Authors: Susan M. MacDonald
A
lec pulled apart the sealed opening to a bag of all-dressed chips and helped himself to a mouthful of breakfast. Sure, it wasn't the sort of meal his mother would approve of, but he was starving. And besides, in Toronto, it was afternoon. Or at least it had been an hour ago.
Alec was still trying to get his head around everything. They'd been attacked, some kids had been killed and his own brother was now missing. In addition, he'd somehow brought everyone to Nova Scotia. And changed time.
Without even trying
.
It was both deeply weird and strangely pleasing. Weird, because having a power you couldn't feel, never mind control, was rather scary; pleasing, because Darius looked pretty impressed and Riley had been shocked and probably jealous. Part of his brain kept running over and over what had happened in the bunker. The other part of his mind was trying to keep up with what was going on around him.
Beside him, Bjorn prattled on about ratios and oil pressure while swinging a grocery bag he'd taken from Alec only a moment before, seemingly unmindful that that particular carrier held several bottles of carbonated drinks. Alec only partly listened. He hoped that Bjorn's motorboat would be one of those massive yachts all around them, with tons of sumptuous accessories. The guys would be totally jealous when he got back home after all this was over.
Bjorn turned down a narrow gangway, leading past several boats, finally stopping near the end of the jetty. He pointed to the right. “That's her. The
Inga
.”
Alec swallowed his disappointment. She was a dull, yellowish houseboat, with peeling paint and rust-stained metal fittings. She seemed forlorn, dwarfed by her more glamorous neighbours.
“Come on aboard.” Bjorn cheerily led the little party towards wooden planking. The side of the boat rubbed up against several tractor tires looped against the jetty. It was an easy step down onto the deck.
“Come on, Riley,” Darius said firmly.
Alec turned and looked. Riley had a mutinous look on her face, and was standing arms crossed and legs locked against further movement. “I told youâ” she started.
“
Riley
.” Darius' hand went to his jacket pocket.
“Don't make me.” It came out like a whimper and Alec knew from the sudden grimace that she hadn't wanted to sound so weak. He turned his back and pretended not to hear.
“I can and I will.” Darius' voice had a hard edge.
Bjorn ducked through the opening into the galley-cum-cabin of what was instantly obvious as his home and Alec followed. A wide futon sofa lined the starboard side of the cabin; cupboards, countertops and kitchen appliances lined the port. A heavy table was bolted to the middle of the floor. A captain's chair was positioned in front of a wide bank of instruments under a row of windows forward of the living quarters. Everywhere, the detritus of a single man's life littered the cabin: clothes dropped onto the floor, crumpled newspapers all over the futon, an unfinished meal on the table.
Bjorn grabbed the books off the table and dumped them into a locker built under the sofa. He gave an apologetic smile as he swept the dishes away. “I made all of the modifications myself.”
“It's impressive,” Darius said politely. “Perhaps you wouldn't mind showing me the controls?”
“Don't,” shouted Riley, hovering in the doorway, one foot still outside on the deck.
Darius gave her a sharp look. “Sit down and be quiet.”
Slowly, she entered the cabin and crossed to the sofa. She sat on the edge and gritted her teeth.
“Please.” Darius held out his hand, indicating the instrument panel. Bjorn nodded.
Alec stuffed another handful of chips into his mouth and chewed contentedly as he inspected the framed photos of sailing yachts along the wall.
“What the hell are you so happy about?” Riley muttered.
Alec glanced down. “Nothing.”
“He's using you,” she said, her eyes darting towards Darius, now deeply immersed in conversation. “You're just a pawn in some game he's playing.”
Alec swallowed and took another handful, giving himself something to do until he'd thought of what to say. Cute girls always made his tongue tie up in knots.
“He's lying to you. Don't you get it? Telling you you're so special.” Riley's voice was so low he almost couldn't hear her.
“It's not a game,” Alec said slowly. “It can't be. You saw what I did.”
“Huh. I have no proof you did anything. Only Darius said you did, and I don't trust him as far as I can throw him.”
“How'd we get here then? Air Canada? How'd time go backwards?” Alec licked the seasoning off his fingers and dropped the half-eaten bag onto the table. He leaned back, looking directly at Riley. “Where'd my brother go? Who were those people who tried to kill me? If you've got another explanation, I'd love to hear it.”
“I don't. Yet.” Riley scowled. “But the minute I do, you'll be the first to know.”
“If you don't like it with us, then go. I'm not gonna stop you.”
The engine of the boat roared to life, then dropped to a thrumming that rose up through the floor and vibrated into their feet. Riley got paler.
“Look, please, you've got to help me,” she whispered. “I don't want to be a part of this. I want to go home.”
“Yeah, I doubt the going home part,” Alec said. The memories of her suddenly rose up inside him. He'd
been
her, just for a second. In a dream. Or was it real? He couldn't remember.
Riley stood up, her small hands gripped his upper arms, and a look of frank pleading and vulnerability spread over her face. She gave him a little shake. “Help me get off this boat.”
Alec shook himself away from her. She smelled too good this close. He glanced over at Darius, who was listening attentively as Bjorn pointed something out in the marina. Any minute they'd be casting off. An annoyed Darius was an unknown quantity, but on the other hand, it was pretty hard to look into Riley's navy blue eyes and refuse her. Maybe, if he helped her, she'd like him better. And if she liked him â¦
“Come on,” he said quietly. He walked over to the doorway and leaned out. The
Inga
was straining away from the dock, seawater and refuse roiling with the thrust of the propellers. No one was walking on the jetty. In fact, the place seemed surprisingly deserted for such a beautiful, summer day. “You jump off and run. I'll slow him down.”
She was shaking, Alec noticed. He gave her a little shove. “Go on.”
Riley took a deep breath. Screwing her face up as if she were about to climb Mount Everest, she propelled herself forward. Two quick steps and she was over the side of the
Inga
and sprinting down the jetty. For someone so tiny, she was admirably fast.
“Hey!” Darius shouted.
Alec blocked the doorway but Darius brushed him easily aside and knocked him over. He leapt over the gunwale and disappeared down the gangway before Alec landed in a heap.
Alec rubbed a hand across his forehead, surprised at the force of Darius' reaction. Behind him, Bjorn stood silently beside the captain's chair, a blank look on his face.
“Don't worry, I'm fine,” Alec muttered as he pulled himself to his feet. He glanced up at the sound of a strangled squawk. A moment later, Darius appeared with Riley unceremoniously slung over his shoulder. He crossed the several metres to the boat with impatient strides, brushed past Alec without a word and dumped Riley onto the sofa.
“Sit,” he ground out.
Riley opened her mouth to speak, but Darius shouted “Silence!” before she could utter a sound. She grabbed at her throat and retched. Bjorn seemed to come back to life. Both he and Darius left the cabin and walked around to the bow of the boat. A moment later, they were heading aft.
The rope holding the
Inga
to the wharf arced through the sky to land in a heap on the jetty. Darius dashed back inside the cabin and deftly took the wheel. Bjorn held the rope in his hand and leapt off the
Inga
, landing easily on the wharf. Slowly, the houseboat pulled away from the jetty.
Alec grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself as the little craft rocked uneasily. Darius switched gears and the engine roared.
Alec ran over to the doorway and leaned out. The sharp salt spray blurred his vision for a second and the breeze, growing as the boat's speed increased, whipped his hair into his face, but even so, Bjorn didn't appear even aware that they were leaving him behind.
The
Inga
entered the open harbour and swung starboard. Darius opened up the engine and the boat strained forward. For several minutes, no one said anything. Riley was rocking back and forth on the futon looking stricken. Darius was absorbed in navigating the small craft out of the harbour towards the open ocean. Alec was frozen in disbelief.
Riley had been right all along.
A
lec sat down on the sofa beside Riley, unsure of what to do while Darius ignored them both and steered the houseboat beyond the safety of the harbour. Riley leaned back and closed her eyes, every line of her body screaming to be left alone.
There wasn't anything Alec could do. Jumping overboard didn't seem like a reasonable option. Within minutes they were far out in choppy water, filled with huge seagoing vessels that would easily mow down a tiny body bobbing in their path. There wasn't a phone to call the police and no sign of the Coast Guard. And besides, every time he tried to stand up and head outside to the deck an incredible sense of “not wanting to” washed over him, making him shiver. Only keeping still abated the sensation. Was Darius using some kind of weird mind control on him?
Alec rooted through the crumpled newspapers on the futon for something to do. It was the morning edition, he noted, the same day he'd been grabbed in Toronto. That meant that he had yet to go missing at home. Or did it? Could he be in both places at the same time, or was he not at home right now? And if he weren't at home now, how would he be kidnapped in order to end up here? Unable to figure out the rapidly confusing mess of time travel, he perused the sports section. It wasn't until he finished that and the entertainment news that he bothered with the headlines:
Riots in Toronto, Unprecedented Violence
.
The story went on to list several shootings, a looting of a mall overnight and multiple attacks on the subway system. The chief of police threatened a curfew. Some grey-bearded professor at the University of Toronto spouted on about economic unrest fueling the public's anger and Alec found himself grinning grimly at the photo. It wasn't economics. It was Rhozan. Whoever he was.
Darius slowed the engine down and hooked a small rope to the steering wheel, effectively locking the steering in place. He stalked over to the table, not quite so easy to do with the boat rocking back and forth, and began opening the bags of food. “We all need to eat something.”
“I'm not hungry,” Riley said, pouting.
“Tough. You're going to eat this even if I have to jam it down your throat.” Darius didn't sound like he meant it. The anger seemed to have melted away as quickly as it had surfaced. He pulled out the two bottles of cola with a definite gleam in his eye, and set them down beside the fruit, bread, paté and cheese. “Alec, get a few plates and glasses.”
No, thought Alec, as hard as he could.
“No need to yell,” Darius replied conversationally. He squinted at the tiny writing on a small bottle. “This is made in France,” he said to himself. “No wonder it's expensive.”
“You read my mind,” Alec accused him. There was no denying it now. “Didn't you?”
“Of course.” Darius shrugged.
“Can all you aliens read our minds?”
“Hmm, no. And, I told you, I'm not an alien.” Darius unscrewed the lid of the jar and stuck a finger into the drab yellow contents. He pulled it out and sucked off the mustard. “Yuck, this is awful. Riley, eat something.”
Riley wiped the tear from her face, smearing the black track into an unbecoming smudge. “I'm not hungry.”
“You are. There are other methods of proving your general dissatisfaction than self-starvation. You are not your sister.”
“Leave me alone.” But a loud grumbling of her stomach compromised the strength of her argument. Alec smothered his grin and began rooting in the untidy cupboards for glasses.
Humming to himself, Darius began dividing up the crusty bread and the cheese.
“Can you teach me to read minds?” Alec asked. This could be a useful skill, if he could learn it before escaping.
“Sorry, no.” Darius placed several slices of cheese on a plate already laden with several thick slabs of bread and a large bunch of grapes and handed it to Alec.
“Why not?”
Darius shrugged and popped a grape into his mouth. He spoke while chewing. “You don't have the gift. It's not something you can learn. You either have it or you don't. Like Riley.” He handed her a plate of food, then picked up a bottle of soda and began to unscrew the top.
“Stop!” yelled Alec, but it was too late. The excessive swinging had stirred up the carbonated liquid magnificently. Cola spewed in all directions.
Darius yelped, dropped the bottle and jumped back like a scalded cat.
Riley got to it first. With a quick twist of her wrist she closed the cap and carried the bottle at arm's length. She stepped onto the deck and carefully held the bottle over the side while she removed the lid. Excess soda foamed over the neck. Once finished she returned inside.
Darius was mopping his face and shirt with a rag that wasn't much cleaner. He raised his eyebrows. “I suppose you enjoyed that?”
Riley shrugged a thin shoulder but didn't smile. She handed him the bottle and sat back down on the couch, pulling her plate onto her lap. She picked up a grape. “Where exactly are we going?”
“Newfoundland.” Darius didn't seem to notice Riley's wide-eyed stare or hear Alec's gasp of surprise. He was carefully pouring himself a tall glass of cola. He took a tentative sip and sighed with profound appreciation.
“Newfoundland? You've got to be joking.” Riley jammed a hunk of cheese into her mouth, seemingly oblivious to what she was doing. “What on earth is in Newfoundland that you want?'
“Home Base,” Darius replied. “We needed somewhere near the two main locations of Potentials: Ireland and Canada. Also somewhere off the beaten track but close enough to civilization so we can come and go without raising attention. Newfoundland has lots of little uninhabited islands. It's perfect.” He took another swallow, then another. He drained the glass and poured one more. “This stuff is really good. I never got to have this before I left Earth.”
“Newfoundland is about a thousand kilometres from here, across a famously treacherous sea. And we're in a
houseboat
, you idiot,” Riley gasped.
“I don't have the time or the energy to regen enough to transport both of you,” Darius explained. “In case you've forgotten, we were attacked recently and Anna and I had to fight off the Others, which happens to take a lot of energy. Add to that trying to control the teleport of a completely untrained and nearly unmanageable Potential,” he gave a pointed look at Alec, “
and
enough mind control to hold your former boss in check, give us this boat and stop him from calling the police. Alec doesn't have any ID for an airplane trip and I don't have access to funds right at the moment.”
“We could be killed out here.” Riley shot to her feet.
“We
would have been
killed if we'd stayed in Halifax. They're following us, in case you haven't noticed. Every time we use an orb, Rhozan knows it.”
“How do you know that?” Riley demanded.
“The Others fear orbs. They can't control the power of one. But they certainly seem to know when we use them.” Darius grabbed onto the edge of the table as the little boat lurched sickeningly to port for a moment. Riley did likewise. Alec wasn't quick enough and he fell over in a heap, dropping his last slice of cheese to the floor. It was only as he pulled himself upright that he noted that far off on the distant horizon, dark clouds were nastily piling up.
“Uh, Darius,” Alec said.
“Just a sec.” Darius had his attention on Riley. “So keep your hands off your orb. Just touching it can send a signal.”
Alec yanked his hand off his own orb with a pang of guilt. He'd gotten into the habit of mindlessly fiddling with it because it seemed to soothe him.
“You have no idea how to pilot this boat, do you?” Riley's cheeks were blotched with fire and her eyes snapped dangerously. “It's not like taking a cab across town, Darius. The ocean is a dangerous and unpredictable place.”
As if to emphasize her words, the houseboat lurched again.
“Darius, the weather,” Alec said, this time more loudly.
All three of them looked up and out over the bow of the ship. Far ahead, the sky was darkening ominously. Whitecaps dotted the undulating surface. A cold spray of seawater splashed over the bow and speckled the front window.
Darius frowned. He strode over to the steering wheel and unhooked the rope, taking control of the vessel himself. “Better look for lifejackets. We may need them.”
Alec's stomach dropped to his ankles. Riley looked just as worried as she dropped to her knees and began rooting through the cupboards under the sofa. Alec headed to the back of the cabin and yanked open the door to the small storage room. The search took seconds. Nothing. Disgruntled, he slammed the door shut and leaned against it. “Any luck?” Alec asked.
“Does it look like it?” Riley banged her head on the handle of a pot as she rose to her feet. “I don't think he's cleaned the place. Ever.”
Darius was holding the wheel with both hands now. The wind was rising quickly and the sky darkening rapidly.
“Look under the control panels here,” Darius advised without taking his eyes off the ocean.
Alec complied. But the few cupboards were surprisingly empty of everything but wires and dust. He sat back on his heels. “What kind of idiot has a boat without lifejackets? We'll have to go back, right?” Everyone knew how dangerous it was to be out in the ocean without a lifejacket. Even a landlubber like him. “I mean, what's so important that we have to go to Newfoundland right now? We can try again tomorrow.”
“No can do.” Darius fought for a moment with the wheel and the boat righted itself. “We're running out of time.”
Alec tensed as a large wave smashed against the bow and drenched the windows. “Running out of time? How?”
Darius sighed. “You can't feel it, you're not trained to, but the rips are widening in Toronto and I'm sensing the same here. No one knows how to close them and you can't stop Rhozan, and whoever or whatever he has in there, from coming out.”
A heavy silence fell over the cabin. Alec watched as the light faded and the sea took on a darker, more ominous shade of navy. The temperature seemed to drop as well. The swells got higher and rougher and the houseboat, not engineered for this type of weather, listed alarmingly from one side to the other.
If the boat went down, they'd all drown. They were too far from shore to even consider swimming for it.
“We're not drowning,” Darius said quietly. “Worry less about what I'm doing and more about your companion.”
Alec glanced backwards. Riley was huddled in a tiny ball, the picture of distress.
“She can't swim,” Darius whispered. “Keep her company.”
Rain began to lash at the little boat as Alec dropped to the seat beside Riley, and within a moment it was falling so thickly that visibility was reduced to almost nothing. The drumming on the roof increased in volume to a roar as the heavens opened. Without warning, Riley's hand shot out and grasped his wrist. He was surprised at her strength. For such a small person she was almost cutting off the circulation to his hand. Not that he was going to pry away her fingers.
“How close are we?” Alec had to shout above the rain.
“Nowhere close enough,” Darius shouted back. “If this gets much worse, I'll have to call them.”
There was no point asking “Call who?” because the wind began roaring and the thudding rain got much louder. Alec huddled next to Riley and shivered in the increasingly cool cabin, hoping that the rain and the storm would play itself out in the next few minutes. He didn't want to admit it, but he was getting scared, too.