Edge of Time (17 page)

“I'll get you some soup or something,” Alec grumbled. Riley looked so weak and helpless. He almost ached with wishing he could help. “I'm warning you, though, I'm a lousy cook.”

“Thanks.” Darius managed a weak smile before he closed his eyes again and settled against his pillow. The orb's glow strengthened, filling the room with a comforting light.

Alec closed the door behind him.

Darius was too optimistic. It took more than a week for Riley's ankle to heal well enough for her even to put weight on it, and several days after that for her to walk. Day after day, hour after hour, Darius lay weakly beside her, his orb pulsing softly in the curtained twilight, neither of them stirring. For the first two days, Alec was nearly out of his mind with worry. Darius was too weak to do more than sit up for a mouthful of food. Every ounce of energy he had went into healing Riley's ankle.

Other than brief moments to be carried to the bathroom and swallow a painkiller, Riley barely woke up until the third day. Her ankle swelled horribly and the bruising and discolouration went almost halfway to her knee before whatever Darius was doing started to work. Alec spent endless hours lying on the sofa across from the bedroom door or pacing the scuffed wooden floor, listening to her moans and feeling helpless and exposed. He couldn't rest. Every sound seemed excessively loud and a dozen times a night he was sure armed troops were driving up the lane. Several times helicopters
whumped
overhead, and the second afternoon the endless drone of heavy trucks had lasted until darkness. But his worst fears did not come to pass. Riley's ankle began to heal, Darius slowly re-gathered his strength and no one came banging on the door, guns drawn.

Once Darius was on his feet, the anger simmering beneath Alec's skin started to erupt with increasing frequency. Every worrisome issue he'd tried to keep out of his thoughts vied for space in his already crowded mind: his brother was missing; his parents were in danger; he had a dangerous power burning beneath his skin he had no idea how to control; Rhozan wanted him.

Why weren't they
doing
something?

He began having nightmares again, the same ones that had started the night of his concussion. He knew it was stupid not to tell someone, but the last thing he wanted was Riley thinking he was a child.

Once Riley was over the worst of her injury, Darius insisted that they both continue the lessons they'd begun at Home Base. Darius still refused Alec direct access to an orb, telling him that Rhozan would feel the connection and instantly know where they were. What was even more annoying was that, despite their hours of lessons together, Riley was just as indifferent to him as she had been when they first met. The second Darius indicated the lesson was over, she'd snatch her hand away and hop one-footed to the rocking chair, gingerly raising her swollen ankle to the footrest and sighing with profound relief. She seldom talked to him in anything but scathing tones and rarely caught his eye. What had he done to her to make her treat him like he had some kind of contagious disease, anyway?

He started spending more and more time outside, digging up vegetables, mowing the lawn, anything to be physically exhausted at the end of the day. He never saw anyone during his labours, only the occasional plane cutting its way through the clouds or the rumble of a distant truck that gave him any reassurance the world outside the farm was still there. He'd turned to the television for comfort but the stupid thing wouldn't work, and even after hours of fiddling with its innards, he couldn't make it produce a picture worth looking at. He'd started listening to the radio whenever indoors.

One morning, Darius sprawled on the cushions next to Alec and rested his feet on the armrest. He clasped his fingers together behind his head and stared at the plastered ceiling while the news program time signal chimed.

With the sound of the announcer's voice, Riley hobbled in from the kitchen. She dropped into the rocking chair by the wood stove and started to creak back and forth. Alec tried to ignore her.

“… And in devastating news from the East Coast where the violence, so pervasive in Ontario, has started to rise, reports indicate that weapons' fire from our own naval forces frigates hit the downtown early this morning. A spokesperson for the Canadian navy issued a brief statement this morning: ‘Unauthorized use of weaponry by several military personnel resulted in torpedo fire from the HMCS
St. John's
at oh-five-twenty-eight this morning. Approximately six torpedoes were launched towards the downtown Halifax area, resulting in serious damage and multiple casualties. The perpetrators have been apprehended and a full military investigation is underway.' Few details are available. At the moment, we know that several buildings in the business area of Halifax are on fire and the premier has declared a state of emergency. Citizens are urged to–”

Darius shut off the radio with a sharp twist of his wrist. He glanced at Riley. She was pale and unmoving in the rocking chair, her eyes staring straight ahead. It was only when Darius crossed over the floral carpet and sank to his knees in front of Riley, pulling her hands into his, that Alec made the connection.

“Your house is out in the country. I'm sure your dad is fine,” Darius said.

“The hospital is downtown.” Her voice trembled. “He's often there all night.”

“They would have said if the hospital had been hit,” Darius said. “Don't grieve about something you don't know for certain.”

Riley said nothing. She turned to Alec. For a second, her gaze seemed to connect with his, but the pain reflected in her dark blue eyes was too much. He dropped his gaze to his knees and when he'd gathered the resources to face her again, she was already on her feet.

“I think I'll go to bed,” she said. “I'm tired.”

“It's lunchtime,” Alec blurted. “You just got up.”

Riley didn't even look in his direction. Stiff-backed, she headed for her bedroom.

Darius gave Alec a pointed look. “She's pretty upset,” he said.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Alec muttered.

“She could use a bit of human kindness,” Darius suggested.

“Couldn't we all,” Alec said.

Darius gave an impatient sigh. “Alec, why don't you–”

Alec bounded off the sofa, leaving Darius' question hanging in the air. He carried his plate to the kitchen and dropped it in the sink. He was not going to follow Riley into her room and put his arm around her. Wild horses couldn't drag him in there and leave him open to one of her scathing comments.

Darius followed him and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. Alec could feel his eyes burning into his shoulders, but he made a pretence of getting ready to wash the dishes.

“You constantly wonder how to get women to find you attractive, and yet, a golden opportunity lands in your lap and you run in the opposite direction. For heaven's sake, Alec, how do you expect to gain any sort of sexual experience with women, outside of the Internet, if you're afraid to be in the same room?”

Alec viciously squirted the liquid soap into the sink.

“She's in there crying.”

Alec turned on the water with a jerk of his wrist.

“She's desperately hoping you come in to check on her.”

Alec swirled the water ferociously to create bubbles.

“She likes both of us. You could tip her affections in your favour with one easy move, Alec.”

There was a long silence while Alec furiously scrubbed the plates and cups from lunch and breakfast. Finally, he heard Darius' footsteps back into the living room.

He heard the soft knock on Riley's door a moment later. A searing stab of jealousy burned his chest before he threw the dishcloth into the sink and stormed outside to do a thousand push-ups.

If they didn't leave the farmhouse soon, he was going to go right out of his mind. Every minute that passed was another minute closer to Rhozan finding his parents and killing them. Every minute close to Riley was torture trying to guard his tongue from spilling how he felt. Every minute practicing a skill he wasn't actually allowed to do, but somehow had to master, was driving him up the wall. If Darius didn't let them start off for Toronto by tomorrow morning, Alec decided, he was going to go himself.

And no one was going to stop him.

R
iley switched off the radio and lay back on the bed, a sick feeling gurgling around in her stomach, like it was exam time and she'd completely forgotten to study. Except worse.

The entire radio broadcast was now taken over with constant updates of road closures, new rules of conduct, military crackdowns and edicts by the prime minister, all amounting to a picture of mass hysteria and confusion. Rhozan was doing a great job.

Riley rolled onto her side and stared blankly at the panelled wall opposite. It was so stupid, just staying here, practicing with the orbs, and monitoring the outside world as it went down the toilet. Alec was right. They should be
doing
something.

Alec. She was
not
going to think about him. He was a kid. She was not. End of story. Darius, on the other hand, was older, experienced and the most attractive man she'd ever met. As if he were reading her thoughts again, the bedroom door swung open and Darius poked his head through. “You want to do something? Then get up and grab something to wear out of the closet. We're leaving.”

Alec was standing by the bay window, his arms crossed and a mutinous expression plastered across his face when she walked in. Darius was in the kitchen pulling cans down from the cupboard and dropping them into a canvas rucksack.

“Where exactly are we going?” she asked the room in general.

“Toronto,” Darius replied. He pulled the drawstrings tight on the bag and placed it on the counter before rooting in the next cupboard.

“Walking?” Riley scoffed.

“Actually, we are.” Darius pulled out a Tetra Pak of milk from the pantry and squinted at the best-before date.

“You've got to be kidding. You're back to normal, aren't you? Can't you just,” she snapped her fingers, “take us there?”

“Have I significantly regenerated my power? Mostly. Am I going to risk setting off a huge signal to Rhozan that we're on our way? Not likely. We're sneaking up on him, not taking out an advertisement that we're coming.”

This didn't make sense. They were at least a couple of hundred kilometres from their destination. It would take weeks to walk that far, never mind probably wrecking her ankle completely. Alec's parents were sure to be dead by then. Riley glanced over at Alec's stiff back. Obviously he'd come to the same conclusion.

“We're not walking the entire distance, at least I hope not,” Darius said. “This farm isn't too far from a village. There's a map in the desk drawer over there. I figure there will be some mode of transportation we can avail ourselves of, and hasten the journey significantly.”

Riley translated. “You want us to steal a car.”

“Yup.”

“Are you out of your mind? Haven't you heard a word on the radio? The military is everywhere. The penalty for theft is immediate incarceration. There are prison camps being set up all over the place to deal with looters and arsonists. And you want us to steal a car?”

“Yup.”

“You've lost your marbles.”

“We have no choice. I cannot use Tyon power to bring us closer to Alec's apartment. Rhozan will follow the energy signature and be waiting when we materialize. We can't stay here. Eventually, the minimal power we're using by touching the orbs will be noticed, if it hasn't been already, and Rhozan will show up. Haven't you heard the helicopters overhead? Any worries who might be inhabiting the pilot, hmm?”

Riley hadn't given a thought to the idea of Rhozan using soldiers as Emissaries, but now that she did, she shuddered. There were thousands of military personnel tramping across Southern Ontario and all of them armed. “But we have orbs and he's afraid of them, isn't he?”

Darius carried his knapsack and a plastic bag with the last of the supplies into the living room. “Orbs won't be much good if thirty soldiers show up at the door with automatic weapons, Riley. Sure, we think the Others fear the orbs and that's why they're so focused on destroying anyone who can use one, but we're not a hundred percent sure.”

Alec said nothing. He merely brushed past her and stomped into the bedroom he shared with Darius, slamming the door behind him.

“What's with him?” Riley stared at the closed door. Alec had been grouching all week about getting a move on and heading out to rescue his family. Now that they were, he was in a huff. And they thought
girls
were hard to understand.

No one spoke as they tramped down the rutted driveway to the dirt road beyond. The sun was out and the air already warming uncomfortably. A breeze caressed the upmost branches, emitting a faint moaning sound, but didn't blow low enough to give any respite from the humidity. Riley wiped the sweat off her brow and tried to ignore her ankle. The unpaved road was more uneven than it looked and several times she'd slipped. Though she'd not fallen, it was enough to jar her newly knitted bones.

Before lunchtime, they found a pickup truck parked haphazardly in the front garden of an A-framed cottage with gingerbread trim. Darius crept forward to peer in through the ground floor window. He straightened up and walked back to them, a look of disgust on his face.

“What?” Riley asked.

“An example of why gun control is so vital to any country,” Darius replied curtly. Alec gave a considering glance at the house, but Darius stopped him before he'd taken a step. “Don't go looking in the windows, Alec.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is not one of your video games. There are real people in there who have really blown each other's heads off, and despite your belief that you're totally cool with death in a million forms, I'm assuring you that reality is much worse than pretend.” Darius squinted at the standard gearshift with mild concern. “Can you drive this, Riley?”

“If it has wheels and an engine, I can drive it.” Eyes carefully avoiding the house, she walked around to the driver's side and clambered up into the dirty cab. She reached up and pulled the keys down from the visor with a little smile. Honestly, what idiots left the keys in their truck?

“I can drive, too,” Alec muttered. He was giving the house an intent stare, as if weighing the distance to the window and Darius' ability to stop him.

“Unfortunately, you're underage. Riley isn't. She's also a much better liar than you are and will probably be able to convince any military checkpoint we come across that this is indeed her truck and she has every right to drive it.”

Riley startled. Twisting the truth so it would fit her needs was a lot more accurate.

“You just like her more.” Alec turned on Darius. His cheeks were red and his eyes blazing. “That's the reason you butter her up all the time. You want to get in her–”

Smack.

Darius dropped his hand and stood entirely still. Alec raised his hand, almost unbelievingly, to his cheek.

“Don't
ever
suggest that I would take advantage of Riley,” Darius said in a low and cutting voice. “I am now her Guardian and there are rules in place for any relationship between us that I could
never
break. If I praise her efforts, it is because, unlike you, she recognizes the utmost seriousness of our situation and has tried her best to learn what I'm teaching. You, on the other hand, still seem to think this is a game. It's not, Alec. It's real. Get your head out of your butt and focus. We're all going to die unless you learn to control the power inside you. Got that?”

Riley swallowed. What did Darius mean that their lives were dependent on Alec?

Alec took a step backwards. His eyes were blazing and his hands balled into fists. “Sometimes,” he growled, “I hate you.”

“Yes, I'm very aware of it. But what you fail to realize is that
that
is exactly what Rhozan is looking for. You're handing him his victory on a plate, Alec.”

“What're you talking about? I'm trying to fight him,” Alec yelled.

“Are you?” Darius took a step closer. “Really? You're in control of yourself, keeping your temper curbed, focusing on the task at hand? Or, are you so self-centred that your misery spills out of you like poison, and you burn with jealousy and hatred. Even though Anna warned you that your temper could destroy everything. Even though Logan planned to kill you because of it?” He took another step and Alec backed away. “Hatred, envy, self-pity – everything Rhozan wants and needs. How in the world will you fight him, Alec, when everything you think and feel feeds him and makes him stronger?”

Nearly an entire minute passed in tense silence before Alec stammered, “It's not, I mean, we won't. It's not up to me.”

“It is.” Darius drew himself up to his full height. Riley couldn't see his face, but his words had never been so hard. “It always has been. Grow up, Alec.”

There was dead silence. Alec's fists tightened. His jaw clenched. Several heartbeats passed. Then he turned on his heel and faced the house. Riley felt her own eyes welling up as waves of his emotions slammed into her, and she turned away to focus on the mailbox at the end of the drive. By the time her vision cleared, Alec had jumped up into the cab. Wordlessly, he fastened his seatbelt before crossing his arms and staring out the windshield.

Darius slammed the door shut behind him and did up his own seatbelt as Riley turned over the engine and engaged first gear. Smiling slightly, she turned the truck around and headed back to the dirt road.

The next several hours passed without incident. Darius consulted a map found in the glove compartment and encouraged Riley to stay off the main thoroughfares. Alec slumped between them, sulking and silent. They passed through several small towns but saw very few people. Whoever was still around seemed to be obeying the government's orders to stay out of sight.

It was Riley who forced an eventual halt. Darius suggested stopping at the side of the road, but Riley was not squatting in the bushes while Alec laughed. They'd find a donut shop with a proper bathroom. There was one every two kilometres in Canada, she argued. Sure enough, they came across one within minutes. There were several cars in the parking lot, but no one in the store. And no donuts, either.

Riley had to move garbage out of her way to get into the ladies' room. The water was still running but the lights were broken. Swallowing her embarrassment, she left the door open a crack so she could see.

She was just washing her hands when she heard the noise. Her stomach dropped to her knees. Had Darius changed his mind and followed her in? As quietly as possible, she turned off the water and wiped her hands on her borrowed jeans. She peeked out.

Dressed in worn coveralls with “Al” embroidered on the breast pocket, the man wasn't much taller than Riley, but several times wider. Even from this distance, Riley could see his empty eyes. Prickles sprang to life all over her body. An Emissary.

Riley's hand plunged into her pocket for her orb. The only way out was straight past him.

She could hear his laboured wheezes. Maybe he'll keel over from a heart attack, she thought as she silently pulled the door closed and waited in the dark, heartbeats almost choking her. Nothing happened for ages. A sudden crash, somewhere near the kitchen, made her jump back from the door.

Truck
.

The thought arrived suddenly. It took a moment to realize that Darius was sending instructions. Opening the door a crack, she peered out. The shop appeared empty. Pulling the door open wider, she tiptoed out into the tiny hall and leaned against the wall, looking around the corner as far as possible.

No one.

The store had two exit doors. If she headed for the more direct path to their vehicle, it meant crossing the wide expanse of the floor and being in direct view of anyone hiding in the food preparation area. If she chose the closer option, she'd have to run outside around the shop to reach the truck.

Riley bit her lip. Both choices sucked. She chose the exit closer to the truck.

Gathering her courage, she sprinted across the floor and dove at the door, jamming the unlocking bar down with both hands and pressing hard. It didn't move. She pressed again and again, but the door refused to open. Someone, and no need to guess who, had broken the locking mechanism.

Riley whirled around just as the Emissary approached the serving counter.

“Get away from me!” she shouted, yanking as hard as she could at the door. Shaking, she pulled out her orb and held it up so he could see it.

“I have a message for you,” Al said.

“I have nothing to say to you,” she panted.
Hurry up, Darius.

“Rhozan wishes the suffering of this people to end.” The monotone voice was incongruous with the little man and Riley wasn't sure if she was hearing his voice or Rhozan's. Did alien field marshals speak of themselves in the third person?

“Really? He's caused all this grief, you ass. He's
enjoying
it.”