were mourned.
—Mahir Gowda
Me? Oh, I’m just your ordinary time-traveling badass with a badge. Now freeze, dirtbag. You’re going to Paradox Prison for a long, long time.
—Chronoforensic Analyst Indiction Rivers,
Space Crime Continuum , season one, episode three
11:30 P.M.
“Holy crap—Shawn! The wireless just came back on!” Robert waved his phone like it would illustrate the point. “I’ve got connection!”
“Me, too,” said Leita, holding up her own phone. “Maybe this means they’re finally getting ready to break us out of here.”
“Maybe,” said Shawn, with an utter lack of conviction. He didn’t want to discourage the others in their hoping—at this point, hope was about the only thing they had going for them, and he’d rather it lasted—but he couldn’t work up any excitement for something as small as the Internet coming on. Not unless it was accompanied by an announcement that the National Guard was on the way. He paused. The National Guard… “Shit.”
“What is it?” asked Vanessa. She was holding her iPad again, fiddling nervously with her new video editing software. Maybe later, she could edit together a video about their Comic-Con adventure. Assuming they all survived.
“We need to get back to work on the barricades. Break time’s over.” Shawn grabbed a hammer. “I want this place so fortified that we could live in it.”
“What?” Vanessa’s eyes widened. “Why? Didn’t you hear Robbie? They’re going to come and rescue us soon!”
“No, they’re not.” Shawn shook his own phone at her. “You hear that? Silence. Lorelei’s at the Coast Guard right now , and what I’ve got is silence. That means she hasn’t managed to get them moving yet, and if the Coast Guard isn’t moving, neither is anybody else. We’re not being saved just because we can check our e-mail again. And when people realize that, they’re going to lose what little serenity they had left. The shit’s about to hit the fan in here, and all that’s standing between us and the chaos is the hull on this ship.”
“It’s a booth, Shawn,” said Lynn quietly, stepping up next to her husband.
“Right now, it’s our ship, and it’s the only way we’re flying safely out of this.” Shawn thrust the hammer at her. She took it. “Get to work, all of you. We don’t have much time.”
“I hope you’re wrong, Shawn,” said Lynn, and leaned up to kiss his cheek before walking briskly toward the other side of the booth.
Shawn sighed. “So do I.” He glanced around at the others, finally settling on Robert. “Hey. I need you to do something for me.”
“What?” asked Robert, putting down the box that he’d been lifting.
“Come here.” Shawn beckoned him closer. Robert came, and when he was close enough, Shawn murmured, “I want you to get online and start looking for anyone who has outside eyes on this place. We need to know what’s going on. We need to know how bad things are going to get. Can you do that?”
“Sure,” said Robert. He had to fight to ignore the sudden churning in his stomach. This wasn’t how his Comic-Con was supposed to go. Not a bit of it. “Is there anything I should be watching for, in specific?”
“Yeah,” said Shawn. “Look for people talking about the zombie apocalypse. I need to know whether this is the end of the world.”
Wisely, Robert didn’t say anything else. He just moved to one of the booth’s folding chairs, sat down, and started to search. Shawn watched him go. Then he picked up another hammer, and turned to his work.
* * *
11:30 P.M.
Elle’s phone pinged, signaling that her e-mail had successfully been sent. It was a familiar enough sound that it didn’t wake her. Sleeping sitting up with her back braced against a door wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but she was tired enough and wrung-out enough from her day that she didn’t care anymore. On the other side of the replica office, Matthew and Patty slept
—Mahir Gowda
Me? Oh, I’m just your ordinary time-traveling badass with a badge. Now freeze, dirtbag. You’re going to Paradox Prison for a long, long time.
—Chronoforensic Analyst Indiction Rivers,
Space Crime Continuum , season one, episode three
11:30 P.M.
“Holy crap—Shawn! The wireless just came back on!” Robert waved his phone like it would illustrate the point. “I’ve got connection!”
“Me, too,” said Leita, holding up her own phone. “Maybe this means they’re finally getting ready to break us out of here.”
“Maybe,” said Shawn, with an utter lack of conviction. He didn’t want to discourage the others in their hoping—at this point, hope was about the only thing they had going for them, and he’d rather it lasted—but he couldn’t work up any excitement for something as small as the Internet coming on. Not unless it was accompanied by an announcement that the National Guard was on the way. He paused. The National Guard… “Shit.”
“What is it?” asked Vanessa. She was holding her iPad again, fiddling nervously with her new video editing software. Maybe later, she could edit together a video about their Comic-Con adventure. Assuming they all survived.
“We need to get back to work on the barricades. Break time’s over.” Shawn grabbed a hammer. “I want this place so fortified that we could live in it.”
“What?” Vanessa’s eyes widened. “Why? Didn’t you hear Robbie? They’re going to come and rescue us soon!”
“No, they’re not.” Shawn shook his own phone at her. “You hear that? Silence. Lorelei’s at the Coast Guard right now , and what I’ve got is silence. That means she hasn’t managed to get them moving yet, and if the Coast Guard isn’t moving, neither is anybody else. We’re not being saved just because we can check our e-mail again. And when people realize that, they’re going to lose what little serenity they had left. The shit’s about to hit the fan in here, and all that’s standing between us and the chaos is the hull on this ship.”
“It’s a booth, Shawn,” said Lynn quietly, stepping up next to her husband.
“Right now, it’s our ship, and it’s the only way we’re flying safely out of this.” Shawn thrust the hammer at her. She took it. “Get to work, all of you. We don’t have much time.”
“I hope you’re wrong, Shawn,” said Lynn, and leaned up to kiss his cheek before walking briskly toward the other side of the booth.
Shawn sighed. “So do I.” He glanced around at the others, finally settling on Robert. “Hey. I need you to do something for me.”
“What?” asked Robert, putting down the box that he’d been lifting.
“Come here.” Shawn beckoned him closer. Robert came, and when he was close enough, Shawn murmured, “I want you to get online and start looking for anyone who has outside eyes on this place. We need to know what’s going on. We need to know how bad things are going to get. Can you do that?”
“Sure,” said Robert. He had to fight to ignore the sudden churning in his stomach. This wasn’t how his Comic-Con was supposed to go. Not a bit of it. “Is there anything I should be watching for, in specific?”
“Yeah,” said Shawn. “Look for people talking about the zombie apocalypse. I need to know whether this is the end of the world.”
Wisely, Robert didn’t say anything else. He just moved to one of the booth’s folding chairs, sat down, and started to search. Shawn watched him go. Then he picked up another hammer, and turned to his work.
* * *
11:30 P.M.
Elle’s phone pinged, signaling that her e-mail had successfully been sent. It was a familiar enough sound that it didn’t wake her. Sleeping sitting up with her back braced against a door wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but she was tired enough and wrung-out enough from her day that she didn’t care anymore. On the other side of the replica office, Matthew and Patty slept
Similar Books
