The Timeless Trilogy Box Set 1-3 Page 11
"Julia."
I leap back, almost tripping on my computer chair and crashing to the floor. A hand grips my forearm in the darkness and stops me.
"Simon," I breathe.
He's in my room. I'm in my pajamas. Those are the only two thoughts that make it through. "You're back?"
"Sorry," he whispers. His hot breath blows against my cheek. I can barely make out his shape next to me. "I couldn't get away from the Hub earlier or they would have noticed me missing. I still think I made my deadline."
"It's eleven thirty."
"Still the day after yesterday." He's got to be smiling. "So, I did keep my promise."
"How did you get in?" I try to sound calm, but the shock's still there in my voice.
"The front door? Monica forgot to lock it when she came in from taking out the trash. She must have gotten absorbed in her homework, because I was able to walk right in. I wasn't going to open a rift in here. Nancy or Monica could have gone through by mistake. And besides, it's hard for a single member of the Timeless to do that."
I'm not sure whether to be mad at him or whether to kiss him. "You broke into my house.”
"It was an emergency this time," he says, pulling me close. His heart beats strong as I let my ear rest on his chest. I'm definitely going to kiss him. "It's not like I'm going to stand here in the middle of the night and watch you sleep. That's creepy."
"Reminds me of a book some girls at my school read over and over."
Simon runs his hand down my back. His hand is warm through the silk of my nightgown. "Julia, I'm not going to let you find out the truth by yourself. I know you're capable of doing it, but--"
"You're here for the emotional support." I hug him tightly in case he disappears again. "Thank you."
Now my biggest fear is Nancy coming in and finding Simon on the bed next to me. Just to be extra safe, I change back into my shirt and jeans, though a pretty big part of me wants to keep the nightgown. My more logical, boring side tells me that it's not practical if I'm going to have borderline hypothermia when I wake up.
We stay over the covers with the heat in the room blasting so high. It's so dark that I can only see the paleness of Simon's bare feet next to mine. It's darker than that world on the other side of sleep that we're about to plunge into together. Literally.
"Ready?" he asks as if reading my mind.
"I suppose."
When Simon shouts my name--
"It's going to be scary when you learn the truth. I hate that you have to do it this way."
--I will know I'm dreaming.
"It's not your fault. It must be terrible not being able to talk about your old life." There's so much I want to know.
"I hate it, too." Simon's chest vibrates next to me as he speaks. "There's so much I want you to remember."
When Simon--
"And I should soon. Right?"
--shouts my name--
"Possibly." He sounds groggy next to me, and it's enough to make my eyelids droop as his heart beats next to mine.
--I'll know I'm dreaming.
“I'll help you sleep,” he says. “Are you okay if I do a mind trick on you? Just for this?” He sounds guilty, and I can't figure out why.
“Sure.”
Simon puts his hand on my forehead.
My eyelids slip shut.
I repeat it to myself.
Over and over again.
Despite the nightmare I'm about to visit, I've never felt safer. I curl up closer to him, sliding my hand across the peaks and valleys of his chest and burying my face in the crook of his neck. His pulse beats along with mine until it matches in rhythm. He smells as good as ever, like the sunny beach I keep imagining.
Soon, I might know. I let that thought lull me to sleep as Simon's breaths grow deeper and more relaxed beside me.
When--
* * * * *
April 11
We fall. It's so dark that I can't see the ground below. It's as if we’re plunging into an abyss to the bottom of the earth.
Simon's hair flies as the blackness of a huge structure races up behind him. A window shines with light as it zips by. Screams echo everywhere. The cold bites every inch of me, sucking the air from my lungs.
"Julia!" he shouts.
I blink as the world snaps into place.
I'm dreaming.
Asleep.
This isn't real.
The gold light explodes behind Simon, reaches out, and takes him. He vanishes, eyes still pleading at me to be saved. I look away from him and the sunrise closes, leaving me alone. It's the hardest thing I could do.
I brace for the impact that'll take me back to my room.
No. I have to stay here and hold on. I can't die here. Simon won't let me. He's lying beside me.
I hit bottom. The shock slams through my body like I've hit a wall.
And then I keep falling.
I kick and continue to plunge, but slower as if through liquid blackness.
I'm not dead. Not yet. I suck in a breath.
A frigid, salty brew invades my throat. I open my eyes. Bubbles explode in front of me, swarming like a cloud of angry insects. They burn as they attack my eyes.
I'm in water.
Ice stabs into me from every angle. I kick and gag my way to the surface. It's so real. I'm drowning. Freezing. Dying. I need to throw this off, scream, and wake.
I can't. This is my last chance to know.
I break the surface. Cough. Hack up the ocean and blink the sting from my eyes. The sound of splashing mixed with shrieks and cries closes in on me from all sides. Heads bob and arms flail. People swim past me as if escaping something. Names get shouted. Pleas for help and cries to God blend into the wailing all around me. I'm in a football field of thrashing, screaming bodies.
Cramps seize my ribs, my lungs. A scream fights its way out of me and I give in, joining the crowd.
I am pain.
I whirl around, kicking to stay afloat in the cold agony.
A massive shape towers over me, a black, mountainous ship that dwarfs any building I've ever seen. Despite the ocean sucking every last trace of warmth from me, I crane my neck and look up.
Light leaks from rows of windows in the hull. They might as well be bullet wounds, because the whole front half of the ship has gone under, leaving the back end standing up like a crooked skyscraper. Three massive propellers unleash waterfalls that shine in the starlight.
The stern rises higher into the night, sending groans through the air like the cries of a dying giant. People careen down the ship. They smack into gates and rails, turning into limp rag dolls as they finish their trip down to the water. Others hold on, screaming at the sky for anyone to save them. A pair of orange funnels on top of the ship lean back like they're trying to avoid the ocean that's racing up to consume them. The bottom one touches the greenish sea and gets sucked down into the crushing water around it.
The ship's lights flicker and go out, casting all in darkness and extinguishing all hope.
And then the sound starts.
The roaring. The crashing, like a million anvils are racing down. The screams of terror and agony rise in a chorus.
With an explosive crash, the rear of the ship crashes back to the ocean, broken. Walls of water rise around it and a wave races out, slamming into me like the hand of a monster and shoving me back under. More bubbles and foam force their way up my nose, into my eyes. My lungs scream for air. A glacial fist squeezes my heart. The ocean pulls me down towards my grave.
I kick.
My head breaks water and I suck air into my lungs as I return to the world of screams.
The last of the ship stands like an enormous finger pointing into the sky. It floats there, treading water for what feels like forever, and starts to make the final plunge.
I've seen enough.
"Simon!" My voice is lost among hundreds of others, floating away into the night. "Simon!" I turn in a full circle as the water sloshes and splashes a
round me, pulling the last of my life away. My limbs ache and cramp. It's getting hard to move. "Simon--"
"Julia."
I blink. He catches me from behind as I sit up and kick at the bedcovers. They're crumpled at the end of my bed from my struggles in the water, covering Simon's feet. My body's a stiff bag of ice cubes. I can't even feel Simon's healing warmth. The screams of the dying echo my head. They rip into me, forming a scar that I'll carry for the rest of my life.
"Julia. You're safe. Stay still or they'll hear."
I suck in a breath and crumple in his grasp. The screams slowly fade, but I can't stop the violent tremors racking my body.
2:20 a.m.
My clock displays the time like it has so many times before. The whole mystery of it shatters with a shriek.
I lean back into Simon, barely managing the words. "Two-twenty is the time the Titanic sank."
Chapter Twelve
"Yes," Simon says next to me, kissing me on the temple. "I'm sorry."
I barely feel Simon's kiss, but it's enough to tell me that blood is returning to my skin. The ache in my toes begins to ebb. The boa constrictor of pain slowly releases my chest.
A sob escapes me and I don't care.
I'm supposed to die in the most famous sea disaster of all time.
How could I have not figured it out until now?
How could I not have had even the slightest idea?
Simon shushes me. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he whispers, burying his face between my shoulder and my neck. "I lived it too. I wanted to tell you so badly, but Time wouldn’t let me give you anything besides stupid, vague clues.”
"You lived it.” I struggle to speak over the lump in my throat. My arms shake as if I'm back in that deadly cold water. "I didn't. I mean, I wasn't supposed to."
Because I'm not special.
Not good enough for time to want to keep me.
He lifts his face from my shoulder and manages a smile. It eases the hurt inside a little. "I had you pulled out of there right after the ship sank. You didn't stay in the nightmare long enough to see that. I don't blame you."
I hiccup and stifle back another sob. "Now you can talk about your past."
"That’s because you already know about it. Time can't stop me from that now." His warm breath is heaven against my skin, enough to take my next cry away. "Just rest a while. I'm not going anywhere." His voice hardens. "I won't let Time kill you."
We stay silent and stare into the darkness together as time stretches on and terror lurks in every corner. Screams echo every time the heating system squeaks with age. I retreat farther inside myself, trying to shut everything out except the beating of Simon's heart and his warming breath.
"You should look up as much as you can," he says as my clock turns from 3:12 to 3:13 a.m.
I jump, jarred out of my trance.
"Huh?"
"You know…on the disaster. You need to know everything about it. I insist. It'll increase your chances of survival." He sounds angry, but not at me. "You deserve to survive."
“Nancy has lots of books on shipwrecks. We could--” It hits me. “You put me with Nancy because she's so fascinated with ships. We even watched a documentary film about the Titanic last year. It didn't even ring a bell with me.” I want to slap myself. How did I have no idea after that?
“That's true. I was hoping that the three of you would watch that one, that you would see the clue.”
"How did I not know?" I ask the air instead. An incredible feeling of stupid replaces the waning horror. “It’s like the most famous disaster of all time. I should have had an idea.”
"Bad luck," he says as his hair brushes my cheek. "That's all. Time's to blame more than anything. The stupid rifts blocked all of it in your memory."
He's getting furious again. I don't blame him, but us sitting here fuming isn't going to solve anything.
I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. "I know the basics," I tell him. I recall the documentary. "The iceberg. Not enough lifeboats. All that." A giggle rises up in me. "I laugh when I'm nervous." I take a second to regain some sanity. "Nancy and I passed a display for the movie Titanic last spring. And you know what? I didn't even look twice at it. We also watched an advertisement for the 3-D version of the movie right after I started living here. You know, since they were releasing it for the anniversary of the sinking and making a big--"
I stop.
Anniversary.
Last April.
I grab Simon's hand and lead him to Nancy's study. We tiptoe past Monica's room and I push open the door. The moon's bright, making all of her model ships cast shadows on the walls. They look like dark phantoms. There's enough glow to see by. I don't have to turn on the light.
I let go of Simon's hand and face the bookshelf. Books, I can handle quite well. Nancy must have one or two on the topic.
Simon points. “A Night to Remember.”
I pick out the book and look at the cover for the first time. I can't help but cringe at the image of the Titanic leaning into the water, an iceberg in the background and the lucky survivors rowing away in boats, leaving the unfortunate to gather at the back of the ship to wait for death.
People like me.
It's only a drawing, but it's enough to make those cries of agony return in my ears. I stare down at the carpet, watching my toes splay out.
Simon wraps his arm around me and pulls me so close that I can feel him breathing. I open the book. There are no pictures here.
The Titanic struck the iceberg at 11:40 p.m. on April 14, 1912.
Sank at 2:20 a.m. on April 15.
1,500 dead.
Today is April 11.
The anniversary of the sinking is three days from now.
That's when the Timeless are going to make another attempt to send me back, when it will be easiest to open a rift. The anniversary will form a link to my real past even stronger than that song at the dance or Eric falling into the pond.
That’s when I’m dead. Isabel couldn't have warned me about anything else.
Simon pulls me to his side. I'm shaking. I can’t be tough anymore.
"We have to fight, Julia," he says. "I don't care what Time or fate says should happen to you, or what we have to go through to make sure we both survive together."
"I don't believe in fate." I say it before I realize it.
"I don't, either. We need to make sure you have the biggest chance possible of escaping this."
A chance. No guarantees. Of course. "Time's going to make me forget all about the present if I go back, won't it? You know, because I can't take memories from time to time? So this won't do me any good if I do get sent back." An awful blackness settles over me, invading, filling the space under my heart. "How on earth is this supposed to help me?"
"There will be a loophole, Julia. I promise. You'll know it when the time comes." He lets out a breath. I can feel the tension in it. "Trust me. You do have a chance."
I clench my jaw. I speak with caution, keeping my words level. "I know that time has to be protected, but Simon, I want to go to college and do something with my life and not disappear and have Nancy go crazy worrying about me." I tumble into his arms.
I'm breaking down.
He accepts me, wrapping me in his warmth. Simon slides his hands over mine, holding them in place over my navel. We stand for minutes among dead ships and ghostly paintings.
Simon lowers his voice. "I wish Time would die. Really, I do."
"I know."
And that's why I love you.
"You have no idea how many horrible things happened in history that could have gone better. Is there even a point to what the Timeless do? Why did it choose me for this out of everyone else?"
I listen to the air rush into his lungs. It's so ordinary and alive. There's another question burning in there. It's in his heartbeat, wanting to burst out.
Why did it choose me and leave you to die?
We retreat to bed, still careful to sta
y over the covers. We're silent, breathing together slower and slower until we reach a steady rhythm. Simon wraps his arm around the back of my shoulders, letting me use his arm as a pillow as I stare at the patterns in the ceiling, trying to make some sense of them.
There is none.
Simon doesn't stir until the first of the sun turns the sky into burnt salmon. The coffeepot hisses and sputters to life. A light switch flips on. A chair squeaks as it slides across the linoleum in the kitchen. Nancy's up.
Simon sits up from the bed, blinking the lack of sleep from his eyes.
"Don't leave," I beg, hating how desperate I sound.
"I won't be far," he tells me, nodding his promise. "Frank and Isabel are going to wait until the anniversary now to try anything. Otherwise, Isabel wouldn't have given you a choice on whether to go with her or not. They won't attack you until then.”
"We should get out of town. Until the anniversary's over."
Simon grips the windowsill and stares down at the floor, bracing himself to say something else. "You're right. But we need to move quickly. The Timeless track people well," he says. "And so does Time itself. Once it has your code--well, your genetic code--it's hard to escape. I'm sure it knows you from the first time I took you through the Hub. It was something we couldn’t prevent."
"Great." I try to sound casual as I shrug and let my hands slap on my jeans.
Inside, I'm screaming. I feel like a tagged animal running through the woods with barking hounds on my trail.
"It was the only way to get you out of that water." Simon sighs and picks at the blanket between us.
"I understand. You did all you could." I sound dead. Cold. "I'm sure I dropped a hair or two while I was in the corridors. Not your fault."
"I think that’s what happens. At least, that's how the whole tracking thing worked with me," he says, fast to change the subject. "Someone must have taken a sample of my skin or hair before that awful night and taken it to the Hub. That's how Time found me and pulled me through at the moment of the sinking. I've never learned who could have done it." He rubs his hand through his brown strands as if searching for a missing piece. "If we try to leave, they might still find us. You might be even more vulnerable if you leave home. Spend time with Nancy and Monica. You might have to leave them for a while."