Skyline (26 page)

“I’ve
gotten almost all of the orbs. No way this’ll head back to the Blast day.” He
clipped the wires. “So now …”

One
last orb remained inside—the one that would take the entire island through
time. “Where does it go?” Charlotte demanded. “Where did you send the Council
with your bomb?”

Ana
laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? I sent them to our ruined era. Where they’d never
be able to get out. I figured trapped in a ruin of their own making was pretty
poetic.” She circled closer, closer.

“How
do we disarm it?” Charlotte asked. There were only a few seconds remaining,
surely.

Ana
didn’t reply. Instead, Charlotte felt her bag yank away. Ana scrambled to get
her hands on it as Charlotte turned with wide eyes. If Ana took the astrolabe,
Charlotte and Bill would be the ones stranded.

“No!”
Charlotte yelled, a hand snagging the strap of her bag before Ana could fully
pull it away.

With
her free hand Ana slapped at Charlotte’s fingers, her arm, her face. But
Charlotte closed her eyes and simply placed her other hand on the strap,
pulling harder. Ana matched her strength, the bag dangling between them.

The
pressure was too much for Charlotte’s purse. It ripped along the seams, sending
her wallet, dozens of toys, and the orb sky-high.

“Charlotte!”
Bill called, still working on the bomb.

“She’s
going to …” Charlotte said, leaping toward the astrolabe. It tipped off her
hands, away from both of them, then rolled along the wet oyster bed and toward
the bay.

“The
bomb!” Bill reminded her.

Ana
jumped for Charlotte’s astrolabe.

Charlotte
jumped, too, but too late. Ana crashed onto the orb and twisted it on. “And the
winner, once again is—” She vanished.

Charlotte
landed hard in the muck, oyster shells pressing into her already wounded side.
Leaning up, she twisted to look at the bomb.

“I
couldn’t,” Bill said, his eyes wide. Goop trailed out, dumped on the earth, but
the main computer board still blinked with all wires detached. Ana’d made the
Blast unstoppable.

“It’s
okay,” Charlotte said. “It’s okay.” She pushed herself up and joined Bill,
watching the bomb without wincing. Any moment now it would erupt with light,
sweeping them through time to Ana’s wasteland age.

It
was
okay. Because Charlie was alive. Felix loved her, and Charlie had
him. For the first time in her life, Charlotte reconsidered her biological
parents. Had they known, somehow, that she and Monroe would be okay on their
own? Perhaps they’d had to leave them alone, just like she was leaving Charlie
now. What if they’d had reasons of their own, knowing that a better parent
would come along?

Because
Charlie would be okay. In Felix’s hands. With Monroe. Hell, maybe even with
Gilbert. The boy was safe, and now all her men had each other.

All
this time she’d been clinging hard or pushing them away. How much better to
just let them go?

The
island lit up in a blinding blast of light, and Charlotte felt calm.

Charlotte
and Bill never returned. Monroe stared at the place where they’d been when Ana
crashed into them. Trying to will them back. Trying to erase the look that
Charlotte had on her face when she took the astrolabe from him.

“Where
did they go?” the aging guard asked, eyes darting around. Had he missed their
disappearance entirely? But in a world without time travel, without sudden
appearances, the man must’ve blinked and assumed something else had happened.
He looked to his partner, but the younger guard shook his head, still squeezing
his nose. “Tell me”—the man gripped Monroe’s shoulder tightly—“where they are.”

Monroe
shrugged. “No idea.” And goddamn it. That was the truth.

But
this wouldn’t be Charlotte’s last act. Her “I love you’s” wouldn’t be her last
words. That wouldn’t be the last image of her that Monroe would be forced to
remember. And Monroe still needed time with Bill. If he was right, if Bill was
leaving, they didn’t have much time anyway. Monroe was going to get back as
much as he could.

“Then
I think it’s time for us to talk.” He yanked Monroe up by the armpit. “Your
friends are coming, too.” With his other hand, he grabbed Felix’s wrist.

“You
think a
five-year-old
is worth charging?”

The
guard shrugged. “I think his guardian might be.”

Monroe
tried to think of something else to say. Charlotte and Bill would be back at
any moment, and then they’d go. If the guards took them away, Charlotte would
be too late. If these guards called the police, then Felix, Charlie, and Monroe
would be truly trapped. Their names logged in the system.

Then
Monroe saw a bag lying on the ground, only a few feet away. Ana’s bag, bulging
with her astrolabe. “I’m coming with!” Monroe said as he twisted his arm from
the guard’s grip. “I just have to get what was stolen from us. I’ll explain
everything!” He jogged across, grabbed the bag, then came back to the guard,
lifting his free hand. “See? Cooperating.”

The
guard narrowed his eyes, his lips pursing. “What is that?”

“My
sister’s in technology; her prototype was stolen.” Amazing how easily the lies
came. “We tracked the thief here.”

“Right,”
the guard said. “In your very professional
tiger
shirt.”

Monroe
glanced down at his favorite embroidered shirt. He hadn’t even thought twice
about changing into it yesterday. “Er, I didn’t have time to change?”

Damn,
that
was true, too.

The
guard squeezed Monroe’s shoulder and pushed him out of the lobby, into a
hallway with yellowing paint. The man led from behind, pushing Monroe and
Felix—who still clung to Charlie’s hand—down a stairwell, then down a dank
underground corridor.

“They’re
coming back, right?” Felix asked through the side of his mouth.

“Yeah,”
Monroe said, trying to glance up the stairs. Bill had promised they’d return.
He never lied. But no one—not even Ana—ran down after them. “They have to.”

Charlie
shook his head. “That’s not how it works, Uncle ’Roe. Whenever Mom vanishes,
she reappears seconds later. Always.” God, Monroe had forgotten how much the
boy had traveled. Far more than Monroe had.

“Always?”
Felix repeated, his pleading eyes staring Monroe down as they walked.

Monroe’s
mouth was too dry for him to respond. He trusted that Charlie was right. Monroe
hadn’t traveled through time enough to know himself.

“Quiet
now,” the guard said, pushing open a door in the hallway and shoving Monroe,
Felix, and Charlie inside.

The
elder guard sniffed, carefully closing and locking all of them in. “Sit there,”
he said, pointing to the seats arranged along the wall. To the right of the
chairs, a small window showed back into the hallway.

The
man settled at a desk and began typing. With every glance to Monroe, Felix, and
Charlie, his frown deepened.

Felix
squeezed Monroe’s shoulder, then asked the guard, “Why are we here? We weren’t
involved in the fight. We don’t know where they went.”

“That
wasn’t you who knocked that blonde woman out?” The guard tutted. “Anyway, I
told you to be
quiet
. Unless you want to explain what’s really going on,
I’d suggest you keep your traps shut.”

While
the guard typed, Monroe pressed his hand inside Ana’s bag, ran his fingers
along the mesh that wrapped around the core of her device. With the guard
watching, he didn’t want to travel through time. But it was their only way out.
He’d have to use it sooner or later.

The
guard’s radio crackled to life. A voice shouted, “Ralph?” In the background
were more shouts, some other fight. Maybe Charlotte and Bill
had
come
back. “Oy, Ralph. Get out here. We have some questions about those people you
found.”

Ralph
pressed the walkie-talkie against his mustache. “Got ’em right here.”

“Here?”
the voice asked. “Fuck, Ralph, get outta earshot. Now.”

Ralph
cast them another dark look, but stood. “Stay here,” he said. “I’m locking you
in, so you don’t got much of a choice, but …” He pressed an open hand downward
like they were dogs. “Stay.”

The
door clicked after he left, and jiggled a bit as Ralph made sure it was
re-locked. His voice dwindled as he walked down the hall.

“What
was that?” Felix asked. “You think the Blast still went off?”

“If
it were the Blast, we’d be traveling through time,” Monroe said. “Or dead. It’s
gotta be a coincidence. Or it’s Charlotte and Bill. Either way, it’s a lucky
break.”

A
security camera perched in a corner watched their seats closely. Monroe stood
and scurried to the computer. There he deleted the guard’s typed words with an
elbow and drew himself as close to the walls as possible—just out of the
camera’s sight. “Come
on
,” he hissed, beckoning to Felix and Charlie.
Monroe had twice seen Ana use the astrolabe, so he tried to copy her insignia.
Only a couple tries later, lights glittered out through the mesh.

“You
know how to use it?” Felix asked, surprised, as he and Charlie clutched
Monroe’s arms.

“Not
really,” he replied, but as long as there was a date below, he’d be fine. But
when Monroe looked, all he saw were unfamiliar shapes, a string of symbols he
couldn’t read. As he twisted the lights, they changed, but that didn’t mean he
knew what year it was.

The
most important thing was that they’d be free.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

In
the dull,
uninspired security office under the Statue of Liberty, it was hard to tell how
much time passed. For split seconds, ghosts of security guards would come in
with juvenile delinquents. But aside from a new computer and replaced chairs,
nothing changed.

Until
the room was demolished and a grandiose ballroom filled in the basement of Fort
Wood. Sparkling chandeliers hung everywhere, the walls awash in ornate mirrors.
It felt like they’d stepped into the past, not the future. But as a tide of
ever-shifting tables and tuxedoed people swirled around, the mirrors flashed
with light; the chandeliers changed color. In one moment, the high ceiling was
replaced with glass and Lady Liberty was visible above, her torch a burning
luminescence, something to hold on to as time sped forward.

As
cracks split mirrors, wallpaper dulled, and chairs grew hefty cobwebs, time
slowed. Regardless of the age of this room, Lady Liberty still stood far above.

“Jesus
Christ
,” Felix said, massaging his temples and putting his head between
his knees. “What was that?”

“I
…” Monroe had overshot. Without the date below, he hadn’t been able to tell how
far he’d taken them. He hadn’t tracked his test swipes and twists to see how
fast the digits changed. They had to be hundreds of years in the future, maybe
more. “I fucked up,” he said.

Felix’s
eyes wide, his shoulders hunched, he didn’t look like the strong man who’d
fought Ana. Now he looked more like the little boy he’d raised. Though now that
Monroe looked, even Charlie was better composed. Holding himself straight,
gazing around with only interest—not worry. “But you can fix it,” Felix said.
“You can get us back, right?”

“I
don’t have a choice,” Monroe said. Though how he’d get them precisely home, he
wasn’t sure. Monroe dropped a hand to take Charlie’s. “Let’s get outta here
first. No point jumping back into that cell.”

They
exited the ballroom and entered a hallway with flickering screens spanning the
entire length of both walls. Above the screens, small versions of Lady Liberty
were placed on shelves leading all the way back. The floor was covered in dust.

Monroe
pushed through a set of double doors, and they entered a giant lobby, widened
from the one they’d fought in however many years ago. Now three torches filled
the interior: the old one Charlotte and Ana had rolled into, the one installed
before the Blast occurred, and a new one that Monroe recognized as a facsimile
of the currently installed torch. Around the room was a melting pot of people.
Some of their hair was colored vibrantly. Some of their clothes looked like
they belonged to farmers of the 1930s. Monroe pushed through the crowd,
clinging to Charlie, and led them outside onto a plaza.

“We
gotta get onto Manhattan,” Monroe said. “Find a newspaper seller, or whatever
passes for that in this time.”

Felix
pointed to a giant placard featuring an image of a boat and an enormous arrow.
They followed the symbols across Liberty Island until they found the dock,
enlarged from what it had been in the 2000s, and boarded a boat—it was
thankfully free, like the ferry of their time. Once onboard they found seats on
top, away from the noisy interior where most of the tourists stayed to drink.

After
a few more minutes, the boat pushed away and drifted across the Upper Bay. But
the soothing motion of the water didn’t relax Monroe. Across from them,
hundreds of unrecognizable buildings towered. Walkways connected dozens of the
tallest skyscrapers; the city had become a spiderweb. It was possible that the
New York Monroe knew was still there, buried. One World Trade, the Empire State
Building, the Chrysler Building could all still stand, but they weren’t
visible.

For
the first time, Monroe didn’t belong in his city.

“I’m
sorry,” he told the wind. “I’m so sorry.”

So
much had happened so fast.

Ana
had crashed into Charlotte as she spun through time—and then the three of them
vanished. What then? Charlotte would’ve fought Ana. Bill would’ve focused on
the bomb, maybe enlisted Charlotte if she had a chance. And Ana … There was no
way she would risk getting sucked through time. So with Charlotte and Bill
focused on defusing or discarding the bomb, she would’ve stolen Charlotte’s
astrolabe.

She
could’ve gotten away easily while they struggled to defuse her most complicated
bomb. Whatever emergency the guard had run for, it wouldn’t be Monroe’s sister
or boyfriend. It would’ve been Ana, returning too late to get her astrolabe.

That
meant that either Charlotte and Bill were trapped on Liberty Island in the past
or—if the bomb had gone off—they’d been swept through time. And without
Charlotte’s astrolabe, wherever they were, they were stuck.

Monroe
had two choices: he could either let their sacrifice be worth it, let them die
in some other time. Or he could keep using Ana’s device. Get the hang of it.
Help them. First he had to get Felix and Charlie safe, get them back home. Then
he’d deal with Ana.

“Uncle
’Roe.” Charlie tugged on Monroe’s sleeve. “We’re here.”

The
boat had come to a stop at Battery Park. What had been a grassy area once was
now filled with dozens of bright buildings, ready to entice tourists. They
exited the boat and walked along the shoreline, passing a dazzling aquarium
whose building extended below the Upper Bay’s waves. Past the aquarium, along
the southern tip of Manhattan, the crowd dwindled. Only a few businessmen
strolled by, wholly focused on conversations to no one. A screen on a nearby
shop had the time and date scrolling along with some news.

Five
hundred years in the future.

Wasn’t
this what he wanted? Didn’t this prove that he’d been right? Charlotte could’ve
sent him to the future. He could’ve researched from here. Maybe he could’ve
found out exactly how to stop the Blast without putting anyone in danger.

None
of that mattered.

All
he felt was dread.

“You
can do this,” Felix said. His voice grew as he encouraged, “You’re smart, just
like her.”

Monroe
felt a twinge of guilt for all the times he’d asked Charlotte whether she and
Felix were compatible. “Well,” he said, “just so long as you don’t mind a tour
through New York’s future.” He needed to stay focused. Otherwise he’d get
daunted by everything he had to do.

After
a slight spin, several buildings around them deconstructed. Battery Park glowed
in the distance. The buildings that remained still had interconnecting
walkways. They reached up taller than anything from Monroe’s time. The store
nearby was gone, but they were clearly still in the future.