23 Minutes (18 page)

Except, of course, that Wallace is looking directly at her, too.

“Drop,” Wallace repeats, emphasizing each word. “The. Guns.”

Daniel holds his arms up and away from his body to indicate surrender. He sets his weapon down next to the coffee machine. Bobby, following Daniel's lead, puts his on the deposit/withdrawal slip stand.

The clock on the wall shows 1:35, which still gives Zoe four minutes, so she doesn't need to yank free of Charlotte—at least, not immediately. Surely Daniel and Bobby laying down their arms must have appeased Wallace. At least for the moment.

“You,” he says to Daniel, and gestures for him to step farther away from the table.

Daniel does.

“And you,” he says to Bobby. “Lock the door. And close the window blinds.”

That doesn't sound good. Zoe remembers the time she watched
from the street, and the helpful witness told her there was a hostage situation in the bank.

“And the rest of you,” Wallace yells, “I said
shut up
! Nobody needs to get killed if you just shut the hell up and do what I say!”

As a motivational speech, it leaves a great deal to be desired, but the noise level inside the bank drops to some very ragged breathing and a few whimpers.

And all the while Wallace's gun is still aimed at Zoe and Charlotte.

With his free hand, Wallace reaches into an inside pocket of his raincoat, and he pulls out a canvas bag, which he tosses at the teller closest to him. “Everybody else,” Wallace says, “face down on the floor. Hands behind your heads.”

Everybody?
Unsure if that order includes them, Zoe looks at Charlotte to check her reaction.

Charlotte suddenly releases Zoe's arm and dives for the floor on the far side of the guard rail.

Before Zoe can lower herself down, she's aware of a blur of movement in her peripheral sight and she hears Daniel, sounding a bit frantic, say, “Don't—”

And then someone has grabbed Zoe by the ponytail.

“How many times do I have to say
shut up
?” Wallace demands, his voice shouting just inches from Zoe's ear because, of course, he's the one who has a fistful of her hair.

Daniel, who has risen to one knee, once again lowers himself to the floor.

“This one of yours, Lentini?” Wallace asks. “This your kid sister?”

Daniel shakes his head, and Wallace aims his gun at Charlotte. “This Lentini's sister?” he asks her.

Charlotte, too, shakes her head. “Just some stray he's taken on.”

Not that it makes any difference, but Zoe resents how Charlotte has made her sound like a feral cat, with Daniel being the neighborhood crazy cat lady.

Still holding the sodden lump of her papers, Zoe wraps her arms around herself, wondering if the playback spell will work since Wallace has hold only of her hair.

Trouble is, she needs to say
playback
out loud. She can whisper. But will
any
speaking set Wallace off?

Before she can decide whether to take the risk, he spins her around, and now he has his arm wrapped around her neck, which is definitely too much contact for playback to work. “You'll still do,” he tells her, which sounds ominous. She decides it's best not to wonder,
For what?

“Keep it moving,” Wallace orders the tellers as they take turns stuffing banded stacks of money into his bag.

Zoe can't squirm loose; she knows she can't. What she manages to do is to catch a look at the big wall clock. Only two minutes left till 1:39, and then she'll be stuck with this time, not able to go back to any part of it.

Story line closed. Forever.

As her gaze drops away from the clock, she sees Daniel is watching her from his prone position on the floor in an anxious, bewildered way. He mouths something, but she can't tell what. He glances at the clock, then back at her. Oh. The next time he silently tells her
Go now
, she gets it. He's telling her to play back. She realizes she hasn't told him—this time—about how she can't be touching anyone. She makes a tiny gesture, a flick of her fingers, toward Wallace's arm around her neck and mouths back at Daniel,
Can't.

Does he understand?

Daniel shifts his attention to Wallace. “Let the girl go,” he says. “A minor doesn't make a good hostage. You can't take her out of here. Cops will put out an Amber Alert, they'll go all-out to stop you, and they won't take any chances, they'll send a sniper, you won't even—”

Almost conversationally, Wallace tells him, “I
am
looking for an excuse to shoot you in the face, you do realize that, don't you?”

Even given her own situation, Zoe winces. That's just too reminiscent of the very first time.

“All the same,” Daniel finishes, “I'd make a much better hostage.”

Zoe refuses to allow herself to think about this, one way or the other.

Wallace considers. Or, more likely, pretends to. It's hard to say. He puts his gun up to Zoe's head, then points it at Daniel, then brings it back to Zoe. “Naw,” he says. “I think I'll stay with her.” To Zoe he says, “I'll even let you hold the money, how's that, little blue girl?”

Zoe has no expectation that Wallace will let her live beyond her usefulness in getting him out of the bank—despite Daniel's earlier assertion that Wallace is not all bad.

So this is it
, she thinks.
I've finally fixed things. Daniel gets to live, and Charlotte, and Bobby, and the rest.

It's not like she has a good life or anything. Nor much prospect for things improving in the future. She hadn't thought much about dying before today, but now she finds a bit of satisfaction in the idea that her dying will save others. However pointless her life has been, her death won't be meaningless.

Looking ready to cry, the last teller hands Zoe the bag, which has made its way back to this end of the counter.

“OK,” Wallace says to bank guard Bobby, “you can unlock the door now, then stand out of my way. You're another one I wouldn't mind shooting.”

“She's just a kid,” Bobby protests on Zoe's behalf.

Wallace answers, “And if she behaves herself, she'll be fine.”

Zoe doesn't believe this, and she doubts anyone else does.

Daniel, of course, cannot leave well enough alone. Although he knows not to sit up, and so remains belly-down on the floor, he says, “You're in a lot of trouble already.” He keeps on talking even as Wallace starts to turn back to him. He just speaks more rapidly, saying, “But that's nothing to the trouble you'll be in for kidnapping a minor. The police outside—”

“There
are
no police outside,” Wallace shouts. He's walked Zoe with him as he's approached Daniel, the gun held out before him.

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
Zoe thinks at Daniel. If he gets himself killed now, that will negate her own meaningful death.

Wallace says, “None of the tellers had a chance to push the alarm. I was watching.”

“It was pressed as you were first coming in,” Daniel tells him.

Wallace has reached Daniel and has his gun aimed at Daniel's forehead, inches away. But Daniel's words have him worried. “No,” Wallace insists. “There was no reason then—”

Daniel tips his head toward the window and urges him, “Look.”

The arm Wallace has around Zoe's neck gives a spasm. He orders Bobby, “Open the blinds.”

Bobby does as instructed.

Wallace says, “Shit!”

And it's only then that Zoe sees the police cars all over the street.

A man with a flak jacket and a megaphone calls out, “Put down your weapon and let's start working on a peaceful resolution to this situation.”

Whether it was Charlotte pressing the alarm, or Milo Van Der Meer calling it in, the troops have been summoned.

“Shit!” Wallace says again. “Close the blinds!” Angrily, he shoves Zoe away from himself, so that she falls to the ground, dropping the bag of money. She skids on the smooth marble floor, and she ends up actually sliding into Daniel.

Go!
Daniel mouths at her again.

It pains her to abandon him, to have him
watch her
abandon him. Even though that's what he's telling her to do. Even though they both know she can't help these people now. Even though she knows
they'll
all be stuck with this if she dies. She puts her arms around herself. It's 1:38, with the second hand closing in on the final seconds of the minute. This story line is spiraling down into total disaster, and she only has one playback left. She tells herself,
I can't risk Daniel.
It isn't like it's clear what they should have done differently. There are too many variables. She needs to keep Daniel out of the bank. She would rather not have to sacrifice Charlotte. And Bobby. And the teller who was crying because Zoe was being taken hostage. Not to mention the baby stroller woman outside.

But she can't risk Daniel.

For her tenth try, she needs to let them die so he can live. Her voice shaking for the treachery of it, she says, “Playback.”

And.

Nothing.

Happens.

CHAPTER 13

T
HE MINUTE HAND OF THE CLOCK MOVES TO
1:39.

Now,
now
time is supposed to be up.

Unfair! Unfair! Unfair!

Zoe knows she counted the playbacks correctly. So all of a sudden the universe is changing the rules on her?

Daniel is looking at her quizzically. He whispers, so as not to alert Wallace, “Does it always happen like this? You jump to where you're going, but for the rest of us …?” He lets his voice drift off because she has very obviously not jumped anywhere.

Zoe lets her arms drop to her sides. “No,” she whispers back to him. “It didn't work.”

“OK,” he says. “What does that mean?”

“We must have taken more than twenty-three minutes.” She's working it out as she speaks. “
This
clock is set manually. It must be a minute off from the cell phones, which use a satellite and are all the same. We have to wait a full twenty-three minutes from now before I can do another playback.”

“To
here
?” Daniel's voice is louder than it should be. “Why would we want to come back to this?”

Which, of course, is the whole point.

One of the bank managers—Zoe thinks it's the one who, the time Bobby the guard was wounded, was tending him—goes, “Shhh!” at them.

Fortunately, Wallace has taken a time-out for a minor temper tantrum, so he hasn't noticed. He kicks over the display table with the deposit and withdrawal slips.

Zoe's breath catches, as Bobby's gun, which he had placed on the table, hits the ground …

… And slides on the highly polished floor, a fraction of a second too fast for Bobby to intercept, and into one of the managers' offices.

So, for good or bad, that's one weapon out of play. Daniel's is still on the low table with the coffee supplies. He can't reach it without getting up; Zoe can't reach it without going over Daniel.

And meanwhile …

“Hey!” Wallace has caught on that he has no time for irritability. At least not against inanimate objects. He kicks Daniel in the ribs. “Shut,” he commands, “up.” Then he says, “This changes nothing. Get up.” He tugs on Zoe's right arm, the one that belongs to the hand that's still clutching the meaningless folder. She's halfway between kneeling and standing when he tells her, “Put that down, and pick up the money.”

A plan—born of desperation and perhaps of watching a few too many action/adventure movies—begins to form in her mind. Zoe figures Wallace can only kill her once. Unless, of course, someone else in here has the playback ability—but, if someone does, she'll never know. In any case, she doesn't let go of her own papers but picks up Wallace's bag with her left hand. From the bottom. She gives the bag what she hopes is an imperceptible shake, and the stacks of bills begin to slide out through the opening.

“You stupid—” Wallace starts.

Just as Zoe flings her elbow into his stomach.

It's not that she's strong, but she
has
caught him unawares.

He lets go of her right arm and doubles over, just a bit. In a moment he will straighten up, and Zoe knows he will be very, very angry. But in
this
moment she goes for the one self-defense move she knows: She brings her knee up into his groin.

Only …

He takes a step back.

So she misses.

And her advantage of surprise is over that quickly. He strides forward and strikes her with the back of his hand—a lot harder than she had managed to hit him.

Already badly positioned, she falls over.

She has heard people refer to
seeing stars
after a blow to the head, and had assumed this was simply a convention in cartoons. But now she sees stars, and they're exploding. Also, the room is spinning. But even with all of that going on she knows exactly where she is, and she expects to fall on Daniel.

Except she doesn't.

He has rolled out of the way.

Not—she suddenly realizes—to avoid her, but to get at his gun.

She realizes this because Wallace has already come to the same conclusion. Wallace has dropped to his knees, and now he pulls Zoe in front of him, using her as a shield, his arm once more around her neck. “So help me, I will kill her,” he announces.

The stars from Zoe's vision clear, revealing Daniel on his knees also, his gun trained on Wallace behind her.

And she can feel Wallace's gun pressed against the side of her head.

Oh crap
, Zoe thinks. This is like a replay of the original time, only now it's
her
in the middle. It doesn't help to think about how
that first time ended.

Daniel asks, “What would killing her accomplish?”

“I don't want to,” Wallace claims, which is a relief to hear. Only he undermines this by adding, “But I don't want to
get
killed.”