18

BRIDGER

MARCH 17, 2146

My hurt knee twinges as I whirl around. A military Space Bender is standing a few feet away, aiming a stunner at my chest.

“Get those hands up now,” she commands.

The Academy requires cadets to receive a half-stun during the first year, to get an idea of what it’s like to break the rules. I swore I’d never be on the receiving end of a stunner after that. I raise my hands high over my head.

“Good boy,” she says. Her dark eyes narrow as she takes in every inch of me. I always thought it would be sexy to have a woman check me out like that, but this pisses me off. “Don’t you dare try to shift, Creed. I’ve been authorized to use whatever force is necessary to take you into custody.”

As I stare at the Space Bender, with that self-satisfied smirk on her face, I truly realize how completely screwed I am. I knew there was a high possibility I’d revert to my own time since I don’t have a Chronoband. I should have taken precautions. Like shifting well out of the tracking parameters the DTA obviously set up around this area. But no, I had to hurry and shift without considering every option. Now the DTA will haul me before another tribunal. My only defense then will be to plea insanity.

Or I could go back again and finish what I started.

Two choices.

Both with bad consequences.

I close my eyes but realize I shouldn’t have done that when the Space Bender yells, “Stop!”

Her stunner crackles a split second before I’m hit. Fire blazes through my body. This is so much worse than a half-stun. I feel like I’m dying. My muscles freeze, and I crash to the ground.

All I can do is glare at the Space Bender as she activates her DataLink. “I’ve got Creed. He was attempting to shift again, so I immobilized him.”

She walks a few paces away, whispering into her DataLink. She doesn’t have to worry about me going anywhere—I won’t be able to move for at least ten minutes. And shifting is impossible until the effects of the stun wear off. It’s just me and the ground. I grit my teeth so hard that my jaw starts to hurt.

The smell of dirt and grass fills my nostrils as I concentrate on calming myself. I try to think soothing thoughts. Like grabbing her stunner and shooting her so she can see how it feels.

Footsteps crunch across the ground behind me. “Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” a man says in a nasally voice. He walks around me, followed by another man. It’s the DTA official and the overweight museum tour guide.

The tour guide glares at me. “This is the fugitive?”

“Yes,” the Space Bender says.

“Good. Now will you leave? I’m losing credits,” he says while mopping his sweaty brow with a handkerchief.

Talk about disgusting.

The DTA official gives him a contemptuous look before saying, “We appreciate your understanding in this situation, but this is a matter of national security. I have to ask you to leave us now.”

The tour guide’s face reddens. “National security? Why don’t you say what it really is—a cover up? Well, I’ll tell you why. The government doesn’t want the public to know that one of their precious Time Benders has gone crazy. That’s what you get for messing with genetics!”

The DTA official sighs heavily before taking the tour guide by the arm. “Sir, I need you to come with me.”

The tour guide continues to rant as the official leads him back to the museum. Even though he’s a Purist, I almost feel sorry for him. They’ll probably use a Mind Redeemer on him.

The minutes tick by. So slowly. My mouth has completely lost all moisture.

“Get up,” the Space Bender says, just when I think I’m about to completely wild out.

I test my fingers first to see if they can move. They wiggle without any trouble. I slowly sit up. The lingering effect of the stunner is obvious. I wobble as I climb back to my feet.

The Space Bender points toward a shuttle behind the museum with her stunner. “Move.”

“What are you going to do to me?” I ask in a hoarse whisper.

“No questions, Creed. Just walk.”

My feet move as if they’re made of steel. A guard waits outside the shuttle, looking like she’d rather be somewhere else. Another DTA official exits when we reach it.

He nods at my captor. “We’re to keep Creed here until the general arrives.”

“Understood,” she replies.

I look back and forth between them. “Excuse me? What’s going on?”

The DTA official says, “The general will arrive soon.”

My stomach twists as I wonder what’s going on. I expected to be taken into custody and transported back to New Denver. Not to have a big shot from the DTA travel out here. This is really bad.

A few minutes later a thin whining sounds in the distance. Soon a shuttle appears in the sky and lands. Two burly soldiers exit first and take up post on either side of the opening. The next person out makes my stomach twist even more than I thought possible.

It’s General Anderson.

He fixes me in a stony stare, only looking away when he reaches us. “Excellent job, Lieutenant,” he says to the Space Bender.

“Thank you, sir,” she chirps.

“You are dismissed. Report back to headquarters immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” she says moments before vanishing.

General Anderson’s gaze falls on the DTA official next. “You’re also dismissed. Please assist with the memory erasure of anyone who witnessed Mr. Creed’s appearance earlier.”

The official gives a curt nod and stiffly walks toward the museum.

General Anderson’s eyes swing back to me. Seconds stretch into eternity before he says, “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Probably not. He should have known better than to come out here and stick his nose in something that doesn’t concern him.” Another familiar voice floats from somewhere behind General Anderson. A low groan escapes me before I can stifle it. It’s Professor March. This day keeps getting better and better. If my mother comes out next, I’m going to ask them to go ahead and shoot me. Professor March stops next to General Anderson. “Care to tell us what kind of havoc you’ve created?”

Despite being in this mess, I’m relieved. I didn’t do any permanent damage in 2013 if he’s asking me that. But from the looks of those two huge soldiers standing by General Anderson’s shuttle, I’ve stirred up something big. I decide to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

“Right. So you lied to your mother for no reason and come all the way to Georgia for fun? Try again,” Professor March says, folding his arms over his chest.

The way Professor March looks makes me pause. He cocks his head to the side and raises his eyebrows. What is he trying to tell me?

“Enough of the games,” General Anderson snaps. He marches up to me and stands so close I can smell stale coffee on his breath. “We used a Mind Bender to extract information from your friends. I don’t know how it’s possible, but we know somehow your father made contact with you on the Foster Assassination time trip. We know he left you a message. What we don’t know is why he did that or what year you shifted to. I’m sure you can appreciate the seriousness of your situation, so don’t lie to me.”

My mouth falls open. I’d give anything to find out how Dad kept them from witnessing him at the Foster Assassination. But that’s not even the most important thing. The fact that they’re asking me all these questions tells me that the DTA wouldn’t send another investigative team back to follow Dad while he was still alive. Meaning this isn’t considered an immediate threat to our present.

So the only way General Anderson can get answers is by questioning me. If he sent a team back without authorization, the Chronobands would record the trip and alert the DTA.

Very interesting.

Professor March adds, “Think carefully. Your future depends on it.”

A strange sensation startles me. It starts deep in my skull, a slow pressure that gradually increases. My eyes grow wider with the realization of what’s happening. A Mind Bender is trying to hack my memories. I glance around the area, but nobody else is in sight. Whoever it is has to be in the shuttle. General Anderson or Professor March must have sent a signal to the Mind Bender to search my thoughts.

Hell no. That’s not going to work.

Without closing my eyes, I concentrate on one thing—my father. He taught me to build a mental block to keep Mind Benders from extracting information. During our practice exercises, I always focused on the sound of his voice as he walked me through the steps.

Son, you’ve got to think of a mental block like it’s a real wall. Think of yourself putting up a barrier between you and the Mind Bender. Layer by layer, brick by brick. Picture the brick wall as an impenetrable fortress, one that can’t be cracked, no matter how tough the assault may be. You’ve got to be stronger than that. And you are strong. Just believe in yourself.

I’m not sure if it’ll work. Still I cling to the memory as if it’s the only source of light in a dark room. Gradually the pressure fades to a dull ache.

My eyes flick to Professor March. He gives the smallest shake of his head. I almost stop breathing. The Mind Bender will sharpen the next attempt to extract my memories.

But nothing happens.

My gaze shifts back to General Anderson and I force myself to hold his stare. “I don’t have anything to say, sir.”

His jaw clenches. “I’m giving you the chance to help yourself. Don’t make the same mistake your father did. What was Leithan doing? What year did you shift to? Why did he want you to go?”

General Anderson might as well have punched me in the stomach with those words. If I’m not mistaken, he didn’t know what my father was doing in 2013.

My mind is reeling. My father—Mr. Always-Follow-the-Rules—really had gone rogue. My hands tighten to fists.

“I see you’re not going to cooperate.” General Anderson spins on his heel and zeroes in on Professor March. “I thought you said he would cooperate if you came.”

Professor March shrugs. “I guess I was wrong.”

The general stomps toward his shuttle, barking at the soldiers, “Escort Mr. Creed to the shuttle. Now!”

As the soldiers advance toward us, Professor March looks at his hand. His fingers uncurl, and something falls to the ground. It’s a stunner. “Your father would be proud of you,” he whispers.

Time seems to have slowed to a crawl. I watch him turn and head back to the shuttle. I glance from the soldiers to the stunner. For a moment, I consider leaving it. I’m already in so much trouble. If I pick up the stunner and use it, I could be nulled if they catch me. Or even executed. I’m not sure it’s worth it.

But the game has changed. Dad wasn’t on an assignment with the DTA. He was working for someone else. Probably whoever wrote the message I found on the hidden DataDisk. General Anderson wants to know.

I want to know.

I lunge for the stunner. The soldiers look shocked for a moment, but quickly swing their stunners at me.

“Stop him!” General Anderson shouts.

My fingers close around the weapon and I swing my arm toward the soldiers. I fire repeatedly while rolling to the side. Shots whiz past me, then the soldiers slump to the ground. I scramble to my feet and aim at General Anderson.

“You’re making a big mistake,” he says, his face a bright shade of red.

I hesitate, my hand shaking again. So much for the Calmer working.

“If you do this, I will find you. And I will bury you.”

This time I fire. General Anderson joins the soldiers on the ground.

Professor March blows out a puff of air and runs a hand across his neck.

“Professor,” I begin, but he shakes his head at me. He mouths, shoot me.

My heart feels like it’s about to explode out of my body. I want to tell him I can’t, that I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to do any more damage. But he’s right. General Anderson will suspect something if I don’t shoot him. I raise the stunner again and fire.

For a few moments, I stay frozen in place. Professor March lays there, muscles jerking. Guilt floods through me. I can’t believe I shot him. I know he’ll be okay. But still, I’ve never shot anyone before today.

I lean over and dry heave, thinking I’m now a walking dead man. I’m so furing screwed.

“Hey!” I look toward the back porch of the museum. A DTA official is standing there. “Stop!”

Time for me to shift. I close my eyes and concentrate on Alora’s death date again, this time welcoming the nothingness that devours me.