The Edge of Forever (14 page)

Just thinking of crossing the roof, my heart slams painfully in my chest. The roof of a three-story building. And actually leaping from said roof to the tree.

I step back and lean against a dusty box, my legs suddenly weak. Maybe I should suck it up and call for help. That would be the smart thing to do. The safe thing to do. But my only chance of finding out the truth will disappear.

I’m on my own.

Before I can change my mind, I set the scrapbook down on the floor and go back to the window. My hands shake as I unlock the latch and push the heavy glass up. For a moment, it refuses to move. I almost give up. Almost. Gritting my teeth, I push harder. The window creeps upward with a groan. I step back as a warm breeze blows against my face. My skin erupts in goose bumps.

I consider leaving the scrapbook behind, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back up here right away. Hopefully dropping it in the shrubs will keep it from being damaged. I just hope
I
can make it down the tree in one piece.

This window is near the edge of the roof. After propping the scrapbook on the shingles, I crawl out and sit on the ledge, trying to get my nerve up to move. From inside the attic, the view wasn’t too threatening. Now I feel like I’m sitting on the edge of a bottomless chasm, waiting to fall into forever. I can’t make myself move. I can’t catch my breath. Even if I wanted to, I know I couldn’t scream or yell. Inside my head though, that’s another story. As I stare at the ground, wishing I was already down there, I hear myself shouting
somebody please help me
.

I scoot back against the side of the dormer window and pick up the scrapbook. Since my parents aren’t in my life and I have no idea if they’re still alive, I’ve sometimes imagined how I’d die. And obviously that day has come because I don’t think I’ll ever move from this spot. I’m probably having a heart attack. If I don’t die by heart attack, I’ll probably fall off the roof and break my neck. Or I could stay up here and starve to death.

My breathing becomes more labored, but I hold on to the scrapbook like it could keep me safe. Blackness settles over me. I close my eyes, praying that my death doesn’t hurt too much.

16

BRIDGER

APRIL 10, 2013

“I
can’t find Alora,” Grace says as she enters the room. A panicky expression is on her face.

When she returned from her errand earlier, she seemed upset because Alora wasn’t with me. Then she went looking for her. It irritated me because I’d
finally
connected my DataLink to the antiquated Internet and was searching for more info about Alora. I had to sever the connection.

“Are you sure she said she was going to do her homework?” she asks.

“Yes. And she said she had some other things to do.”

Grace sits across from me and heaves a sigh. “Yeah, I bet she’s got things to do. I don’t know what’s gotten into that girl lately.”

Interesting. So Alora has been doing something out of the ordinary. I wonder if that something will cause her death. I want to ask Grace what she means. Before I can, she launches into a mini-interrogation.

Ten minutes later she finishes. Now Grace thinks I’m a nineteen-year-old newly enlisted navy cadet who won’t have to report until August, but has a thing for wearing the uniform.

Zed and Elijah would laugh their asses off if they were here.

Grace checks her phone, looking worried. “I texted Alora a little while ago and she still hasn’t answered.”

As long as I’m lying, I might as well give her another. Anything so she’ll leave me alone. “I heard a noise in the back of the house a while ago. It sounded like a door closing.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me. Alora likes to run.” Grace’s face lights up in a radiant grin. She stands and takes a few steps toward the doorway. “I’m fixing to start supper now. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thanks.”

“Well, just holler if you need anything.”

After Grace leaves, I activate the DataLink again and wait as it locks on to a wireless signal. I search for any mention of Alora, but like before, I can’t come up with anything. Just like I couldn’t back in my time. That’s beyond odd. Over the years, a lot of info was lost during the conversion of the old Internet to the DataNet, but I still should be able to locate any public data on Alora from this time period. It’s like she doesn’t exist, but that’s crazy. She’s here. I guess she just doesn’t participate in anything.

I deactivate the DataLink and rub my fist in the other hand. How can I find out what’s so special about Alora if I don’t know anything about her? I could always ask but I’m a stranger to her. Somehow, I’ve got to gain her trust. That means interacting with her even more. Which I shouldn’t do.

I slam my fist against the cushion. What was my dad thinking? Why did he want me to save Alora? Something isn’t adding up, but I can’t figure out what it is. A fog clouds my thoughts, keeping me from thinking clearly.

A familiar heavy sensation begins building in me. It starts in my chest and rapidly spreads through my body. Before I go into a full-blown panic attack, I pull a dose of Calmer out of my portacase. As soon as it’s in my system, I lie back against the pillow and blow out a few quick puffs of air.

When the fog lifts, I sit up and swing my legs off the couch. My knee twinges, but the pain isn’t as bad as before. If I keep it elevated longer, I might be able to clear out in another hour with almost no pain. That would be the smart thing to do. But I need to find Alora now. The sooner I can figure out what’s going on with her, the sooner I can figure out why Dad wanted to save her. Then I can go home.

I pick up my portacase and limp out of the room. Grace is humming an off-key tune, then something loud clanks. I jump at the noise and hurry to the front door. I need to get outside so I can use the tracker on my DataLink to see if Alora is nearby. I could use it inside, but the last thing I need is for Grace to pop in while a holographic representation of her house hovers over my arm. I’m sure she’d wild out, and I don’t have a Mind Redeemer, which I could use to erase her memories.

My knee is throbbing again by the time I’m on the front porch. I sink down on the nearest rocking chair and stretch my leg. Things are going from bad to worse. Even if I find Alora on the tracker, how can I get to her with my knee messed up? A pain patch would help, but I didn’t bring one. At least I remembered the Calmer. I can push through pain if necessary. I wouldn’t be able to function without my Calmer.

I activate the DataLink and open the tracker. A holographic globe appears over my arm. I enter my coordinates, and the globe is replaced with a holographic representation of the inn. I extend the search parameters to include up to a half mile around the inn. Then I program it to only display human life signs. Three red blips appear before me. Grace in the house, me on the porch, and another on the roof. I frown. That can’t be right. Damn tracker must have a malfunction. The blip has to be Alora, but what would she be doing on the roof? It’s more likely she’s in the attic. That would explain why Grace couldn’t find her earlier.

I deactivate the tracker. I could head to the attic and try to get Alora to talk to me. But what would I say?

And that’s when I see Alora. One second I’m alone, then the next she’s on the ground under a tree. I blink a few times, thinking I’m hallucinating again. But no, she’s still there.

And she’s not moving.

I ignore the pain pulsing in my knee as I rush to her side. She’s clutching a large book, and she’s so still. Like she’s dead. Bile rises in my throat. It’s like looking back in time, when Vika was the one stretched before me. Unmoving.

But this isn’t Vika.

Alora’s chest rises slowly, as if she’s just taking a nap. I stare at her, then look at the roof. If Alora fell from up there, she wouldn’t be laying here so peaceful. And I know what I saw. Alora didn’t fall. She materialized before me. I shake my head in disbelief.

She’s a Space Bender.

During my first year at the Academy, I learned that natural-born Talents existed throughout our history. But they’re extremely rare. One of the tasks of the DTA is to identify them. Obviously Alora is one, but it still doesn’t explain why my dad wanted to save her life. It doesn’t make sense.

I also wonder if she even knows. She’s passed out, which indicates her abilities are emerging. If she knows what’s happening, that’s fine. If not, I have to pretend I don’t suspect anything. I can’t change what’s already happened.

Alora moans and relaxes her grip on the book. It slides to the ground, and her eyes suddenly fly open. She fixates on me and says, “Oh my God.” Her fingers fly to her face as she sits up, now looking up at the roof. “Oh. My. God.”

Yeah, she definitely doesn’t know she’s a Space Bender.

Alora’s face grows even paler than it already is. She keeps her eyes—eyes that look so much like Vika’s—trained on the roof. “What happened?”

It surprises me how much I want to tell her the truth. Anything to wipe the fear off her face. But I can’t. “I don’t know. I just came outside and I found you.”

“But I . . . I don’t understand.”

She’s in shock. I know that feeling. I had a hard time processing things the first time I shifted, and I knew what was happening to me. I can’t imagine what it’s like for her, realizing something is going on and yet not knowing what it is. She has to be wilding out. No wonder Grace suspects something is going on with her.

But it doesn’t answer my questions. Yeah, she’s a natural-born Space Bender. But I need to figure out what ties her to my dad.

Alora eases herself up and leans back over to pick up her book.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

She strides toward the front porch and answers without looking back. “I . . . I’ve really got to study. I’ll see you at supper.”

I wait for her to enter the house before limping back to the porch. I start to sit again, but I change my mind. I can’t stay here tonight or any night. Accepting Grace’s offer was stupid. What I need to do is try to shift closer to Alora’s death date. Even if I’m a few days, or even a week or two off-target, it’s better than being stuck in April. A part of me doesn’t want to try it—there’s a definite risk of ending up in my time. But I can’t lose three months of my life staying here.

After I grab my portacase, I head for the woods next to the house and stop just inside the tree line. I close my eyes and clear my mind. I will my body to relax and picture July 4, 2013 in my head.

The air rushes away from me as I enter the Void.

I’m alone. I’m Nowhere.

My body grows tense. This has to work. I have to arrive on July fourth.

The sun is low in the sky when I reappear. Whatever the date is, the time is earlier than what I just left. I breathe deeply, savoring the oxygen rushing in my lungs.

The first thing I notice is there are no autos. The second thing I notice is a worried-looking man standing on the front porch of the inn, talking with someone dressed in a navy blue uniform. I stifle a groan. It’s the man who was conducting the tour guide from my own time and a DTA military official.

Then I hear a voice behind me say, “Put your hands in the air.”

17

ALORA

APRIL 11, 2013

T
he dismissal bell rings, covering a loud roar from my stomach. Thanks to Trevor, I had to skip lunch today and hide out in the library. From the moment I stepped on campus, it seems like he’s been everywhere. And I have no desire to talk to him. Ever. I just wish he’d get the message.

I deposit my books in my locker and hurry outside. All I want to do is get home so I can search for a way to contact John Miller. I couldn’t concentrate on anything last night after blacking out. How could I? I mean, how on earth did I get down from the roof without killing myself?

I thought that guy, Bridger, might have seen how I did it. But when I went downstairs and Aunt Grace realized Bridger had left without even telling us, she freaked out. We spent an hour combing the house to make sure he didn’t steal anything. Which he didn’t.

The tension I’d been feeling evaporates the moment I step outside. Trevor must have finally realized I don’t want to be around him. I’m almost cheerful as I join everyone heading to the parking lot. Sela’s last class is on the other side of campus, so it’ll take her a few more minutes to get to her car.

I round the main building and stop suddenly when I see who’s just in front of me—Trevor and Naomi. And like an idiot, I stand there, frozen.

Naomi’s face is flushed as she talks to him. I can’t understand what she’s saying, but I can just make out the words “followed” and “need you.” She wipes her eyes, not caring that she’s crying in full view of everyone, and says in a louder voice, “Please listen to me.” She then places her hand on Trevor’s chest. He just brushes it off.

I wonder for a moment why she’s acting so desperate and why she feels the need to follow Trevor around. Naomi is gorgeous and could have any guy she wants. But it’s really none of my concern. What I have to do is get out of there before Trevor sees me. The last thing I need is to get involved in whatever drama is going on with them, but suddenly he looks up and locks eyes with me. He says something to Naomi and walks away. In my direction.

Goodbye, cheerful mood.

I make myself move before he can get to me. If there weren’t so many kids around, I’d be tempted to run, but then I’d look ridiculous. Besides, it’s not like I can hide in Sela’s car. She has the keys.

I almost make it to the parking lot when I hear Trevor right behind me. “Alora, wait!”

Oh, this should be fun. I stop and slowly face him.

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“Nope,” I lie, keeping my eyes straight ahead. I’m going to kill Sela if she doesn’t show up soon.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I’ve been trying to apologize, but for some reason you’ve been avoiding me.” He flashes a grin that would probably make any other girl throw herself at him.

I turn around and resume walking.

“Hey,” Trevor says, stepping in front of me. “Can’t you talk to me for a minute?”