted it as fact; now he was standing in front of Cassie, the girl he had loved and the girl he had pushed away – only, it
wasn’t
her, and at the same time, it
was.

“Shaun?” she whispered, her forehead crinkling, her hand reaching out to touch him—

Then the bullet tore through Shaun’s shoulder and he spun backward.

He collided with the compacted snow, pain exploding through his collarbone. He instinctively Timewalked the injury, staggering upright in a daze. Miller was fighting off the Resistance, taking cover behind an abandoned car that was doing little to stop the hail of bullets coming toward him.

Shaun couldn’t hear anything over the deafening explosions, couldn’t see anything except the bright flashes of light, couldn’t feel anything but the frigid wind.

More gunshots cracked through the air, heavy-caliber sniper rifle bullets blasting across the open plaza, narrowly missing him.

He saw it all happen in slow motion, unable to change anything. He was simply letting fate run its course, the unstoppable river of time eroding everything around him.

The Resistance fighters rounded the van, and as Miller ejected the spent magazine, he turned to shout at Shaun. He knew, in that moment, that he would never forget Miller’s wild eyes, those dark pits open wide with fear, pleading, begging for Shaun to act, to help him, to save him.

Miller’s body bucked as the bullets ripped into his chest.

Shaun wasn’t sure if he screamed, if he moved toward Miller, or if he did anything at all. His memory past that point was blurry and indistinct, a rapid-flash series of still images. One thing was clear though, above all else. He saw Cassandra Wright hesitate, just briefly, a shadow of indecision crossing her face.

Shaun knew he should have run. But he didn’t. He put his trust in Cassie, hoped that her moment of indecision would blossom into action, that she might try to stop the advancing soldiers thirsty for blood. In some naïve corner of his brain, he believed that the person who looked so much like the girl he had known would come through for him, would forgive him, would save him.

The words came to him, though in whose voice, he didn’t know – perhaps it was his own subconscious, manifesting in the voice of a hundred different people, or perhaps the words were whispered into his ear by a power far greater than anything he had ever known before.

They wear their faces, but they are imposters.

They are not the people you knew.

Shaun raised his hands – a desperate, misguided attempt to forestall the inevitable.

Without so much as a flicker of remorse, Cassandra Wright pulled the trigger and put a bullet through his chest.

THE REMAINING

“It was very rude how you disappeared like that,” Marissa drawled. She pushed off from the server bank and sauntered toward Cassie. “We were having such a lovely chat, too.”

“Marissa?” Reese snarled, his nostrils flaring. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You know her?” Cassie asked, tightening her grip on her handgun.

“I wish I didn’t.”

Marissa let out a sharp laugh and mocked a knife stabbing her chest. “Oh, how cruel. You know you loved me.” She walked forward, her hips cocking to one side then the other. She ran a long finger down Reese’s cheek. “You know you’ll never have anything better.”

“Get away from me,” Reese rumbled, holding her gaze. She didn’t move, her finger lingering on his chest. He let out an animal growl and slammed a hand into her throat, shoving her backward. “I said,
back off!
”

A flash of rage replaced Marissa’s usually icy expression, but only for a moment. She flicked a long bang of black hair behind her ear, returning to her impassive mask of emotion. “I guess we didn’t end things on a high note, did we?”

“The last thing I told you was to
drop dead.
Guess you couldn’t do me that favor, could you?”

“How about we take Couple’s Counseling outside?” Alanna proposed, holding her shotgun up, the barrel trained on the Russian. “What are you doing here, Marissa?”

“Don’t act surprised.” She ignored the gun like it was a toy.
To her, it probably is,
Cassie thought, picturing the ruined street, remembering the colossal amount of power that the girl could generate. She thought of Ryan, and of her father with a blade to his throat. Anger coiled in her stomach, threatening to spill over.

“I’m with the Resistance,” Marissa said. “I’m here to help you
stop
White Tower.”

“That’s a
lie!
” Cassie exploded, taking an aggressive step forward. “Zero is a rogue agent; you’re not here to help us, you’re here for your own purposes!”

Marissa turned her piercing hazel eyes on Cassie. “As hard as it is for you to believe, our goals share much with the Resistance. We just have different methods of achieving them. You should work
with
us, not
against
us.”

“I won’t do
shit
with you!” Cassie shouted, her face flushed. “Where’s my father? Tell me where he is!”

Marissa cocked her head sideways, just like an Adjuster. “Darling, he’s right where you left him – lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the street.”

Cassie screamed and threw herself at Marissa, avoiding Reese’s outstretched hand as he tried to hold her back. Marissa gave a lazy flick of her wrist and a beam of energy swept across the room, blasting a man-sized hole through the servers. The shockwave slammed into Cassie and threw her aside. She hit a bank of computers, metal crunching beneath her, jarring her back.

The Resistance fighters opened fire, but they never stood a chance. They were dispatched with a single gesture, the stench of blood and singed flesh accompanying their dying screams.

Reese and Alanna scrambled for cover behind the servers, but Marissa was playing with them now, a cat with a mouse. Wormholes opened and closed, fiery heat burning through the computers. Sparks flew into the air and the harsh reek of melting metal and smoke filled the air.
She’s destroying the computers? Why?

Gunshots roared around the small room, but Marissa remained untouched. A harsh cackle rose out of her as she whirled around, black hair flinging out in a wide circle. Cassie picked herself upright, gasping for air. She staggered forward, reaching for her Temporal abilities, and threw out a fast-moving shield. The solid wall of energy collided with Marissa and tossed the Timewalker aside.

Reese edged around a half-melted mess of steel and electronics, shooting at Marissa, but the girl wasn’t there – in a heartbeat, she teleported across the room, arriving in a flash of light that blinded Cassie. She blinked rapidly to restore her vision, forced to take refuge behind an overturned desk.

A shrill, female shriek cut through the air, and Cassie peeked over the cover. Her heart stopped when she saw Alanna, an arm around her neck and a gun to her head – and Marissa behind the trigger.

“Move and the bitch dies!” Marissa snarled, shoving the gun harder against Alanna’s head. Cassie hesitated, glancing across the room to where Reese stood, paralyzed. “Drop the guns!”

Cassie sucked in a deep breath, trying to gauge the distance between them. Marissa was deadly serious, there was no doubting that. She knew in her gut that there was no way out of this room without one, or all of them, dying.

I am a Timewalker.

I can change the future.

“Put the guns down!” Marissa shrieked, squeezing Alanna tighter. “Drop them or I paint the wall with her brains!”

Cassie raised her gun, staring down the iron sights. This was exactly like the Bureau’s training exercises.
Exactly the same.
Except the enemy was a powerful Timewalker, not a cardboard cutout. And if she missed, if something went wrong—

She pushed the thought from her mind.
It will work. It
has
to work.

Cassie squeezed the trigger, the gun rocking back into her shoulder, the muzzle flash obscuring her vision.

Her aim was off, and when the answering gunshot rang out, Cassie activated her powers, a ripple of Temporal Energy racing outwards, enveloping Marissa and the now-lifeless Alanna. Reese’s hoarse cry faded into nothingness as the world Shifted by five precious seconds.

Then Cassie was staring down the iron sights, the handgun bucking, the spent casing curling through the air, gunpowder residue blasting across her wrist. Again, she was off, the crimson blood vanishing from the world but remaining etched in her mind. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she activated her innate powers, the world bending to her will.

Third time staring down the barrel.

Her hands shook dangerously, the gun wavering. She wiped a hand across her mouth, tears and sweat smearing her skin. She sucked in a deep breath, picturing the reality she wanted to take place, a single still-frame of Alanna alive and well, Marissa lying beside her, incapacitated.

Cassie pulled the trigger.

The slug exploded out of the barrel, hurtling toward the target. She dug into her Affinity, gathering and redirecting Temporal Energy toward the bullet, guiding it, pushing it through the air, holding that image in her mind.

Scarlet splashed against the wall, and there was an ear-splitting cry.

Marissa recoiled, dropping her gun. She clutched her shoulder, blood spilling between her fingers. Her startled scream ended in a pained gasp, and her hazel eyes flicked up toward Cassie, her gaze filled with pure hatred.

Reese was already across the room, pulling Alanna to safety. Cassie leaped toward Marissa, but she was too slow, the distance too far – the Russian girl snarled and teleported away, vanishing into a tiny speck of space. Cassie drew up short and swore explosively, staring at the spot where the Timewalker had been moments before – should she rewind time, and force Marissa to reappear?

Her moment of indecision stretched longer than five seconds, and she lowered her hands, her breath rattling out.

“That was an amazing shot!” Reese gasped, shaking his head. “How did you learn to shoot like that?”

Cassie gave him a small, sad smile. “Practice.”

Alanna brushed Reese away, her clothes stained red. “It’s not my blood,” she said quickly. “Reese, I’m fine. Natalie – thank you. That was incredible.”

“Don’t mention it,” she murmured, but inside, she was screaming.

How many more people do I have to see die? How many times do I have to intervene against fate?

What happened when she couldn’t save them all – what happened when
that
time, that one time she couldn’t, they died permanently? Would she be alone, the last person alive in a sea of corpses, haunted by the ghosts of the people she had seen returned from beyond the grave?