CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DAY 15. DAWN
I woke up to Courtney’s arm thrown across my face, her body taking up seventy-five percent of the bed and mine shoved into the other twenty-five. I was reminded then of why I’d forced her to sleep on the floor of my room all those nights when storms had spooked her.
I carefully moved her arm from my face and extricated myself from the bed, giving my sleeping dad a quick glance before quietly slipping out of the room. We’d have to talk. I knew that. I just wanted to give him more time.
Outside, I stood on the porch of the medical building and looked over toward the lake, where I could make out Sasha and Stewart using a tree trunk as a table to clean fish. Mason had a headset on, gun aimed at the makeshift target, but he wasn’t firing yet. Holly stood closer to the lake, her back to me. She had taken up my pointless activity of tossing handfuls of rocks into the water one at a time, attempting to get them to skip. That’s when I noticed Blake off to the side of Holly, who seemed completely unaware of his presence as his body moved in a blurred form, over and over again, snatching the rocks she was throwing out of thin air, then tossing them into the lake himself.
Why was no one else seeing this? This was Blake, the guy who didn’t have the hand-eye coordination to be confident enough to shoot at a target even once.
An idea formed quickly, but I had to be discreet. His words kept repeating in my head over and over. He’d suffered a similar injury to mine when he landed on Misfit Island. Grayson had to save his life just like he saved mine, and now I’d seemed to develop a few new tricks.
I walked closer to Sasha, the smell of dead fish filling my nostrils, wanting to test my theory on another time jumper first. I removed my key chain from my pocket, and said, “Sasha, catch!” before tossing the keys close enough for her to attempt to grab them but too far for even the most advanced human to actually succeed. Her fingers missed by an entire foot, and she glared at me before walking forward and then bending over to retrieve the keys from the grass.
“What are these for?” she asked.
Stewart’s eyes were on me now, too, waiting for some big piece of information. I took the keys out of Sasha’s hand, stuffing them back in my pocket. “Nothing. Just saying good morning.”
Blake and Holly had stopped their contemplative rock tossing/catching activity and were now watching this exchange. I made sure to catch Blake’s eye as I held my hand out to Stewart. “Can I borrow that knife for a second?”
“Want me to clean off the fish guts first?”
“Nope.” The knife landed in my palm, the wooden handle slimy from fish blood, the blade aimed at the grass. I flipped my hand around the knife, holding Blake’s gaze, my heart beginning to speed up from the adrenaline rush. And then in an instant, I lifted the knife and threw it hard, aiming right at Mason’s back. The adrenaline made my vision sharper and that was probably the reason that I saw Blake’s body move in a blur of dark hair, red shirt, and blue jeans.
The second I registered the knife in his hand, before anyone could make a move, I snatched Stewart’s gun from the back of her pants, and as soon as Mason dove to the ground, I fired at Blake.
One bullet. Two bullets. Three bullets.
He shifted left, then right, then left, the bloody knife still clutched in his right hand, the bullets piercing a large maple tree fifty feet behind him.
Finally, I lowered the gun to my side, ears still ringing from the shots. A second passed, giving me the chance to absorb the shocked faces of the four individuals watching, Mason shouted a string of swear words while peeling himself off the grass and then Stewart was barreling into me, pinning me to the ground.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she screamed right into my ear, her voice amplified from the ringing in my ears.
Within ten seconds, Mason and Holly stood over me, guns pointed at my head. Sasha took off running, probably to get help, but Blake stood in the same spot near the water, looking completely stunned.
“What just happened?” he muttered, staring right at me, not appearing in the least bit concerned with the fact that I’d attempted to take his life.
“He tried to f*cking kill both of us,” Mason said, glaring down at me.
“Is it memory gas?” Holly asked, looking at Stewart, who had been standing closest to me.
Blake finally moved toward us. “How did you know I could do that? How do you—”
“I did it yesterday.” I grunted out the words, Stewart’s weight pressing on me and constricting the air flow to my lungs. “My dad shot at me under the influence of memory gas and he was only five feet away, aiming right at my head, and I saw the bullet clear as day, saw it in slow motion and I fell to the side. I shouldn’t have been able to dodge it.”
“Okay, but that totally doesn’t give you the right to use Blake as your test subject,” Holly said.
“You threw keys at Sasha and knives and bullets at Blake?” Stewart asked, but she let up a little, giving me room to sit up.
“No.” Blake shook his head. “It’s because of our brain damage.” His eyes lifted to meet mine. “If you had told me, if you had even hinted at it…”
“You couldn’t have done it,” I finished for him, nodding and feeling a bit of relief that he understood. “I saw you catching the rocks Holly was throwing.”
She glanced at him, confused. “You were catching the rocks? But you weren’t close enough—”
“Exactly,” I said.
Both Holly and Mason lowered their guns and Stewart moved away, sitting back on her heels.
“Maybe you couldn’t warn him,” Stewart said, “but you could have warned the rest of us.”
I shrugged. “I would have talked myself out it. It was completely impulsive.”
When I stood up, my hand brushed against Holly’s, sending a jolt through my stomach. I laid my hands on her shoulders and turned her body about fifteen degrees. “Don’t move.”
I walked out farther in the grass, making sure I was lined up with the maple tree in the distance. “All right, now shoot me.”
“No way,” Holly said, looking disgusted. “Get Mason or Stewart to be your lab partner.”
“Gladly,” Mason said, already lifting his gun again.
“You have the best aim, Hol. Can’t have bullets ricocheting off the trees.”
“Do it,” Blake instructed, surprising me. “He’ll be fine.”
“This is so stupid.” Holly shook her head but she was already lifting her gun, pointing it at me. Which wasn’t the first time I’d been in this position with her, unfortunately. We’d been meeting like this a lot in World A.
As Holly pulled the trigger, I spotted Dad and Sasha running toward us and then pulled my eyes back to focus on the bullet heading straight for my forehead. I stepped two feet to my left and watched the bullet in slow motion as it floated past me and then penetrated the surface of the tree.
“What the hell?” Dad shouted.
“Again,” Blake said, staring at the side of Holly’s face. “Do it again.”
She followed orders and fired four more bullets at me, relaxing a little as I dodged each one. Finally, she lowered her gun, shock filling her expression. “I’m out of ammo.”
Dad stopped in front of us, letting out a breath and rubbing his temples. “What is going on?”
“Your kid is no longer human and neither is Blake, apparently,” Stewart said, then her eyes snapped to me. “And Blondie does not have better aim than me.”
“I think we’re time-traveling,” Blake said, getting everyone’s undivided attention. “Inside the electromagnetic pulse. But it’s such a small jump, somehow it works. And that explains—”
“Emily,” I said, following his train of thought, astonished at this realization.
“Are you sharing a brain now, too?” Mason asked.
“She said she was with the other people on the island,” Blake said. “Thomas left her there to rot along with them.”
“She told me when I found her in 2009 that Thomas and Ludwig said she wouldn’t be able to escape but she did. Somehow, she made it out,” I finished.
Holly tucked her gun away. “Well, at least there’s hope for two of us getting out of here.”
She walked off toward the cabins without an explanation. I was about to call after her but Dad stopped me. “This is what you did yesterday, isn’t it? In the woods? You dodged that bullet.”
I nodded warily, afraid to say anything else about those freakish few minutes.
Dad closed his eyes briefly, drawing in a quick breath of air. “So you’re not quite as vulnerable as I thought then.”
“Guess not.”
He clasped his hand to my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Good.” Then he turned to Stewart. “Come with me to explain this new development to Grayson and Lonnie. I’m sure they heard the gunshots and will want to know what’s going on.”
Sasha jogged behind them, probably wanting to make sure her side of the story was reported accurately. After they were out of sight, Mason picked up the bloody, fishy-smelling knife and pointed it at the shooting target.
“Think I can do it, too?” he asked. “Want to throw this at my head again and see if I move quick enough?”
“Sure,” I said at the same time Blake said, “No.”
Mason dropped the knife into the grass and shrugged like I hadn’t just offered to throw another weapon at him, and then he walked off toward the medical building.
“You are going to lay off him eventually, aren’t you?” Blake bent over to retrieve the knife from the grass and then stabbed the blade into the tree trunk beside the beheaded fish.
“That depends.” I wiped the remaining fish blood onto my jeans and tried to breathe through my mouth to avoid inhaling the revolting smell. “If he stops looking at my sister like … like—”
“Like how you look at Holly?” Blake said quietly.
“No,” I snapped. “He’s all lust and impure thoughts.”
Blake snorted back a laugh and I couldn’t exactly blame him. I sounded like an angry, overly protective father. “And you know this for a fact?”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Why? What has he told you?”
“Nothing.” Blake shook his head. “But I have eyes. I watch people. And you around Holly, that’s about as desperate, lustful, and in-love as anyone can look at someone.”
My mouth fell open to respond but we were interrupted by Holly’s returning with a box of bullets in one hand and her gun in the other.
Holly’s eyebrows shot up. “Discussing something important? More Jackson Meyer secrets to bury?”
“No,” I said. “We were just talking about Mason and Courtney.”
Holly spun the gun around in her hand, stepping closer to me. “I’m getting sick of your martyr routine. You refuse to tell me anything that resembles the truth. That’s fine. Whatever. But quit f*cking looking at me like you’ll die if I die.”
Blake’s eyes dropped to the grass as he coughed loudly, too polite to say, I told you so.
“I’m not trying to look at you in any particular way. It’s probably accidental.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re a trained agent, Jackson. You’re telling me you can’t conceal your thoughts from invading your expression?”
“I don’t—” I started, but she lifted a hand to stop me.
“You’re like one of those girls in high school that goes on and on about how she likes someone but then won’t tell you who until you bug her ten thousand times,” Holly said, her eyes staring hard into mine. “You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? Dangling it in my face until I beg you to tell me the big secret you’re keeping from me.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I moved my gaze from her face and started to walk away.
“Don’t I?” She reached out and grabbed my arm. “You’re doing it right now.” She turned to Blake, but still gripped my arm tight. “You can see it, too, can’t you, Blake?”
Blake’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No. Not really.”
We both heard the lie in his tone and Holly’s pointed expression aimed at me silently said, See? I told you.
She released my arm from her grip. “Either tell me the big secret or quit playing the attention-seeking-high-school-girl role and act like a grown-up and keep it to yourself.”
I was suddenly so pissed off I couldn’t see straight. Not at Holly. Not really at anyone. Just at the situation. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t seem to do the right thing.
“Why is it so important for you to know?” The anger in my voice must have surprised her because she took a tiny step back. “What difference does it make what happened in another time that doesn’t exist anymore?”
She closed the gap between us. I could feel someone else approaching, maybe two someones. Or three. But I was too pissed off to care about who listened in.
“Because it’s about me,” Holly challenged. “You’re keeping details about me from me and relentlessly reminding me of this secret info.”
“Not you.” I shook my head. “I keep telling you it wasn’t you. It was a different version of you. Why is that so hard to wrap your head around?”
“Because I remember!” Holly shouted at me.