with their
sudden presence. “Are you all okay?” one of them called. Somehow they hadn’t
noticed the three time travelers appear. Did their minds readjust, avoiding the
impossible implication? Or had they been busy behind the desk?
“Fine,”
Charlotte called. She shook out her shivering limbs. They’d almost been caught
in the destruction, but they survived.
Thanks
to her work, so had all the people who’d lived here seven years ago.
“I
took us back to when we left,” she told Monroe. “2023.”
Monroe
squinted her way. “Wasn’t that a bit risky?” He shrugged. “But we did it! We
stopped her bomb.” He raced over to the glass doorway that had been set in the
cut. Beyond it, several tables were positioned over a boardwalk stretching over
the widening Mid River. Throughout the boardwalk, plates of glass showed the
dark water reflecting below.
Beyond
the bar seats—which must’ve been new; Charlotte couldn’t remember Roosevelt
Island being much of a hot spot before the Blast—gondolas sat, waiting to take
people back into Manhattan. A massive pier had been built along one side, where
a tour boat currently bobbed, waiting to take people along the Blast’s
destructive path.
Not
much had changed, but she was proud of the very little she’d done.
“I
still can’t believe Ana’s the bomber,” Monroe whispered. “I could’ve sworn she
was on our side. I guess she changed her mind.”
His
eyes glued to Manhattan’s skyline—still marred by a thick cut—Bill said, “Who
wouldn’t change their mind after this?”
“Well,
c’mon,” Monroe said. “We know what to do now! All we have to do is pick a new
endpoint, figure out the historical time, and catch Ana setting another bomb!
Easy as pie.” He pushed through the doors, gesturing to the empty boat.
Outside, he grabbed Charlotte’s hand. “You did awesome, sis. Maybe next time,
since we know there’s an explosion at the end, we’ll be okay. We can defuse the
first two parts—whatever they’re supposed to do—and then run. Right?”
“Sure,”
Charlotte agreed. But she doubted the next bombs would be as easy. Knowing that
people were coming to stop her, Ana wouldn’t likely keep things the same.
As
they made their way amid the tables, she heard a voice call, “Charlotte?”
She
turned, looking around, and saw Charlie and Felix at a table, a couple empty
plates before them. This time, Felix was meeting Charlotte’s eyes, one eyebrow
lifted. Beside him, Charlie’s tan face was wide open with delight, but
Charlotte could see fifteen ticks on his drawing.
“We’ve
been waiting for you to show up,” Felix said.
“I,
uh …” Charlotte glanced at Monroe, before asking Felix, “You have?”
More
must’ve changed in this world than just a single building. Perhaps they’d told
Felix and Charlie to meet them here. That they were investigating the Blast or
… She had no idea. Maybe she’d never fought with Felix. Fiddling with her ring,
Charlotte said, “Sorry, I don’t really—”
Felix
sighed, his wide shoulders dropping. “Remember? You told me to drop off Charlie
here tonight. We made a date of it, but I don’t understand—” He spotted the ring
on Charlotte’s finger. “Why are you wearing that?”
Dropping
her hand from her ring, Charlotte checked Felix’s left hand. There was no gleam
of silver on any of his dark fingers. “Why aren’t—Oh, oh, God.”
She
should’ve expected this.
They’d
just snatched a thousand people from death. They’d changed time, rewritten
history. Of course there would be consequences. She just didn’t expect the
consequences would target her . “Oh God, ’Roe .” Charlotte
staggered back against a chair, her breath racked in sudden sobs.
“Charlotte?”
Felix asked.
“Mommy?”
Her little boy stood up, one of his small hands on her leg to steady her. “Are
you okay?”
She
stared at her ring, not daring to look at her son or her
sudden presence. “Are you all okay?” one of them called. Somehow they hadn’t
noticed the three time travelers appear. Did their minds readjust, avoiding the
impossible implication? Or had they been busy behind the desk?
“Fine,”
Charlotte called. She shook out her shivering limbs. They’d almost been caught
in the destruction, but they survived.
Thanks
to her work, so had all the people who’d lived here seven years ago.
“I
took us back to when we left,” she told Monroe. “2023.”
Monroe
squinted her way. “Wasn’t that a bit risky?” He shrugged. “But we did it! We
stopped her bomb.” He raced over to the glass doorway that had been set in the
cut. Beyond it, several tables were positioned over a boardwalk stretching over
the widening Mid River. Throughout the boardwalk, plates of glass showed the
dark water reflecting below.
Beyond
the bar seats—which must’ve been new; Charlotte couldn’t remember Roosevelt
Island being much of a hot spot before the Blast—gondolas sat, waiting to take
people back into Manhattan. A massive pier had been built along one side, where
a tour boat currently bobbed, waiting to take people along the Blast’s
destructive path.
Not
much had changed, but she was proud of the very little she’d done.
“I
still can’t believe Ana’s the bomber,” Monroe whispered. “I could’ve sworn she
was on our side. I guess she changed her mind.”
His
eyes glued to Manhattan’s skyline—still marred by a thick cut—Bill said, “Who
wouldn’t change their mind after this?”
“Well,
c’mon,” Monroe said. “We know what to do now! All we have to do is pick a new
endpoint, figure out the historical time, and catch Ana setting another bomb!
Easy as pie.” He pushed through the doors, gesturing to the empty boat.
Outside, he grabbed Charlotte’s hand. “You did awesome, sis. Maybe next time,
since we know there’s an explosion at the end, we’ll be okay. We can defuse the
first two parts—whatever they’re supposed to do—and then run. Right?”
“Sure,”
Charlotte agreed. But she doubted the next bombs would be as easy. Knowing that
people were coming to stop her, Ana wouldn’t likely keep things the same.
As
they made their way amid the tables, she heard a voice call, “Charlotte?”
She
turned, looking around, and saw Charlie and Felix at a table, a couple empty
plates before them. This time, Felix was meeting Charlotte’s eyes, one eyebrow
lifted. Beside him, Charlie’s tan face was wide open with delight, but
Charlotte could see fifteen ticks on his drawing.
“We’ve
been waiting for you to show up,” Felix said.
“I,
uh …” Charlotte glanced at Monroe, before asking Felix, “You have?”
More
must’ve changed in this world than just a single building. Perhaps they’d told
Felix and Charlie to meet them here. That they were investigating the Blast or
… She had no idea. Maybe she’d never fought with Felix. Fiddling with her ring,
Charlotte said, “Sorry, I don’t really—”
Felix
sighed, his wide shoulders dropping. “Remember? You told me to drop off Charlie
here tonight. We made a date of it, but I don’t understand—” He spotted the ring
on Charlotte’s finger. “Why are you wearing that?”
Dropping
her hand from her ring, Charlotte checked Felix’s left hand. There was no gleam
of silver on any of his dark fingers. “Why aren’t—Oh, oh, God.”
She
should’ve expected this.
They’d
just snatched a thousand people from death. They’d changed time, rewritten
history. Of course there would be consequences. She just didn’t expect the
consequences would target her . “Oh God, ’Roe .” Charlotte
staggered back against a chair, her breath racked in sudden sobs.
“Charlotte?”
Felix asked.
“Mommy?”
Her little boy stood up, one of his small hands on her leg to steady her. “Are
you okay?”
She
stared at her ring, not daring to look at her son or her
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