Sabotaged (6 page)

“So, what, he blackmailed you?” Katherine asked. “What had you done—murdered somebody?”

Jonah could tell Katherine was just trying to make a joke, to lighten the mood. But this was evidently the wrong thing to say. Sorrow spread across Andrea’s face, and Jonah thought she was going to fall apart again. Then, just like before, a sort of mask seemed to slide over her entire expression, hiding her emotions. But it didn’t happen so instantaneously this time, or so completely. Jonah felt like he could still see cracks, broken
places that didn’t heal.

“Nobody blackmailed me,” Andrea said. “At least, not blackmail like in the movies, where it’s all about money. He didn’t even ask for anything in exchange.”

“In exchange for
what
?” Jonah asked. “What are you talking about?” He could feel the dread creeping over him. Hairs stood up on the back of his neck; goosebumps rose on his arms. Whatever Andrea was about to say, it was going to be awful.

Andrea didn’t answer his question.

“I know I was probably being stupid, all right?” she said. “I knew I shouldn’t trust the man. But don’t you see? If there was any chance at all, I had to try!”

“Try what?” Jonah and Katherine asked together, the words spilling out almost completely in sync.

Andrea looked up at them and blinked back tears.

“I had to try to save my parents.”

Now Jonah was even more confused.

“You mean, Mistress Dare and—what would it be?—Master Dare?” he asked.

“No, no, my
real
parents. The ones I knew.” Andrea seemed annoyed that Jonah didn’t understand. “Back in our time. In the twenty-first century.”

Jonah saw the real problem: Andrea didn’t understand time travel.

“Andrea, you don’t have to worry about your parents,” he said. He almost chuckled, but stopped himself. He didn’t want to embarrass her for not understanding. “They’re fine—they’re just waiting for us back home in the twenty-first century. All we have to do is get you out of history—the right way, this time—and then you can go home and see them again. Honest.”

Jonah spoke with the same soothing tone he’d used with homesick Cub Scouts when he’d worked as a counselor-in-training at camp. Really, if Andrea had been so confused all along, why hadn’t she just asked before?

Andrea shook her head.

“No, Jonah,” she corrected him. “My parents aren’t waiting for me back in the twenty-first century.”

“Of course they are,” Jonah argued. “And the great thing is, because you’ll get back just a split second after you left, they won’t even know you were gone.”

“Don’t you get it?” Andrea said. She didn’t sound annoyed anymore. The sorrow in her voice crowded out everything else. “Back in the twenty-first century, my parents are dead.”

Jonah and Katherine both stared at Andrea, their jaws dropped. That wasn’t a possibility Jonah would have thought of. It was too awful.

“It was a car crash,” Andrea said. “Last year.”

She sounded tougher now, brusque, as if she’d learned how to mask her voice as well as her facial expressions.

“I’m—,” Katherine began.

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Don’t say you can imagine just how that would feel,” Andrea said. “You
can’t
.”

Jonah was trying to imagine it anyway. What would it be like to lose both your mom and dad? At the same time?

“You mean, your adoptive parents?” he asked cautiously. “The ones who got you after the time crash?”

He was hoping he’d misunderstood somehow.

“Yes, my adoptive parents,” Andrea said impatiently.
“I said my real ones, didn’t I?”

Jonah kept trying to get his head around the thought of someone losing two sets of parents by the time she’d turned thirteen. Katherine sniffed, like she might start crying on Andrea’s behalf.

“I don’t like telling people,” Andrea said. “I usually won’t. Because then they start acting like
this
.” She waved her hand vaguely at Jonah and Katherine. Jonah tried to sit up a little straighter and look normal. It wasn’t easy.

“But you told us because . . . because it’s connected to something that man told you?” Katherine said, her voice full of bafflement. “Something . . . about the Elucidator?”

Andrea nodded.

“He promised,” she whispered. “He said I could go back. He said I could stop . . .”

Andrea waited, as if she expected Jonah and Katherine to figure everything out. But Jonah couldn’t think at all while he was watching the pain play over Andrea’s face.

“He said you could stop . . . ,” Katherine prompted. Then she gasped. “Oh, oh—I get it.” Now her words came in a rush. “That man, what he told you—he said you could go back just a year in time, right? So you thought you could stop your parents from being in that crash. You
thought you could save their lives!”

Andrea looked down at the ground.

“He said all I had to do was reprogram the Elucidator,” she murmured.

Jonah felt the anger wash over him again.

“Couldn’t you tell the man was lying?” he growled. “Time doesn’t work that way. You can’t go back to a time period you’ve already lived through. You know that! Didn’t you hear anyone talking about the ‘paradox of the doubles’? Or—didn’t you think about what it meant that we’d been living in Damaged Time? Like Katherine was talking about before?” Jonah realized that Andrea had probably been too far ahead to hear anything when he and Katherine were talking about Damaged Time. He just leaned in closer, nearly yelling at her now. “No time travelers could get in for almost thirteen years! Practically our entire lives!”

Andrea recoiled, as if he’d slapped her.

“Nobody told me that,” she whispered.

Belatedly, Jonah realized that could be true. When would she have gotten her crash course in the rules of time travel? The day they’d been trapped in the cave with all the grown-ups fighting over them? Everything was chaos that day. Nothing had been explained very clearly.

“Jonah, it was Angela who mostly told us about all
that,” Katherine said. Angela was the only twenty-first century adult who knew about time travel. She had taken a lot of risks to help Jonah and the other kids. “It was when we were divided up into groups—Andrea wasn’t with us then.”

Jonah sighed, his anger washing away. He wished he could stay mad—anger was so much easier.

“See, here’s how it works,” Katherine was explaining to Andrea. “When Gary and Hodge kidnapped you and the other kids from history, and JB was chasing them, you know they crash-landed into our time. Well—” she snuck a glance at her brother “—
my
time anyway. We still don’t know Jonah’s right time, and he’s too chicken to ask.”

“I am not!” Jonah argued, even as he was thinking,
How did Katherine notice?

Katherine ignored him and kept talking.

“You were all babies, right? The ones who weren’t babies to begin with were ‘unaged’ through the magic of time travel—and don’t try to understand that, because I don’t think anyone really can. Anyhow, JB or Gary and Hodge or whoever would have tried to grab you back from our time right away, if they could.”

“But the time crash messed up everything, and
no
time traveler could get in or out for about the next thirteen years,” Jonah added, because he wasn’t going to let
Katherine make it look as if she was the only one who knew what was going on. “That’s how we could all be adopted and have normal lives for thirteen years. And so, when your parents . . . died . . . that would have been during Damaged Time, so no time traveler could save them. Not you, not . . . anybody.”

Jonah’s voice kept slowing down and getting softer as he talked. This wasn’t about showing up Katherine. This wasn’t like getting the right answer in school and thinking,
Hey! I knew something the other kids didn’t! Go, me!
This was telling a girl she’d never see her parents again.

Andrea was biting her lip. She had her heels wedged in the dirt, her back pressed hard against the toppled fence.

“But—” she began. Then her shoulders slumped. “I know. You’re right. I saw how JB and Gary and Hodge were acting. If they could have come back to get us any sooner, they would have.” She was silent for a moment, then looked up at Jonah. “And, yeah, I should have known not to trust that man. I
did
know. But I still thought . . . I hoped . . .”

And then Jonah couldn’t yell at her anymore about losing the Elucidator, about stranding him and Katherine in . . . well, now that he thought about it, Jonah didn’t know what time period they were in. He glanced back at the tracer boys with the tracer deer once more. While
Jonah and Katherine and Andrea had been screaming and crying and ranting at each other, the tracer boys had managed to truss up the remains of the dead deer. Now they had it hanging from a thick pole, which they were balancing on their shoulders as they walked away. The method they were using, with the deer slung between them, made Jonah think of a picture in a textbook. But he couldn’t remember any picture in a Social Studies book that had had a caption, “If you’re traveling through time and you get lost and you see people using this technique, that undoubtedly means you’re in the sixteenth or seventeenth century, and . . .”

Jonah had always thought that learning Social Studies was mostly pointless. It was weird that he now wished his Social Studies teachers had taught him
more.

“So, Andrea, when you reprogrammed the Elucidator,” he began gently, “exactly what did you set it for?”

Andrea grimaced.

“I was trying to get back to June of last year, to this camp I always went to in Michigan. My parents had just dropped me off at camp when . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to.

June,
Jonah thought.
Camp. That’s why she wore shorts.

Jonah liked being able to focus on little details like
that, so he didn’t have to focus on anything else.

But Andrea was still talking.

“I thought this time around I could just keep my parents at camp an extra five minutes before they left,” she said. “I thought I could make them help unroll my sleeping bag, or tell them I forgot to pack my toothbrush and they needed to get me a new one, or have them walk down to look at the lake with me . . . anything I could do to slow them down, to keep them from being on the highway beside that semi truck. . . .”

Jonah really didn’t want to hear any more of this story. And Andrea seemed to be having a harder and harder time telling it.

“Okay, but the Elucidator,” Jonah said. “Exactly what did you type into it? June—what? And . . .
Michigan
? The Roanoke Colony wasn’t in Michigan, was it?”

Katherine rolled her eyes.

“Try North Carolina,” she said.

Jonah wanted so badly to say,
Everyone hates a know-it-all, Katherine.
It would be so nice to take out all his frustration and worry and fear on her. But her face was already as white and strained and worried as Andrea’s. Jonah couldn’t go on the attack right now.

Andrea was shaking her head.

“It wasn’t like you think,” she said. “I wasn’t supposed
to type in an exact date, or a GPS location, or anything. The man just gave me a code. A string of numbers.”

And you fell for that?
Jonah wanted to say. But how could he? Her parents were dead.

“The thing is,” Andrea continued, “I worked so hard to memorize that code. I made sure I knew it forward, backward, and upside down. And I
know
I typed it in exactly the way the man told me. I checked it three times before I hit
ENTER
. I wanted so badly to see . . .”

This was another sentence she couldn’t finish. She just sat there, frozen. She’d stopped crying now, but the tears still glistened on her cheeks. Her hair was tangled in some of the vines.

“It’s okay,” Katherine said gently, patting Andrea’s shoulder. “We understand.”

Andrea scooted away.

“But I dragged the two of you into this too,” she said.

“Well, no, actually JB and his projectionist did,” Jonah said, trying for a joking tone. He didn’t quite succeed. He tried again. “And don’t worry, it wasn’t like we expected to have
fun
, rescuing you from Virginia Dare’s life. Who knows? This might be a better adventure.”

Both of the girls frowned at him.

“But where are we?” Andrea asked. “
When
are we? We don’t know anything.”

“Yeah, we do,” Katherine said slowly. “We know you typed in the code exactly the way the man wanted you to. So—where we landed? That was exactly where he wanted us to land.”

All three kids looked back toward the woods they’d come through. The trees were almost eerily still. Jonah looked at the ruins around him: broken down, falling apart, deserted. Desolate.

But quiet, too,
he told himself.
Peaceful.

The place they’d landed in the 1400s had seemed quiet and peaceful, too, at first. Until the murderers showed up.

Would we have met some murderer looking for Virginia Dare if we’d gone where JB had wanted us to go?
Jonah wondered.
Or are we more likely to meet a murderer now? Is that what the mystery man wanted?