Use everything at your disposal, including the handcuffs I sent you. Be careful around Melissa Masaad, the black woman with the funny hair. She’s their leader and she’s smarter than you.
I’d come out and help, but my people are still watching me closely. I can’t join you without bringing Rebel back down on your heads. All I can say is good luck and godspeed. Don’t let Theo die.
—Peter
PS—Don’t go to the Brooklyn address I gave you. It’s been compromised. When you get to the city, have Mia—and only Mia—call 11-53-34855. We’ll arrange a meet from there.
The room fell to silence as Peter’s message passed from hand to hand. David dropped the note to the coffee table with a frustrated sigh.
“I have no idea how to react to this. I mean I don’t know if this is Future Peter using hindsight or Present Peter using foresight. If it’s Future Peter—”
“David . . .”
He threw a nervous look at Hannah. “I’m just trying to make sense of it.”
“I understand that. But have you ever hijacked a truck before?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, that makes four of us. Maybe we should focus on that.”
Freshly stung by Peter’s rebuke, the boy nodded. “You’re right. You’re right.”
Zack emptied the bag of handcuffs and spread out Peter’s materials. Among the maps was a sketch of a rental truck, and another of the rocky outcropping that would serve as the ambush point.
As the beleaguered Silvers began to formulate their plans, Mia found her gaze drifting back to the little patch of air where she’d just split time. She’d only just gotten used to the idea of multiple futures. Now she had to process multiple pasts. She’d been so worried about destroying the Earth. Now she had to wrap her mind around the possibility that she’d just created one.
TWENTY-NINE
The 3 A.M. chime broke the silence in the interrogation room. Melissa yawned and checked her watch. The building had been on high alert for five hours now, with no sign of intruders.
She sat cross-legged on the desk, her crumpled red bra resting in her lap. As caffeine and exhaustion pummeled her from both sides, a high and giddy chuckle escaped her throat.
“My agents think I’m crazy. Even more so than usual. I’d blame you, Mr. Augur, but really the fault is mine. I’ve let the surrealism infect me to the point where I actually believe that an actress, an artist, and two minors would dare attack this place.”
Theo lay on the folding cot, his arm draped over his eyes. He was coming down off a bevy of neuroleptic drugs, a dilating effect that made the ceiling bulbs burn like desert suns.
In the sober light of reason, he regretted leaving his mumbled clue for David in Marietta. If he’d been wrong, he would have sent his friends on a wild-goose chase. Being right was even worse. He might have lured them into a trap, thanks to Melissa’s adaptive reasoning.
“I still can’t shake the feeling that they’re coming to rescue you,” she said. “Perhaps they’re waiting for some kind of signal.”
“For the hundredth time, I don’t know where they are. I don’t know what they know. If you’d just let me sleep—”
“No, no. If I have to stay up, so do you. I blame you enough for that.”
Theo clenched his jaw. “God, you’re ridiculous. Do you even have a life outside this job?”
“Not much of one. No.”
“Well then maybe you should live it up while you’re still young and hot.”
“Thank you for the compliment, but I don’t do well with flings. We at least have that in common.”
Theo raised his arm to glare at her. “Did you ghost my entire relationship with Hannah?”
“Not the naughty parts,” she assured him. “We have rules about that.”
“Oh good. So you didn’t chuck the entire Fourth Amendment.”
She dangled her shapely legs off the table and swayed them like a bored child. “I know you don’t have ghost drills on your world, but do you even have Domestic Protections?”
Theo rubbed his eyes. There was no point in pretending.
“We call it the FBI. The Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
“Interesting. I like that. And what about the NIC?”
“The what?”
“The National Integrity Commission. I guess you don’t have that either, as such.”
“I guess not, considering I have no idea what that is.”
Melissa sighed a heavy breath. For his sake, she hoped he’d never find out.
Howard poked his head into the room, his eyes dark and bleary with fatigue. Melissa could sense that even he resented her for the overzealous lockdown.
“The tugs are here,” he announced.
“Excellent. If I can have four men help me with the generators, I’ll escort Amanda myself.”
“Okay. I’ll round some up.”
“What’s happening now?” Theo asked.
Melissa hopped off the table and grabbed her gun. “We’re leaving.”
—