Time Snatchers (37 page)

Then I turn to Zach, take his arm and say, “Come on.”

I start leading Zach away but don’t get more than two feet before rough hands grab me.

“Nice try,” says Frank. “Why don’t we leave it for Uncle to decide where he wants to see you?”

The two instructors gripping my arms turn me around and march me forward.

We arrive at the entrance to the elevator. The doors slide open.

I hesitate at the threshold. Frank pushes me forward. There are scuffling sounds and then someone crashes into me. Zach.

The elevator doors close. I wonder for a moment why Frank didn’t get on with us. Maybe the partial memory wipe worked after all. If Frank remembered about me and Zach, then for sure he
wouldn’t want to let Zach out of his sight. Then it comes to me. He doesn’t have to worry about that. Because in twenty seconds, the elevator will arrive at its one and only stop: Uncle’s office.

The elevator is completely bare except for a speaker in the ceiling from which music begins to play. Somber classical music. Funeral music.

The next moment, I hear a whirring above the music.

We’re going up.

My heart’s racing. Zach’s trembling on the floor in the corner, knees curled up to his chest.

“Caylid? I want to go home!” he cries.

“That’s where I’m taking you, Zach,” I say. But my words come out hollow. The truth is, I’m all out of ideas for how to save him. And all out of courage. My legs feel weak, and I hold a hand against the wall to steady myself.

The elevator stops, and the doors begin to open. Zach doesn’t move from his corner. I take a deep breath.

The attack comes swift and silent as always.

“Seven letters. A towering fear!” says a voice.

So Uncle hasn’t gotten rid of Nassim yet. I try to maneuver, but it’s impossible. Before I know it, I’m facedown on the floor next to Zach with one arm pinned behind my back.

“Vertigo,” I say through clenched teeth.

Instantly I’m released. Nassim takes half a step back, one foot inside the elevator and one outside.

“How did you escape from the Barrens?” he asks.

“Lucky, I guess,” I grunt, standing up and massaging my arm.

“And who’s this?” Nassim’s eyes flick to Zach.

“His name is Zach Rushton,” I say. “He doesn’t belong here, Nassim. I’m taking him home.”

At this Nassim laughs. “This is home for him, Caleb. Just as it’s home for you. And for me.”

“Well, maybe for me. But not for him. And certainly not for you … much longer,” I blurt out.

Nassim leans in close. So close that I can see a small chip in one of his front teeth. “What do you mean, ‘not for me’?” he asks.

I take a deep breath to steady myself before answering. “Uncle purged your file.”

He narrows his eyes to slits. “Are you certain? How do you know?”

I keep my eyes locked on his. “I was there when he did it.”

Nassim’s face is a mask. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling right now. But I know what he’s thinking. No more file means his debt is wiped clean. And since he doesn’t owe anything to Uncle anymore, technically he’s free to leave.

“Uncle’s about to get rid of you, Nassim … forever,” I say.

Was that a flicker of emotion in his eyes?

I hear Zach whimpering quietly behind me and take his hand.

I try mindlinking Abbie again. Still no connection. My eyes flash to my fingernail. Twelve minutes since I left her. Surely she’s not answering because she stuck to our plan and went to 1967. My mind refuses to accept any other explanation.

“Nassim, I’ve got to go now,” I say. “I’m taking Zach with me. If you’d like, you can come with us. But please … don’t try to stop us.”

Truthfully, I have absolutely nowhere to go. Unless you count going back down the elevator to face Frank.

Just then, a shadow appears across the threshold.

I follow the shadow to a figure robed in a yellow
hanfu
, holding a gleaming sword.

“
Zaˇo Sháng haˇo
, Caleb!”

D
id you two enjoy your ride on my elevator?” asks Uncle.

I hear his words, and amazingly, my brain is telling me that they are only words and words can’t hurt me unless I let them. And at the same time, something else is happening inside of me. The familiar fear, the cold, white, paralyzing fear of Uncle is changing somehow. Transforming into something hard and strong.

“Why don’t you stay awhile,” he continues, “and tell us all about how you managed to escape from the Barrens. I am certain that we will all find it most entertaining. In fact, I will make you a bargain, Caleb. If I find your story amusing, I will spare the boy and send him home. If I don’t, he will stay here and resume his … training.”

“No.” My voice is even and strong. I tighten my grip on Zach’s hand.

For a split second, Uncle’s perfect control breaks and there’s a glint of anger in his eyes. But then his face returns to an expression of calm. “Nassim, will you kindly escort them from the elevator,” he orders.

“He has no power over you anymore, Nassim,” I say, glaring at Uncle. “You don’t have to listen to him.”

For a moment all is silent. Nassim doesn’t budge.

“Nassim,” Uncle repeats, holding my gaze, “I said bring them to me!”

But Nassim makes no move. He just continues to stand there.

My eyes stay locked on Uncle’s. I feel my lower lip begin to quiver. But I dare not look away.

“Do you realize what you are doing, Caleb?” he asks.

“Yes, I do,” I say. “I’m doing what’s right.”

“You owe everything to me,” he thunders. “If not for me, you would have died a child in the streets. I took you in and raised you as my very own, fed you and clothed you and taught you about the world. Do you remember our trips to the zoo and to the world’s great museums and art galleries?”

No. He’s trying to trick me. I have to stay strong.

“And do you remember,” continues Uncle, “the toy soldier that you wanted more than anything else in the world and that I, your Uncle, acquired for you?”

“I don’t owe you anything anymore,” I say.

He flashes his eyes at me and then turns his glance to Nassim. “Nassim, I am your master. The penalty for disobedience is death.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nassim reaching for the elevator buttons.

“You will bring them to me now!” Uncle’s voice is shrill. He raises his sword.

I dive for the floor, pulling Zach down with me, and shut my eyes tight just as blue light explodes from the tip of the sword. There’s a burning smell. Someone cries out and the doors close.

Opening my eyes, I spy Nassim crumpled next to Zach. The elevator is going down. In twenty seconds we’ll arrive at the Yard … and Frank.

Nassim is holding his shoulder. Blood seeps between his fingers and drips down onto the steel floor. Viennese waltz music plays in the background.

“Give me your hand, Nassim!” I shout over the music.

Either he doesn’t hear me or is in too much pain to do anything about it. I grab his massive right hand and turn it palm up. I’ve never programmed someone else’s patch before, but I hear Abbie’s voice inside me.
Don’t think, Caleb. Just do
. Is she mindspeaking, or am I just remembering?

I rest his arm on my knees and go to work. Then the music changes to marching music. Blaring loud.

Eight seconds left.

Must continue keying in the sequence. Nassim’s wrist is cold to the touch. His breathing is ragged.

From a tiny heap in the corner comes the sound of whimpers. I reach out, grab Zach’s arm and pull him towards me.

Three seconds until we reach the ground floor.

I close my eyes. Come on. Come on. Why isn’t it working?

The music is reaching a crescendo. I want to cover my ears, but I’ve got to keep my grip on Nassim and Zach.

The elevator jerks to a stop. My heart is beating wildly. What’s going on? We haven’t reached the bottom yet.

A second later I have my answer. We begin to move again.

No! It’s going up!

Holding Nassim’s wrist up to eye level, with shaking hands I reenter the sequence.

Nothing happens.

Blocked! Something’s blocking it. Then I remember—the cast-iron walls. Just like at Headquarters. They must be interfering with the sequencing!

Got to keep trying. I enter the sequence for the third time.

Still nothing.

A bead of sweat rolls off my forehead. I glance at the speaker on
the ceiling. There’s another burst of music. Anywhere else it would be beautiful. But here it feels like a noose drawn around my neck. Squeezing me tighter with every note. I want to smash it.

Ten seconds to go before we reach Uncle’s office.

Ten seconds to save Zach’s life and mine.

Time enough for one more try. But what if it still doesn’t work?
Don’t think, just do!

I take Zach’s small wrist in my hand.

Quickly. Tap, tap, tap on Nassim’s wrist. Now grip it tightly with my other hand. Wrist to wrist to wrist. Don’t let go!

Eyes closed and praying.

Three seconds later, the elevator arrives at Uncle’s office. The doors slide open.

But no one is inside.

I
take a deep breath and open one eye. It’s dark, and I can’t see much of anything. I sniff the air and inhale the smell of plastic. I open the other eye. Light is filtering into the tunnel. Because that’s where I am … some sort of plastic tunnel.

“Zach?” I call out.

No answer.

“Nassim?” I shout.

Still nothing.

I tip forward on my hands and knees, and the tunnel takes a sudden dip. I lose my grip and begin to slide. Downward I go, headfirst, picking up speed with every second.

I try to reach for the walls to break my speed, but my arms won’t obey me. I’m about to try the same move with my legs, but just then my body shoots out of the tunnel.

I land in a heap.

Raindrops on my forehead. And then a hand on mine, gently placing a piece of paper against my palm and curling my fingers around it. I squint through the blackness but the person is gone.

My eyes begin to adjust to the night. To my left I can make out a seesaw and a set of monkey bars. To my right, a sandbox. And straight across from me, a set of swings.

Zach lies on the ground two feet away. I want to reach out to him, but I can’t—I’m still time frozen.

There’s no sign of Nassim.

A second later, I come out of my time freeze and crawl over to Zach.

He’s not moving.

“Zach!” I shout.

Panic seizes me. What if the timeleap killed him? I’ve never heard of that happening before, but if it had, Uncle wouldn’t have advertised it.

I try to remember my first aid training from the early days but draw a big blank. And then, just as I’m about to really lose it, I see Zach’s left foot twitch.

Come on.

His right foot follows suit. Then his legs move slightly and his hands unclench.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Caylid?” says Zach, opening his eyes, and I’ve never been more happy in my life to hear my name mispronounced.

“I’m right here, Zach.”

Zach sits up slowly and looks around, wide-eyed. “We’re here! This is the park! My house is there.” He points past a grassy area toward a row of porch lights and starts pulling my arm.

“Just a second,” I say, remembering the piece of paper.

I unfold it and strain to read in the dark:

As I refold the note, I get a whiff of mango. Then I think about the PS and laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Zach asks.

“Do you remember Nassim, the big man who came with us?”

“Yes.”

“He wanted us to know he’s ‘off to the races.’”

“What’s so funny about that?” asks Zach.