A Quill Ladder (51 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Ellis

BOOK: A Quill Ladder
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Carefully, they spaced themselves out on the first ladder and then passed the second ladder along. Caleb set the base of the second ladder at the end of the first, and with Ian walking it forward, they stood it up on end, then let it fall forward, extending the

bridge.

Then, one by one, they crossed, trying to walk on the edges and rungs, to not sink into the steaming mud below them, the quills displacing their weight and keeping them afloat. Farley was a bit confused at first, but after several forays into the hot sludge

and growls at Ian

s rat, who had poked his head out to survey the proceedings

he managed to navigate the rungs quite effectively.

At last everyone safely made it across, and they gathered around the Madrona, which rested on solid ground. Sure enough, a set of stones trailed off into the swamp on the other side of the tree, pulsing with energy.


I need to go first,

Caleb said.

It

s my future that we need to go to.


Just remember,

Abbey called,

gravity is lower in that future. Don

t leap into the air and end up in the swamp.

Caleb gave her a little salute, stepped onto the stones, and vanished. Ian followed, then Mark. Abbey took a deep breath. They were so sure that this different set of stones would take them to where they wanted to go

but what if they didn

t? What if this set thrust them into a different future, or a different world? Or what if they hit on one of the exceptions to the time periods flowing along interlinked and ended up in Caleb

s original future?

Abbey

s phone barked.

<
Twin paradox
> the text from her dad read. Relief washed over her. He was okay. Then a second text appeared.

<
I have to take care of something. I may not be home for a while. Please tell me you are okay and at home.
>

Abbey stared at the text. The others would be waiting for her. What was he taking care of?

<
We are ok. I love you.
>

She hit send.

Then she stepped on the stones.

She felt the familiar
whoosh
and movement, and seconds later she decelerated. She was pushed off the stones to find Caleb and Ian gaping at a flat expanse of dried, cracked mud, bordered by brown grass. Apparently she needn

t have worried about anyone falling in the swamp. The trees had receded, and only the Madrona remained, growing up out of the mud, but its leaves hung limp and many of them were covered in black speckles. Big black patches occupied the trunk. Abbey almost had to look away.


What

s wrong with the Madrona?

she whispered.

Ian shook his head.

Maybe the fire caused long-term damage to the soil. We better push on. If the state of that tree is any indication, this portal might not be open for long.

They made their way across the caked mud. Abbey did feel lighter, and took a few experimental jumps. She flew higher into the air than she would have at home, but the landing, as she had expected, was soft, and there didn

t seem to be any risk of injury. She could see the others doing the same. She couldn

t figure out why anyone would be worried about people getting injured from walking on the dirt.

There was no sign of the ladders, but it didn

t matter

the ground easily supported their weight. Abbey shielded her eyes from the white sun that cast the sky in an oddly paler blue. The barren state of the trees suggested that it was winter here, too, but the temperature was far warmer than it had been in the Coventry they had just left.

Out in the former parking lot, they could see the row of houses across the street, abandoned and in a state of serious decay. The old road was rutted with cracks and potholes. But they could see the causeway set into Coventry Hill in the distance, and the city with rounded underground houses beneath it.


Looks like we

re in the right place,

Caleb said. Mark had already withdrawn a piece of paper from his satchel and was furiously sketching on it.


So now what?

Abbey said.

Do we walk? It looks like a long way.

Ian shook his head.

We used to have a pretty decent system of underground transport in my day. Not sure if it

ll still work, but it

s worth a shot.

Aided by the light from Mark

s flashlight, Ian led them down a rickety set of stairs into the basement of the now decrepit yellow house that had been his childhood home. He stopped in front of an old door in the basement wall

it looked to Abbey like the door to a coal room or root cellar. Above the lock on the door was a small pentagon.

Ian withdrew his lighter, quickly disassembled it, then reassembled it into a key. He stuck it in the lock and turned.

After a few pulls, the door swung open on creaky hinges, revealing a damp-smelling tunnel leading into a deep blackness. Mark

s flashlight cast a faint white beam into the shadows.


Um, not sure I see the advantage of going the underground route,

Caleb said.

Isn

t it the same distance? Won

t we just be sitting ducks if someone decides to follow us? Why don

t we just take the road?


Because,

Ian said, hustling into the tunnel,

it

s illegal to go off the paved roads, and none of us have jumpsuits.

He held his hand up in some sort of stop gesture.

Don

t even start. There

s some crazy rules in this future

one might want to have a look into who

s running the joint. But not right now. Anyway, we don

t need to call attention to ourselves, and this is
our
side

s tunnel. They have their own tunnels, and they don

t have the key to this one. We split the tunnels years ago, under the Convention of 1876. And as for the distance

I have this!

He pulled a canvas tarp off of a golf-cart-sized trolley.

You never know when you

re going to need transportation. We used to use this one just to go to town and get groceries when I was a kid.

Abbey scrunched up her eyebrows.

But how does it run?

Ian pointed to a track that ran down the length of the tunnel.

It

s a cable system like the one in San Francisco. The cable is in the ground under the track

we just grip on and go. My dad installed it into the longer stretches of our tunnels. There

s a central engine room under the city that runs all the cables.


But why would it still be running?


I visited the engine room a month ago and made a few mechanical adjustments, including upgrading the energy source to modern technology. If you just flick that lever on the wall there, it should start the cable.


Didn

t you say the tunnels were rat-filled?

Abbey peered into the gloom.


That was for the benefit of whoever that man was, and besides
…”
Ian winked.

I like rats.

Caleb pulled the lever, and they all climbed in. The trolley, as promised, set off at a brisk pace down the tunnel, Mark

s flashlight illuminating the river rock walls.

They drove through the tunnel for almost an hour in a straight line. Mark had withdrawn a small compass from his satchel and made notations on a piece of paper in the dim half-light of the flashlight, which he had been requested to keep trained on the tunnel ahead. Salami and turkey cranberry sandwiches were retrieved from the backpack, and they all ate, including Farley and Digby, while Ian continued to drive.

When they came to another door, Ian stopped the trolley and they all alighted.

Ian pulled the lever to stop the cable, then unlocked the door that led from the tunnel. They emerged into a small, dimly lit, but finished basement with rows and rows of shelves filled with boxes and plastic containers. A pharmacy, Abbey decided. The basement was empty, but they could hear footsteps overhead.


This is going to be the tricky part,

Ian murmured.

I

m not sure if the new owners are still part of the council. We should try to be as unobtrusive as possible, and we may need to make ourselves scarce, quickly.

Abbey wound Farley

s leash around her hand as tightly as possible, and they inched up the stairs in single file. Ian cracked the door a little; they were at the back of a small shop with a single counter and a few rows of wares. Abbey could see a small set of stairs leading up to the street. The shop, as with most of the shops in this Coventry of the future, was below street level, although this one didn

t seem quite as subterranean as some. A dark-haired woman in a white coat and a navy jumpsuit bent over a tablet at the counter. There was absolutely no way they could sneak past her without being seen.

Ian closed the door silently and turned back to them.

I suggest we run.


Creative,

Caleb muttered.

I

m sure she won

t notice the dog in her store.


I

ll take suggestions,

Ian said.


I

ll talk to her. You sneak out.

Caleb opened the door, donned a broad smile, and walked over to the woman with his hand outstretched. Ian closed the door.

They heard Caleb

s footsteps on the wooden floor, and then his voice.

Sorry to disturb you, ma

am, but the battery for my phone fell out and rolled under your counter. I was wondering if you would mind if I looked for it on this side.

This was followed by silence, and Abbey prepared to burst out of the door at a run, either to help Caleb or to bolt out the door. She wasn

t completely sure which.

Then came the woman

s voice.

Caleb? Caleb Sinclair?


Have we met?


Have I aged that much?

the woman said.


Not in the slightest,

Caleb said.

You look stunning today
…”
Then there was a long pause and an almost strangled quality to his voice.

Anna?


Bingo. Well. I can only assume that you

re involved in some of the stuff that Russell got into. I know this was one of the listed properties. I bought it hoping that Russell would show up here one day. But no such luck. Are you working with him? Do you know what he

s doing?


No, no. I

m not. I don

t know what he

s doing.

Caleb sounded truly shaken, as if he had seen a ghost.


But you
are
Caleb? And you are the
past
Caleb?

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