Alec leaned his forehead against the coolness of the window and shut his eyes. The bus lumbered along the main thoroughfare, hitting nearly every possible pothole as the sun sank in the west and his life spun further out of control. It didn’t seem to matter that moving the three of them back in time had probably saved their lives and everyone around them. Darius was sure it was a big mistake and that both the Tyons and the Intergalactic Council would be after him.
He shifted in his seat, weariness and despondency washing over him with every breath. He was so tired it was hard to think. Somewhere in his core a trembling was building—the usual reaction to teleportation and the effects of an unbelievably difficult battle with Rhozan. He wished he could curl up and fall asleep for the next forty hours. Riley’s warm thigh touched his as she shifted beside him and his breath caught in his throat. He was even too tired to think about her, but that didn’t stop his heart from giving an unexpected leap the instant she accidentally nudged him.
“How long are we going to stay on this bus?” Riley spoke to Darius in the seat behind them in a tight voice.
“We’ll go all the way downtown, as close to the train station as we can. We can’t fly anywhere because none of you have passports,” Darius replied.
“I’m not getting on any train.” Peter sounded sulky and wasn’t bothering to keep his voice down. It sounded like his lips were swollen.
“Keep quiet,” Darius muttered.
Peter kicked the back of Alec’s seat.
“There aren’t too many places to hide,” Riley was whispering. “I mean, Canada’s a wicked big country, but the train only goes from East to West. What are we going to do? Jump off into a wheat field somewhere and hope no one notices?”
“Yes, Riley, jumping off a moving train was just what I was thinking,” Darius replied. “We’ll let you go first.”
“I have a better suggestion.” Alec could almost hear her unspoken words. Obviously so did Peter. The back of their seat was forcefully kicked again.
“Now, now,” Darius rebuked saucily.
“What about your training station in Toronto?” Riley asked in a more serious tone. “Is Anna there or could we hide there, say we’ve been there all along?”
Alec could hear Darius’s sigh. “Anna’s in and out of the station frequently. At this present time, we’re on observation mode, not collection. I show up with three Potentials, one of whom won’t keep his mouth shut, and the cat is out of the bag. We’re going to have to disappear.”
“But won’t they be able to find you with the implant?” Riley asked.
Alec felt his stomach drop. He’d forgotten the Tyons had embedded a translation device like Darius’s just behind his ear. He had no idea what other functions it might have. Could he be tracked by it?
“Good thought, Riley.” Darius sounded frustrated. “You’re right. They can and I suspect eventually will, once they’ve narrowed the field and realized we’re high on the list of suspects. We’ve got to think of a convincing story for Anna that will explain where I’ve been and why you three are with me by the time she shows up.”
The bus jerked to a halt. The front doors opened and a laughing group clambered on board to the soundtrack provided by a boombox thudding a heavy bass line. Alec cracked open an eye as the profanity-laden music got closer. Great, gang-bangers looking for trouble. Alec closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. With any luck they’d head to the back of the bus and harass someone else.
The bus pulled away from the curb and entered traffic. In the distance a horn blared. The music got very loud and didn’t fade.
“Hey, look at this. We got two lovers on this bus.” The young man’s voice was thick with an unidentifiable accent and oozed menace. It was right beside him, Alec realized with a sinking feeling.
“Go harass someone who cares,” Riley snapped. Alec reached out, grasped her hand and gripped it tightly. This was not the time to antagonize anyone. Especially gang members who just lived to make someone’s life miserable. He opened his eyes and twisted in his seat.
The leader was nearly as short as Riley, but his neck was probably as thick as her thigh, and his dark skin was a mass of tribal African tattoos, even over the dome of his shaved head. The three others with him didn’t look any friendlier, especially the one carrying the boombox on his shoulder, whose head almost brushed the roof of the bus.
All four were staring at Darius and Peter with a mixture of glee and loathing. Darius had his arm around Peter’s shoulder and his hand gripped Peter’s upper arm tightly to keep him under control. Darius was eyeing the gang with mild fascination but Peter was sinking lower in his seat, showing the haunted look Alec knew so well, despite his attempt to conceal it. Here we go again, Alec sighed to himself.
The gang leader poked Darius’s shoulder with a finger. “Hey, boy, he your sweetheart?”
Darius cocked one golden eyebrow upwards.
“I’m talkin’ to you.” The poke became a shove. The other gang members sniggered. Alec felt Riley’s tremor. He squeezed her hand tighter.
“My aural acuity is not compromised,” Darius said. On the surface, his tone was quite reasonable. “Merely the inanity of the request that precludes a response.”
It took a minute for the gang to realize the insult. “Shut his trap for him, Leon,” the boombox owner encouraged.
Leon needed no encouragement. He twisted his fingers into Darius’s shirt, bunching the fabric tightly, and pulled upward. A slight tearing sound provided the background for the string of profanity. Darius didn’t blink.
“We don’t like your kind on our bus,” said one of the quartet, who was missing two of his front teeth.
“Because you’re worried about your own latent feelings or because your own equipment is so pathetic?” Riley piped up.
Alec groaned.
Leon growled as he let go of Darius’s shirt and reached for Riley.
Alec didn’t hesitate. He knew from experience that the best defense was a painful and unexpected offence. Leaping over Riley, he dove into the boom-box carrier and belted him as hard as he could. The man crumpled under the well-placed cross. An elbow to the jerk behind him had blood spewing from the guy’s nose. Anger surged in Alec’s blood. He was sick and tired of this kind of idiot. Sick of having to fight other people’s battles. Sick of everything.
The swaying bus didn’t give much room to maneuver but Alec managed a straight kick and a powerful uppercut before the third thug knocked him to the floor. He was aware that Darius had entered the fray only by Riley’s shouted warning, “Darius, look out” and her furious command to Peter to “help them, you dipstick.” Alec didn’t have time to argue that Peter never fought his own battles. Someone was holding him down, grinding his face into the accumulated dirt in the rubber flooring and twisting his arm behind his back so painfully he cried out. He managed a kick that connected with solid flesh before a heavy blow to his back stopped everything.
For a moment Alec wasn’t sure what had happened. Only that his heart nearly stopped as his body acknowledged the horror his brain was slower to admit. Something warm and sticky soaked through his shirt and trickled down the small of his back.
Riley screamed.
Alec could feel the bus slowing down, heard the shouts, felt the sizzle of orb power as Darius ended the fight. He was aware of Riley dropping to all fours beside him and yelling something as she pressed her hands into his back. The pressure hurt it more and he opened his mouth to tell her so, but strangely the words wouldn’t come. A hazy sense of fear surged through him but he was oddly distanced from it. It would be pretty stupid to die now, he thought feebly as the world around him faded into nothingness. The guy who saves the world falls victim to a cheap switchblade. He could see the headlines now.