The Bureau of Time (21 page)

Ryan muttered something distasteful under his breath and glared at the back of Tallon’s head.

Cassie groaned. She was already sweltering under the mid-west sun, and the desert-colored variant of their usual camo was doing little to deflect the heat. Sweat pooled against her skin, slick on her back and under her sports bra.

Shaun followed behind her, swigging from a canteen of water. She slowed to match his pace. It was too hot – and they were too on-edge – to do anything more than grimace at eachother, but his presence comforted her, pushing away her doubts and fears.

They entered the field, tall ears of corn passing them on either side. The unit followed a small dirt path toward the barn, still a quarter-mile away.

“What if Ryan’s right?” she wondered aloud, trudging down the path. The sweltering sun was giving her a headache. “What if something
is
coming? What if the Adjusters are trying to destroy the Bureau?”

The barn slowly grew larger against the clear sky, the soldiers drawn toward it.

“Brightwood is prepared for an attack,” Shaun said, wiping his forehead. “The fence is entirely anti-Temporal. Nothing can teleport inside, and if Adjusters turned up
out
side, there’s a hundred agents and operators in there, with guns and helicopters.”

“Briars is right,” Tallon called out. “There’s nothing to worry about – Zero’s just trying to get inside your head.”

Several crows circled overhead, croaking and cawing. Cassie had the unsettling thought that the birds were watching them, waiting to descend for a fresh meal.

Her headache intensified into a sharp, lancing pain, and she cried out.

She stumbled sideways, but Shaun caught her at the last moment, his grip firm around her arm. Tallon and Ryan turned around, surprised but apparently unaffected.

“Are you al—” Shaun started to say, then his knees buckled, and another powerful wave of Temporal Energy coursed through the universe.

The world flickered uncertainly, like a television changing channels.

The blue sky vanished, replaced with a thick gathering of dark clouds. Flakes of black ash drifted toward the ground; the green cornfield was blackened, and the earth pockmarked with mortar fire, massive craters blasted out of the ground. Cassie took a breath, short and startled, and sucked in a lungful of noxious smoke that burned her throat and made her eyes water.

Her eyes drifted over Shaun’s head – he was there, but Tallon and Ryan weren’t – and instead of the barn, she saw a fighter jet. The plane had collided with the ground, the wings sheared off from the impact. The jet looked like the carcass of some great ocean-faring animal beached upon a shore, picked clean by beasts – the plating had been removed, the innards exposed to the air.

Cassie saw dark figures moving among the wreckage, looking in her direction. They wore dark clothing with red sashes around their arms; she heard them shout and—

The world flickered and returned to normal.

The sky cleared, bright blue once more; the plane vanished and the barn stood tall. The ashen land was covered again with a field of corn stretching to the horizon. She staggered, just barely repressing the urge to throw up.

Shaun’s face had turned as white as his hair. “You – you saw that?”

“What the
hell
just happened?” Tallon demanded, looking between them. Ryan’s mouth hung open, his weapon half-raised, almost pointing at Shaun.

“I saw,” Cassie nodded. Her entire body trembled. The pain had lessened to a dull ache in her Affinity. T.E. swirled around them in an uneasy maelstrom, invisible to the eyes but tangible to that unnatural part of her body, the part that made her
more
than human.

“
What
did you see?” Tallon shouted. “You just – you both
vanished
for a moment!”

“We
what?
” Cassie gasped. But she knew – of course she knew.

The other world.

“Disappeared,” Ryan confirmed, his jaw clenched. “One moment you were there, the next you were gone. I can’t explain it.”

“Neither can I,” Shaun said, his voice hoarse. “There’s a lot of T.E. around here. I don’t know what’s happening. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

Tallon hesitated, surveying the farm, considering the available options. “It’s your call, Briars. Do we need backup?”

Shaun grimaced. “Don’t put that kind of decision on my shoulders.”

“You’re the ones who can feel Temporal Energy,” Tallon reminded him. “Whatever’s going on, I’ll bet you anything that the Adjusters want to know about it too.”

“We can’t pull back,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “By the time backup arrives, it will be too late.”

What
was
that?
she wondered. Shaun looked as confused as she felt.
We’ve seen something like that before – the world of snow and ash. Was it just a hallucination? No, Shaun saw it too. It was definitely real.

Shaun cursed under his breath, looking at the barn. “Whatever happened, I don’t think Adjusters caused it, but Cassie’s right. We can’t afford to lose any time. Let’s keep going.”

Tallon gave a single nod. “All right, you heard him. Form up on me.”

Clockwork moved forward, leaving the cornfield and crossing the open area around the barn. The old wooden building had clearly been built a few decades ago and had long since fallen into a state of disrepair. The roof was caved in and the walls had been weathered by the years, planks broken or missing entirely in places. The massive doors hung loosely on their barrel hinges, and a stale smell drifted out on the breeze – a mixture of hay and spray-paint.

Tallon approached the door, Clockwork forming a single line behind him.

“I’ll take point?” Shaun asked, moving into his usual position.

Tallon shook his head. “I’m going in first. Cover me.”

Shaun’s surprise registered on his face, but he didn’t say anything. Ryan breached the doors, slamming his heel into the right-hand door, which exploded in a jagged mess of splinters. Tallon flicked his tactical light on as he entered the barn, moving alongside the right-hand wall. Shaun and Cassie followed, both taking the left-hand sector.

Cassie stared down the iron sights of her carbine, her heart thundering in her chest. She flicked her weapon all over the barn – but it was empty.

“All clear!” Tallon yelled.

The inside of the barn was covered in graffiti, perhaps two decade’s worth of tagging and abstract art, mostly depicting crude swear words, obfuscated names or comic portrayals of presidents past. Old tractor tires were piled in one corner, and opposite them were storage vats covered with an olive-green tarp. The air was much cooler, the shade a welcome relief from the scorching late-July heat.

“Nothing here,” Ryan said, casting an eye over the graffiti.

Cassie reached out with her Affinity again, but she couldn’t detect anything now – just an odd, empty buzz. Even Shaun’s signature felt dull, his usual brightness dimmed inside her mind.

“Something is off,” Shaun announced, and for once, there was a tremor to his usually confident voice. “I don’t know what, though.”

“Excellent,” Ryan growled. “Guess we’ll just wait around to be ambushed again, eh?”

“That’s enough out of you, soldier,” Tallon snapped. Ryan recoiled at the snub, scowling. He stalked away, kicking his boots along the weed-covered ground.

Cassie stepped closer to the wall of graffiti, her eyes darting over the mass of overlapping drawings. Abandoned cans of spray-paint littered the ground, along with empty bottles and cigarette butts – the markings of angry runaway teenagers venting their frustrations on private property.

“Shaun…” she called out. She turned around, and yelled louder, “Shaun! Look what I found.”

He approached, following her outstretched finger. “What? I don’t see anything.”

She let out a frustrated growl and grabbed his spare hand, pointing him in the right direction.

“No…” he breathed, his eyes widening. “It can’t be a coincidence…”

“That’s what I thought,” she agreed, her heart sitting somewhere in her throat.

The words had been sprayed so large against the wall that countless other artists had buried it beneath their works – but there it was, twenty feet high and thirty feet across, consuming the entire back wall, two distinctive words:

WHITE TOWER

The ‘W’ started just above a caricature of George W. Bush and the ‘R’ ended in a Devil’s tail, snaking down through a myriad of other pictures, wrapping around the back wall of the barn and vanishing behind the storage vats. Shaun rushed toward the end of the barn, ignoring Tallon’s questions. Cassie was a step behind him and together they tore the cover off the storage containers, revealing—

“It’s just a container,” Shaun said. “For storing
corn
.”

He kicked the tarp away and stalked off, uttering a string of curses.

Nothing here,
Cassie thought, disappointed.
Just an elaborate practical joke on us all.

She poked her head around the corner, and where the Devil’s tail ended, she saw a second group of words, barely legible, hastily scrawled in white chalk and looking remarkably fresh:

BEHIND YOU

She turned, her pulse thundering in her ears, but saw nothing except the storage container. She ran her fingers around the container, feeling a rigid edge in the otherwise smooth metal, and pushed with all her might. She grunted and threw her shoulder against it—

There was a loud
crack
and a gust of stale air washed over her as the hidden door swung open, revealing a chute large enough for even one of the Bureau’s marines to fit comfortably.

Cassie fumbled with her gun and flicked the tactical light on. She leaned over and shone her light down the tunnel that sloped underneath the barn itself.

“Guys,” she called out, her voice unnaturally high. “I think I’ve found another White Tower facility.”

*     *     *

There was little discussion, and only a few arguments – they knew what they had to do, regardless of the risks.

Whatever had caused the Temporal Spike must have originated from underground, just like it had at the cement factory; it was up to Clockwork to explore the facility.

Shaun went first, taking a deep breath before slipping into the chute. Darkness consumed him, the metal tunnel leading him down at a sharp angle. He hit the ground and tumbled forward, smacking his jaw on a polished concrete floor.

“Ow,” he moaned. He Timewalked his jaw and pushed himself upright. The air was cold and stale; his tactical light revealed a small room that was barely six feet on each side, with a closed door opposite the chute.

Stamped in faded letters above the door were the words:

WHITE TOWER SAFE HOUSE FIVE.

Cassie came through next. Shaun caught her before she could fall over. Her body pressed against his, and for a moment, they were together again – then Ryan tumbled out of the chute, and they separated, her warmth lingering against his chest.

Tallon was the last one through, emerging in a low crouch. He directed his light back up the dark tunnel. “It’s too steep to climb. We’ll have to find another way out.”

“
Safe House
,” Ryan repeated, reading the sign on the wall. “But a safe house for what? Who are these people?”

“I have no idea,” Tallon answered, his voice short and clipped. He sounded nervous, uneasy. “Let’s keep moving. Weapons up, shoot anything without a face.”

Clockwork Unit moved through the underground facility, their footsteps echoing. There was no working power, though the place was clearly designed to be occupied for a long period of time. The bedrooms bore witness to an attack – mattresses shredded, sheets torn, dried blood coating the walls. The blood had turned a mottled rust color, browned with age, but there were no bodies to match the carnage.

“Jesus Christ,” Ryan murmured, looking around the room. In the contrasting light-and-shadow from the tactical lights, his faced looked haunted – and exhausted beyond his years.

This job is taking too much of our soul,
Shaun thought.
Too much blood, too few lives; too many questions and never any answers.

“Come on,” he said, putting a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Keep moving.”

The kitchen pantry was stocked with generic canned goods – mostly beans, spaghetti and SPAM. Shaun wiped a thick layer of dust from one tin, and turned it over to read the manufacturing date.

“This food is from 1989,” he said, placing the tin back on the shelf. His voice echoed loudly around the safe house.

“This was a surprise attack,” Tallon announced, gesturing to a weapons rack laden with handguns. The guns were neatly holstered, untouched. “The Adjusters must have taken them out within seconds.”

Cassie stayed close to Shaun as they moved through the base, her spare hand gripping the side of his camouflage jacket. Her presence comforted him in a way the other operators couldn’t compare with.

They crossed through patches of inky shadow, dust stirring around their ankles.

His Affinity spiked again, a needle of pain stabbing into his skull – his only warning.

The world flickered and shifted into a new reality.

Bright light flooded the safe house, coming from powerful industrial-grade lamps with thick power cords that led to a running generator. Tall figures were searching through the facility, using sledgehammers to punch through the concrete walls. They were dressed identically – black camo from head-to-toe, bulky gas masks, shotguns across their chests and a crimson sash around their arms.

“There has to be something here!” one of the figures bellowed, overseeing the destruction. “Marissa’s been on my ass for weeks now. We need to find that Gateway,
now!
”

Cassie gave a startled cry from beside Shaun, and all eyes turned to face the new arrivals. The black-clad figures shouted in surprise, raising their guns and leveling them at the Timewalkers.

“What the hell—?”

“Lower your weapons!” A man –
soldier –
gestured with his shotgun. His voice was distorted by the gasmask, his eyes bulging behind the visor. “On the ground, now!”