33

ALORA

MARCH 30, 2147

As soon as we emerge from the Void, we take off running. It’s weird, thinking that Zed is still alive on this date. I just hope we can reach him in enough time to save him.

It takes us nearly forty minutes to get to the New Denver terminal. We hadn’t taken into account that the transport shuttles to and from the Academy only run at certain times, so Bridger and I had to wait twenty minutes in the shuttle at the Academy’s transport lot, with our cloaks on so no one knew we were in the shuttle. To make it worse, only one other cadet even boarded the shuttle. Most everyone else had already gone to New Denver earlier in the day for the celebrations.

I was about ready to scream. I mean, I could have shifted straight to New Denver and found Zed already, but Bridger did have a point about sticking together.

As soon as the shuttle touches down in New Denver, Bridger jumps out of his seat and pushes past the lone cadet. I almost laugh at his expression. He had no clue that he wasn’t alone.

“If we somehow get separated, meet me at the fountain on the southern side of the square, where the celebrations took place,” Bridger says.

“Okay, but don’t you think that’s too close to where the first bomb exploded?” I ask. The targeted booth—a Purist attraction selling antique jewelry retrieved from the past—was on the right side of the large square, the fountain on the left.

Bridger shakes his head. “It’s far enough away from the blast radius. We’ll be fine.”

The next few minutes are a blur of pushing through I don’t know how many citizens. Their clothes blend together into an endless swirl of color. Somehow I tune out all of their chatter and hear only the sound of my breathing and my feet pounding on the pavement.

Bridger checks his DataLink. “Hurry! It’s about to happen!”

I try to run harder, make myself move faster, but it’s impossible when you’re constantly having to dodge people.

That’s why we’re a block away from the square when the first explosion hits.

I recoil in horror. We’re too late. But still, we keep running.

When we reach the square, Bridger slows to a stop, his mouth parting in surprise.

Everywhere, we see white outlines of people through our comm-sets, indicating cloaked Time Benders. Near the booth that just exploded, several are hunched over some bodies, the outlines of their hands hovering over the foreheads of the dying.

“Bridger, go! We can make it!” I scream.

We take off again, and barely get three steps away before the second blast hits—the one directly across from the first. That means we have thirty seconds to get to Zed. He was killed in the third blast, when the officer shot and killed Jode Lincoln.

But it’s even harder to move now that everyone around us is screaming, shoving, and trying to get away.

“We’re not gonna make it,” I say, tears filling my eyes. It’s not fair. We’re so close.

Bridger ignores me and keeps pushing his way through. It’s only when the third explosion happens that he stops. We stand helpless, staring at the smoky ruins just ahead of us. Cloaked Time Benders are already appearing, uploading the consciousnesses of more dying Talents. But again, only certain ones.

Why are they doing that?

I can’t help but notice that there is no cloaked Time Bender around the area where I know Zed’s body lies. I let out a choked sob. This is so beyond cruel, having to watch his death again.

Bridger says, in a strained voice, “We can go back again. Let’s go somewhere clear and shift back thirty minutes.”

“I don’t think so,” says a voice from behind us, just as two powerful hands grab my arms.