Saving Yesterday (TimeShifters Book 1) (13 page)

Save me. Hide me. Save me. Hide me.
The words pound in my mind. Steady and repetitive. Like the soles of a runner’s shoes slapping concrete.

The man is less than three feet from me. I can make out his sharp nose and square jaw. Any hope I had tailspins into the ground. Surely if I can see him, the opposite is true too. His head swings my way, his vision bounces over me, and he turns and strolls out the door.

For a few moments I stay in my hiding place, stunned. He’s gone. Just like that? Finally I ease away from the wall and stumble a few feet into the open area, away from the shelving units. Sucking in a deep gulp of cool air, I run my fingers over my ribs. I decide to duck behind something for another twenty minutes or so, let the place clear of people searching, and then head back to hunt for the missing note.

Before I can move, a firm hand clamps down on my shoulders. A ring on one of the person’s fingers bites into my skin. I spin around, expecting the worst.

And find it.

Donovan shakes his head a few times. Almost as if he’s disappointed in me. “What are you doing away from the residential wing?”

Either he materialized out of thin air, or he’s been here the whole time. Waiting. Watching me. Both options are equally creepy.

The expression on his face is so fierce, I have to look away. I choose to examine the toes of my shoes. “I ... um ... I.”

His hold on my shoulder tightens. “Are you hurt? Did you need to speak to someone?”

I shuffle my feet. Allow my gaze to flicker back up at him and find an odd softness in his eyes. Concern? Pity?

More like a ploy.

Donovan is not on my short list of trusted people. Nor do I expect to ever find him there. Even still, my tongue comes unglued. Michael warned me the Elders would be watching me. In fact, it’s silly to think they don’t know about the note already. I might as well not get lying added to my growing record of grievances. I open my mouth to speak, but Donovan glances at something behind me.

Lark steps into my line of vision. Hands propped on her hips. “Man alive. You’re really terrible at this, Gabby.”

So, she helps her daddy hunt down errant Shifters. Pulling out my mental tally book, I place Lark in the traitor category. What’s her problem? I want to see her slip and fall into a dumpster full of fish eyes. Seriously.

Donovan lifts his hand from me and crosses his arms. “What’s this?”

She giggles. “Nothing to worry about. I’ve been helping with Gabby’s training. And, as you can see yourself, she’s failing both the stealth and snooping exercises. It’s been pretty abysmal. But she’ll get there, I promise.”

I frown. Her words make no sense. Why is Lark covering for me? What does she stand to gain by lying to her father?

Donovan looks back and forth between the two of us. “I didn’t see a note in the training log about a night session.”

“Oh! Sorry, Dad. I completely forgot. Besides, I figured no one would question me.” She bats her eyes. Playing up the daddy’s little princess bit.

His lips tug with the lightest smile. “Yes, I always say you are the best we have on the field. If anyone can get her into shape, it’s you.”

So they’re talking like I’m not here. Lovely. Know what? At the moment, that is perfectly fine with me.

Lark pats Donovan’s arm. “Everyone knows that’s because I learned from the best.”

Finally, his stance relaxes. “All right, you girls head back to your rooms. You sent my entire security team on a mad goose hunt. Training’s over for now. Promise to fill out the proper paperwork from now on and we’ll forget this happened.”

We both nod in unison.

Donovan lays a hand on top of Lark’s head. “I have to go call off the patrol. They’ve all been on edge with the changes and worried in case….” His eyes skirt quickly to me and then away. “If the Shades find a way inside, I don’t know what we’ll do.”

I locate my voice. “Nicholas will protect Keleusma. Won’t he?”

Lark’s father tilts his head, considering me before he answers. “In theory. But there’s always a chance that we can get in the way of what he’s trying to do.” With that, he wishes us sweet dreams and leaves. His shoes don’t make a sound as he strolls away.

For the space of a few heartbeats, I stare after him. He’s not so terrifying when he’s not sitting behind the table with the rest of the Elders. Alone with his daughter, he’s just another normal dad. The exchange has thrown me off kilter. I don’t like it. I want to be able to place these Shifters in one of two groups. Trustworthy or evil. In-between ground only makes things more confusing.

Beyond that, the last five minutes shoot a pang of longing through my chest. How is my dad holding up? Does he miss me? Worry late into the night? Will my homecoming soften the lines around his lips too? Or has he drunk himself into oblivion?

I turn back to Lark. “So why stick up for me?” Even as I say the words, I already know the answer. Where’s my eraser? Lark’s name needs to make a pilgrimage to my Good People list.

“Like I said before, I don’t always think he’s right about everything.”

“Your dad is a pretty intense guy.”

She shrugs. “He’s been through a lot.”

“Still. If you get caught…”

“Don’t worry about me. Anyway, Michael made me promise to take care of you.”

My betrayal of Michael seizes like poison in my body. Guilt clings to every thought. “He gave me something ... something that wouldn’t be good for anyone else to see, and I lost it. That’s why I’m out here. I need to find it.”

Her eyebrows rise. Questioning.

“I left a note in one of my pockets and now it’s gone from my room. If it’s found, I think it could cause a lot of trouble for Michael.”

“Listen, my dad called off the patrol, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be people out.” She grabs my arm. “Let’s get you back to your room, then I’ll go find this note.”

I wrench away. “Not happening. I made this mess. I should be the one to clean it up.”

Lake pulls me up short. “Okay, we need to get something straight. When it comes to you, my dad is right about one thing. You are stubborn and headstrong and dangerous.”

Um, that’s
three
things. “Then I’ll just go by myself—”

She blocks my progress. “Oh, no you don’t. You’ll hear me out is what you’ll do. Know why there is more than one Shifter, Gabby? Because we need each other. We depend on one another to get things done. Once you’re a Shifter, there’s no going it alone. We take care of each other. I’m sorry about whatever went on in your time that made you hate everyone, but you need to learn there are more people than just you who are capable of managing things.”

“I don’t hate everyone,” I mumble, but my fight is gone.

She thumps her chest. “I know where the laundry is. I know the system and will be able to find the note within seconds. If you’re with me, you’re a liability. Plain and simple. Besides, how do you expect me to explain why you’re wandering around after my dad told us to go back to our rooms? If someone finds me alone, they won’t question it.”

  I’m tired. And know what? It might be nice to let someone else bear the load for once. In silence, we walk back to my room. She promises to be back in less than a half hour.

I shower and change into comfy clothes. Braid and unbraid my hair. Bite my nails. Drum my feet on the side of the couch.

It’s the longest half hour of my life.

Lark’s smiling when she saunters back through my door. From her pocket she pulls the note and extends it toward me.

I snatch it. “Did you read it?”

“No. Whatever it is, it’s between you and Michael. I didn’t even unfold the thing.”

“Thanks.” I hold the note up. “And sorry. I should have trusted you.” I fold my fingers over the paper. The corners pinch into my flesh, working like a balm to my nerves. Michael’s safe.  

She makes a move to leave, but I want to ask her something. I thought to voice my question to Michael, but then he said he hasn’t been home since his first shift.

I clear my throat. “Do you ever go home? You know, to your original time.”

“Of course.” Slouching onto my bed, she sighs. “I’m back with Eddie a couple times a year.”

“How do you do it?”

She trails a finger over the wild pattern on my comforter. “You shift to whoever needs you most in that moment. Sometimes it’s your Pairing who needs you. In the next year or so, Eddie and I will get married. When that happens, I won’t shift again for a couple years. Eddie will need me too much. And when I have a kid, then, for the first year or two, my child will need me most. After that, I’ll shift again, seeing them occasionally as Eddie raises our child.”

“That’s horrible,” I whisper.

She doesn’t meet my eyes. “It’s the way things are.”

“Don’t you want to stay with Eddie?” I take a step closer.

“Sure. But I also know how important shifting is. Eddie knows that too. We both understand the roles we play.”

A canary of hope sings in my soul. If what Lark’s saying is true, then I don’t need to worry about my mother any longer. The hints dropped about her can’t be true. What I believe has always been right. “That’s how I know she’s dead.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah, I mean, that’s the only thing that makes sense. If she was still alive, she would have come home. My dad needs her.”

Lark rises, turns her back on me. “Maybe.”

The rigid set of her shoulders kills my little canary instantly. “Wh-what do you know about my mother?”

“Gabby, it’s late. I have to be up early.” Still with her back to me, Lark moves toward the door.

“Please. I’ve seen pictures of her my whole life, but I know nothing about her. She’s like this ghost I can’t shake. If I just knew something—anything. You don’t know how lucky you are. You might not agree with your dad, but at least you have a relationship,” my voice is low, but it stops her.

She lets loose a long sigh. “I honestly don’t know much. People don’t tell me things because of my dad’s position. I’ve been sheltered from most things here.”

“But you know something?”

“Just whispers.” She rubs her hands over her arms as if she’s cold. “But it’s not good stuff. You’d be better off not hearing it. Sometimes ignorance is better.”

“Did she die?”

“I’m not sure. But I do know she disgraced the Shifters, and they’re afraid you will too. That’s why people are wary of you. It’s wrong. I understand that more than anyone. A person shouldn’t be judged by their parent’s mistakes.”

That’s all she’s been told. It’s clear in her eyes. She’s done, spent.

After Lark leaves, I shut off the lights and lie on top of my bed sheets. Heavy fog descends upon my brain. I want to lie here and never get back up. I want an old dog-eared book to read, a warm blanket, and someone to rub circles over my back. My stomach aches like I swallowed ten pounds of lead.

In the almost dark, I stare vacantly at the ceiling fan, trying to single out a blade to follow. But nothing chases my thoughts away.
Disgrace.
The word will haunt me. Howl and accuse me when I’m all alone. My throat feels itchy.

Was my mom a traitor?

Or was she—like me—just trying to get home?

Green? Yellow? Or orange?

I press my lips together. Loud ticks sound from the timer on the metal device. Letting me know another second of my life is gone. Like sand through my hands—wasted. Makes me think about the things I’ll change if I get the chance. Hug Dad more often. Find more opportunities to laugh with my friends. Not freak out about little things.

The pointy wire cutters tremble in my hand. Lark’s shadow looms behind me and her foot taps out a steady beat of annoyance. Why doesn’t she just take over? Save the day and all that. The tyrant gene must run too strongly through her veins. Watch the little guy squirm for entertainment. Oh, joy.

Focus. Don’t be bested by a machine. Okay, this has to be logical. I examine the three tense wires again. Let’s get all symbolical. Green is the color of life, plants, and vitality. Yellow makes me think about long summer days spent basking by the lake and happiness. Then there’s the orange. Nothing is orange besides construction cones, fire, and, well, oranges.

Red digital numbers tell me I have less than a minute. A bead of sweat trickles down my neck.

“All your people are going to die,” Lark snaps.

I work my bottom lip between my teeth. Life, happiness, or construction? Yikes, the world has come to this.

A heartbeat later, I snip the orange. The timer stops. I shove damp bangs from my forehead and smirk at the evil contraption. Then there’s a hissing sound and the one-foot metal box explodes. The force lands me on my back. I close my eyes. Tossing my arms over my head, I wait for the sear of pain.

The room falls quiet.

Well, if you don’t count the snort Lark lets loose. “Great. You know you have to clean all this up before lunch.”

I open my eyes.  Tiny paper pieces float all around me like a ticker tape parade. They carpet me and the floor. I take my first real breath. “It’s just confetti.”

“Did you really think we’d use a
real
bomb for training?” She offers her hand.