Time's Divide (The Chronos Files Book 3) (49 page)

She clearly cracks herself up, because it’s a good ten seconds before she catches her breath long enough to speak. When she finally sobers, she looks at Conwell and shakes her head sadly. “You’re picking the wrong team, Patrick. Your father would be sad.”

“Get the hell out, Pru.” Simon glares in her direction. “Go back to the Farm, and I’ll leave you be. Go ride your stupid horse. Listen to your crappy mix tape, and leave the business to the people who still have brains enough to manage it.”

Pru takes two menacing steps toward Simon, and then everything happens at once. Simon whips the strange gun toward her. Behind me, I feel something move quickly across the back of my hair. Conwell makes a gurgling sound, and something warm and wet gushes against my back. Then someone yanks me up and over Conwell’s body.

I hear the
thwommp
sound I heard earlier, but it’s louder this time. Longer.

The bloody knife clatters from Kiernan’s hand, and he whips his rifle upward, pointing it toward the library, where Simon is still sitting on the floor.

Beyond Simon, Connor and Prudence are sprawled on the ground, so Simon’s PEP gun must have hit both of them. The container of keys was open, and deactivated medallions are scattered across the carpet.

Connor’s fingers rest on the very edge of the only bright blue key. I try to push through, but Kiernan blocks the doorway.

“Kiernan, I have to—”

“Not yet, Kate.”

“Maybe they’re just stunned, like Conwell was?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “The weapon has different settings.”

“You’re helping her?” Simon stares at Kiernan, mouth open, eyes wounded. “But why?”

Simon still has the gun, or whatever the thing is, pointed in our general direction, although I’m not sure he’s even aware he’s holding it. “I kept her safe for you, man! Just like I promised.”

“Drop the weapon, Simon.”

“She’s with June at the Farm. The baby’s fine, too. I’ll give you the coordinates. I’ll show you.”

Kiernan’s jaw is clenched tight. “She’d never have been in any danger in the first place if it wasn’t for you and Saul and this whole Cyrist insanity.” Kiernan turns slightly toward me and whispers. “Go, Kate. Get the vials to Estero.”

But I’m rooted to the spot, staring at the scene in the other room, looking for any sign that Connor is still alive. And yes, Prudence, too. I’m never going to feel all warm and fuzzy about my aunt, but I don’t want her dead.

Simon keeps talking, shaking his head slowly as he looks at Kiernan. “You saw the same things I did, Kier. People don’t stop. Saul was wrong about a lot, but he was right about that. The world needs a fresh start. A guiding hand, not a haphazard, half-assed evolution.”

“A guiding hand with that much blood on it isn’t a fresh start, Simon. I told you that years ago.”

“Yeah, but then you . . . Christ! I thought you’d
finally
grown up. Gotten a clue how the world really works. But . . .” Simon’s voice is strained, almost like he’s on the brink of tears. “It’s her, isn’t it? What is it with you? I saved
your
Kate. The one you claim to love. So what are you doing with the spare? She wouldn’t even exist if Pru had—”

I didn’t realize Kiernan’s hand had relaxed on the rifle, but it must have, because now he yanks it back up. “She’s not a bloody
spare
, Simon! There are . . . no . . . spares! People aren’t expendable.”

Simon is silent for a moment and then says, “You sure about that? Because the way you’ve got that gun pointed at me, I’m feeling a little expendable.” Simon laughs softly and pulls the CHRONOS key from his pocket. “You must’ve thought Patrick was. The man wasn’t even armed, just poking a keychain flashlight into her back, and you slit his throat.”

I glance down at Conwell’s body. Simon’s right. Kiernan’s mouth tightens, but he doesn’t look down to confirm what Simon said, so I’m guessing he realized it when he pulled me into the room.

“Same thing you did to Saul,” Kiernan says. “And how many other people? I can think of five off the top of my head. Patrick killed more than a few himself and was on his way to killing a whole bunch more, so . . .”

“Saul got what he deserved,” Simon says as he looks down at his key, preparing to jump. I wait for Kiernan to say something. To do something. But his hands are shaking on the rifle.

A slight movement pulls Simon’s eyes away from the display, toward the single bright blue CHRONOS key.

I see it too. Connor’s hand flexes, grabbing toward the key. Any hesitation I felt about shooting vanishes instantly.

I lean through the doorway with the Colt and do what I should have done earlier. I do what Kiernan can’t.

My bullet hits Simon in the back of the neck, but my gun isn’t the only one firing. I hear shots from the hallway, and Kiernan’s gun fires, too, a moment later. Trey calls out my name, and behind him in the hallway I hear shouting. “Federal agents! Drop the weapons and come out with your hands over your head.”

I fire again, and Simon crumples forward as the last bullet hits him, his head inches from Prudence and Connor. His body twitches a few times, and then he’s still.

But not before he pulls that last active key toward him.

Not before Connor vanishes.

∞25∞

E
STERO
, F
LORIDA

July 13, 2030, 12:54 p.m.

“Easy, love. The idea is to destroy the nasty stuff in the vials, not send them crashing to the floor.”

Kiernan’s right. While the bleach in the tub is industrial strength, there’s no point in taking chances. I should stop letting anger and frustration rule me. This is the last tray. June managed to disinfect the vials we brought back from Addis Ababa, even with her wounded arm in the sling. She’s in the other room now, on what’s left of the bed Pru dismantled.

I drive the pick into the next vial with a little less force, but I still move quickly. I want this over. I want it done.

Not because I’m worried there’s anyone to jump in and prevent me from finishing the task. Anyone who can both use the CHRONOS key and who thought the Culling was necessary, or even a necessary evil, is dead. Except maybe Prudence. I don’t know what she thinks. I’m not even sure she knows.

I hurry because I want to get back. I want to find a way to fix this.

At the very same time, I know I can’t. If Connor was dead, then yes, I could change things. I could empty every single bullet in that gun into Simon before Connor ever walked into the room and prevent his death.

But I can’t prevent Connor from not existing in this timeline. The CHRONOS field was the only thing that held him here. To anyone not under a key in this reality, Connor Dunne never existed. It won’t matter if they’d interacted with him daily. Even the Valenzia’s Pizza guy wouldn’t remember him.

I wonder if the company’s profits are down, and that stray thought has me somewhere between laughing and crying. And I don’t want to do either of those things. I just want this over. I want it
done
.

“So . . . June’s going with you?” I ask, mostly to get my mind on something else.

“Yes. Kate’s worried Katherine is going to argue against us keeping the keys at all. Having all three of them in the past, so that we can get them to you immediately in your present, is the safest option.”

I nod, pretending that makes sense. And maybe it would if my brain wasn’t still replaying the scene in Conwell’s office.

“You’ll be in Georgia, then?” I ask.

“We might go there occasionally, but I kind of lost track of what days I’ve been in Georgia over the past few years, and I need to minimize interaction with Martha since I have no idea how that might affect the future. I bought a little place up in New York.”

“Let me guess. You’ve been gambling again.”

He gives me a half grin. “As I’ve said before, it’s not gambling if you know you’ll win. It’s just a little house on the Finger Lakes, near Skaneateles.”

The way he pronounces it, it’s almost a rhyme for Minneapolis, but it seems familiar. “Was that . . . ?”

“Yeah. It was on the note I told you to give to the driver of the surveillance van. Kate and I spent some time up there once. It’s beautiful.”

“I think I’ve seen it. Through Katherine’s key, the first time I touched it.”

Kiernan looks a little confused, but then he says, “I’ll leave you the coordinates when we go. If the keys don’t arrive, whatever plans I made for getting them to you fell through, and you’ll need to let me know.”

“Are you sure June won’t use the key?”

He thinks about it for a moment. “I can’t promise she won’t use it. But she won’t use it in a bad way, not to change anything. And she can’t stay here. Have you looked outside?”

“No. Why?”

“The Farm looks like no one has been here in years. I think the Cyrists are on a very different trajectory now.”

“I’d be happier if there was
no
trajectory. I’d like to go back and erase those vile little books from existence.” And with that thought, I turn back to jabbing the stupid vials as hard as I was before.

“And maybe erase yourself along with them, Kate? I wouldn’t want to test how that little conundrum played out.”

“It might not change anything. Connor was working against Saul before I even came into the picture, and nothing happened when Simon erased him.”

My voice breaks at the end. Kiernan steps forward and puts his hands on my shoulders. That one touch is enough to start the tears I’ve been holding back. Even though he’s behind me and can’t see my face, he knows. He always knows.

“Why don’t you let me finish these?”

“No,” I say, pulling away from his hands. “There are only a few more, and I need to stab something. I’m okay.”

Kiernan sighs and goes back to leaning against the wall, probably thinking that
I need to stab something
and
I’m okay
don’t really belong in the same sentence.

Blinking back the tears, I manage to drive the pick through the last few seals. I’m scrubbing my arms at the sink when Kiernan speaks again.

“I am so sorry, Kate. For all of it. If I’d fired the gun earlier, Connor would still . . .” He’s on the brink of crying as well. “I’m sorry.”

Part of me wants to agree. An angry voice is yelling,
You’re damned right! Why didn’t you just shoot him?

But that same voice is yelling the very same thing at me.
Why didn’t YOU kill him?

“I had the chance to shoot Simon when he was talking to Patterson, Kiernan . . . and I couldn’t. Even though he was willing to kill billions of people, would have killed them if we hadn’t changed things, and would have gone
back
to kill them again if he’d gotten away—I still couldn’t fire the gun until I saw him grabbing for Connor’s key. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

I don’t mention the other question in my mind, the one I’m pretty sure is going to haunt me. Was I able to shoot at that moment because Simon now posed a direct and immediate physical threat to someone concrete, someone right there in front of me, rather than the faceless, nameless multitude who would die in the Culling? Or was I able to shoot only because he now posed a direct threat to someone I loved?

“That’s not the only thing I have to apologize for, Kate. What Simon said . . . about you being a spare? I never thought that, but my actions? They put you at risk. They . . . made it seem that I valued your life less than hers. And that’s never been true. You’re as much her as she is, at least to me. I never, ever thought of you as expendable.”

He takes my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine. I think he meant it to be brief, almost platonic, but that doesn’t seem possible for either of us. And although I know I should fight it, I don’t. Because this will be the last time I kiss Kiernan. Even if I see him again before they leave, this will be our last moment alone before he goes back to his time, his Kate, his wife. And I can’t stop my mind from wondering about that other life, my own road not taken. I love Trey, I’m
in love
with Trey, but whatever the future holds for us, part of me will always wonder.

When I pull away, he says, “What I told you in Georgia? That I’ve only ever loved one girl? It’s still true, and I count myself lucky beyond belief that she is alive and waiting for me. That our child . . .” He laughs softly and shakes his head. “I still can’t even wrap my head around that.”

I hold back the question of whether he’s certain the child is his, remembering what he said before. Whatever happened during the time his Kate was missing is between the two of them, and I don’t want to dim the smile on his face when he mentions the baby.

“What I’m trying to say is,
you
are my Kate, too. My first Kate. The girl with the funny painted toes, whose eyes were still young and who could laugh in a way my Kate had lost by the time we met. I’m just glad I have the chance now to set that right. And one day, if I see your smile on her face, maybe that’ll keep me from feeling I’ve left a piece of my heart behind.”

O
UTSIDE THE
S
IXTEENTH
S
TREET
T
EMPLE

W
ASHINGTON
, DC

September 12, 9:39 p.m.

The Gray Ghost is parked half a block down. I wave to get Dad’s attention, and a few seconds later, he pulls up next to me. Other-Kate is riding with him. As soon as the window is down, she asks, “Where’s Kiernan? Is he okay?”

“Yes. He’ll meet us at Katherine’s at midnight.” I look back at Dad. “Trey will run out that door in less than a minute. If he doesn’t show, wait ten more seconds and then go. Get back to Briar Hill. The police will be here really soon.”

“What about you?”

“I have to get Prudence. Simon and Conwell are dead. Connor—” I shake my head because I can’t say it. I can’t. But they both know. Dad gulps and squeezes my hand.

“Awww, Kate, no . . .”

“I’m going back to pull Conwell and Simon’s keys. Hopefully their bodies will vanish like Saul’s did. It will make explanations a lot easier.”

Other-Kate looks doubtful. “I don’t think that will work. They all vanished because there was no CHRONOS in that timeline. But when you stopped the Culling, we shifted again. CHRONOS might still happen in this timeline. And June said Simon and Conwell’s dad was one of the historians.”

“They’re
brothers
?”

“Well, half brothers. Conwell isn’t Pru’s son. He’s one of the offspring Simon or Edna convinced to join. If CHRONOS exists in this timeline and Pru is under a key . . . then Simon probably still exists.”

I fight the urge to kick the tire. So much for a quick and easy cleanup.

“Go,” I tell Dad. “I love you. I’ll be at the cottage when you get there.”

I roll the key back one minute and jump into the hallway where I met Prudence earlier. Letting myself through the door with the access badge she gave me, I turn down the smaller corridor. Trey is in the doorway with his rifle pointed into the library. I know this will give him a wicked double memory. Still, it’s better than him being caught in the hallway with an assault weapon.

Simon’s voice comes through the doorway, “. . . kept her safe for you, man! Just like I promised.”

Sneaking up on Trey in this situation seems like a horrible idea. We’re in a hurry, though. I just hope he’s not as jumpy as Charlayne when she’s holding a gun.

I whisper Trey’s name, and he does startle, but his finger doesn’t pull the trigger.

“Oh, God. Kate. Something’s wrong. Connor—”

“Shh. I know. Give me the rifle and go, okay? I’m . . . I’m safe, I swear. The police are coming. Dad’s at the entrance waiting for you.”

He starts to hand me the gun. “Um . . . fingerprints.”

I glance down. He’s wearing the same kind of dark gloves that Charlayne and Ben were wearing earlier.

While I seriously doubt that it matters at this point, I pull the sleeve of Dad’s shirt over my hand and grab the barrel.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes. Just run!”

“Love you.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head and takes off.

From inside the office, I hear Kiernan saying, “. . . told you that years ago.”

I should just blink out. I need to get both of these guns out of the building before I do anything else. And the expression on Trey’s face as he said Connor’s name gave me my answer.

But I can’t leave without checking. I move two steps forward to where Trey was standing and lean to the side so I can see. Simon is there. Prudence is there, sprawled out with her hair fanned over her face. Deactivated CHRONOS medallions cover that patch of carpet, along with one that remains bright blue.

No Connor.

I drop Trey’s rifle and my Colt off at Estero, and then I roll the key back to 9:39 again. As soon as I see Earlier-Me and Kiernan disappear with the vials, I blink into the darkened room near Conwell’s office. Kiernan wanted to come back with me, but police will be crawling all over this place at any moment. It will be hard enough explaining the situation if Prudence and I are still here when they arrive, and that’s doubly true if Other-Kate’s right and we’re stuck in the room with two dead bodies. Adding Kiernan to the mix will just complicate matters.

Conwell’s key is attached to him by a long gold chain tucked inside his shirt. I slip my fingers under the chain at the back of his neck and quickly work it around until I can unfasten the blood-slicked clasp. The key comes away from his body dripping. I fight back a wave of nausea, hoping the blood will vanish along with his body.

But Other-Me was right. Conwell’s corpse is right where it was a moment ago, and I now have even more of his blood on me. I guess it’s possible he’s hiding a spare somewhere on his body, but I don’t have time to check.

Prudence moves slightly as I approach the spot where she and Simon are sprawled on the floor. I lift Simon’s hand to grab the medallion underneath. It’s still warm and slightly damp from his grip. And just like Conwell, Simon’s still there when I pull the key, still bleeding all over the carpet.

Connor’s key is a few inches away. It’s lying at an odd angle, not flat like the others. A small black rectangle is taped to the back.

It looks like . . . a thumb drive?

There’s noise in the outer hallway. I’m pretty sure that the same federal agents who yelled at Trey are now in the building. They don’t call out the warning this time, probably because there’s no longer an armed man outside this door.