Break: In Real Time, #3

By Chris Mandeville

A broken life. A glitch in time. The biggest con of all.

Allie escapes the Nazis in 2153 and makes it back to 2018. But it's not the 2018 she left.

In this timeline, Allie was never born, and Sink controls the wormhole, along with the fate of all Jennys who pass through it. Sink locks up Allie and Bel, then disappears with a wounded Flyx and an unconscious Sharrow.

Allie and Bel hatch a plan to set things right by returning to 1906 to reset the timeline. But first they must escape, rescue Flyx and Sharrow, and wrestle control of the wormhole away from Sink—a Sink who himself is different than before…less crazy. More deadly.

And that's only the beginning.

To get her life back and save her family, Allie must do the unthinkable. And it could mean she ends up with no life at all.

Quake took Allie on a harrowing journey from 2018 to 1906 to 2153 San Francisco. Shake saw Allie in a twisted future that could only be repaired by going back to the beginning—the 1906 Great San Francisco earthquake. Allie's time-travel adventures conclude in Break where she takes the broken past, present, and future, and tries to braid them together in a brand new version of the timeline….

• Language: English
• Publisher: Parker Hayden Media
• Release date: Jan 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781950349470

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Isn’t that the saying?

Saying or not, it couldn’t be more true: I’m locked up with Bel, and she’s rolling her eyes and blaming me. Only it’s not 2153 this time.

We’re back in 2018, according to a calendar on the wall.

Just not my 2018.

Instead of the wormhole appearing in the San Francisco Main Library, it dumped us inside some sterile white office. Then Sink showed up in pajamas like he lives here, along with his old henchman, Cowboy Billy, and locked Bel and me in a glass-walled conference room before taking Flyx and Sharrow who-knows-where.

Sink’s not the same as he was in my 2018. He’s stronger, less crazy, and has eyes. He said he doesn’t know me. But he has to know me, doesn’t he? Even though I was never born in this timeline, Sink’s a Jenny so he should still remember me. This doesn’t make any sense.

Bel, how sure are you this is 2018?

She’s staring out the glass into the room where we landed. Without turning, she points to the calendar. Somehow her body language says duh.

I know that, I say. "How do we know it’s true?"

Now she turns, hands on hips. I’m not a nafe. I’ve navigated the wormhole dozens of times. I know what I’m doing.

Okay... I start pacing, trying to limber up my brain. So if this is really 2018...

"It is."

Then something we did changed 2018 since the last time we were here, I say.

Logically, there’s no way something we did in 2153 could have caused this, so it has to be something we did in 1906.

"What makes you think it’s something we did? Bel raises her eyebrows. It could have been anyone. Anything."

Anything?

Hello? Butterfly Effect? She rolls her eyes and turns her back to me again.

Despair washes over me in all its hopeless glory. If one tiny beat of a butterfly wing can snowball into changing history, how can I have any hope of putting things back the way they were?

I cross to the windows facing outside and look out at the silhouetted cityscape. It’s the same as if I were looking out the sixth-floor window of the Main. So, apparently, the building I’m in replaced the library in this timeline, which is why the wormhole dumped us here. But why? What changed it? Was it the same thing that changed Sink? What else is different?

I’m comforted that the Pioneer Monument looks intact below, as does City Hall to the left, its distinctive dome lit against the night sky.

Oh crap—the night sky. It’s fully dark out. This could be really, really bad.

What time is it? I ask, reflexively touching my wrist where the personal used to be.

"How should I know?" Bel says, continuing to stare out into the office.

I try again. Do you see a clock out there?

No. What does it matter?

Because when the quake hits, it’s not quite dark out. But right now it’s full dark. Did we come out of the wormhole too late? Did we miss the quake? My mind spins out at the thought of being stuck here for three years until the next quake.

Ease out. We didn’t miss it.

You’re sure?

"One hundred. We’re before the quake. I just don’t know how far before. It’s not an exact science. We were going pretty fast, and the days blend together."

How many days are we talking about?

A day or two. No more than a week. She sounds confident.

Okay, so if you’re right—

I am.

Then at the soonest we have until tomorrow evening. At the latest, a week. Either way, we need to make sure we can get out of this room when the quake hits.

I cross to the door and rattle the knob, confirming it’s locked.

What are you doing? Bel asks.

Nothing, just checking. I wouldn’t leave without Flyx and Sharrow.

My gaze follows Bel’s to the closed door on the other side of the outer room. The door we saw a bleeding Flyx and an unconscious Sharrow disappear behind. Sink said he was taking them to med. But I don’t think chances are good he’s actually helping them. I was stupid to assume things would be the same in this 2018, so stupid to have stopped here.

Worry pools in the pit of my stomach. I hope they’re okay.

That man who took them, he’s a Jenny, right? He knows he’s dealing with radiation sickness?

"That man? I turn to Bel. The look on her face says she’s not joking, even though she saw him and I called him by name. Bel, that man was Sink."

"Are you sure? It didn’t look like that crazy old homeless guy you went to see at the church."

It’s definitely him. He’s just different now. But why? What changed him? I remember the last time I saw him. It was the young Sink, in jail in 1906. I saved his life, and I warned him about the future—I told him not to gouge his eyes out. Now, here he is, eyes and all, in control of the spot where the wormhole appears.

This is all my fault. I’m the butterfly. We have to get back to 1906.

Uh, duh, Bel says, aloud this time.

CHAPTER TWO

FLYX

Inever mindseyed such outordinary. Then again, I never magined to travel, to history-change. Shot once already, I’m now led gun-to-back away from Allie and Bel by noneother than Sink. One Oscar Sinclair, baddie from history-past and past-history future. Jenny. And governor.

Where are you taking us? I ask.

Shut up, the other man—the one who’s not Sink—says. He jabs me with the gun.

Sink reaches the end of the hallway carrying Sharrow. He hefts her roughly to one side so he can open a door.

Hey! Be carefu—

Gun-thug whacks the side of my head and I shut up.

I follow Sink into a room like Med from my time. He dumps Sharrow on a cot. My breath catches, but I stay silent this time.

The thug maneuvers me to a second cot, points at it, grunts. I assume that means to climb onto it, so I do.

What’s wrong with her? Sink asks, leaning over Sharrow, his back to me.

He already cogs about the wormhole, so it’s not like I need to keep time travel secret. Radiation sickness—she’s not a Jenny. I look at the thug, expecting him to smack me again, but he doesn’t.

Then you’re the Jenny, Sink says, like the word Jenny tastes bad on his tongue.

No, I’m not a Jenny either, I say.

At that Sink turns abruptly to face me. "Then why aren’t you sick?"

I’m a loggie.

Sink nods like he knows what that is. I see his gaze dart to my wrist. Billy, take off his personal.

His what? the thug—Billy—asks.

On his wrist, Sink says while he removes Sharrow’s personal.

I don’t see nothin’, Boss.

Sink turns back with a sigh, touches my personal so it de-camouflages, then strips me of it.

Billy gasps. What the hell’s that?

Sink drops both personals on the ground. Smash them.

No! I shout. But Billy is already stomping on them.

I swallow down my protests. It’s not like the personals would do anything in this era anyway.

So, loggie, what happened to your leg? Sink asks.

I was shot.

Sink raises his eyebrows. That’s new. Billy, put a dressing on it. He turns his attention back to Sharrow.

"Why? Billy asks. What’s his leg matter if we’re just gonna kill ’em?"

Is he vanking Sharrow? Stop! I lunge from the cot and grab Sink’s arm.

Sink shakes me off like a gnat. I fall back, putting weight on my injured leg, crying out as I crumble to the ground, leg blazing.

Secure him, Sink barks.

Billy grabs me by the arm.

Don’t hurt her, I say, struggling against Billy’s grip. She’s done nothing to you.

Shut him up, Sink says without looking away from Sharrow.

Sure, Boss. Billy tosses me to the cot and clamps his hands around my throat.

I thrash, try to scream, but the room is going black.

Jesus, Billy. I said shut him up. Don’t kill him yet, Sink says as I slip into the darkness.

CHAPTER THREE

Icatch movement in my peripheral vision. A door in the outer room is opening. Bel can’t see it since she’s rolling her eyes at me, so I elbow her and point.

The door swings fully open and Sink steps through, alone. He approaches the glass wall and we make eye contact. He stares at me, eyes narrowing, and I know. He does recognize me.

You lied, I say, loud enough I hope he can hear through the glass. "You do know me."

His eyes bore into me, much less creepy than I remember as a kid, but still creepy. What are you doing here?

We came to find you, I say. So you could help our friends. You are helping them, right?

They’d better be okay, Bel says.

Tell me why you’re really here, Sink says, ignoring Bel, talking directly to me. You from the past, now from the future, with your friends in their future suits, and you with your future plots. Who sent you?

No one sent us, I say. We came so you could help Sharrow. She has radiation sickness from the wormhole. Just like my mom did fifteen years ago when you helped her.

I did no such thing, he says, agitated. You’re lying, trying to confuse me.

No, it’s true. You... I pause, realizing he’s right. Not about me lying, but about my mom. In this timeline she was killed in 1906 before she could ever time-travel, so she never had radiation sickness. This version of Sink never helped her. I...sorry. You’re right. That was a different timeline.

Tell me who sent you. What do they want from me?

No one sent us, Bel says.

No, no, no. You be quiet. Sink waves Bel off. "But you, he says, stabbing his finger at me. They went back to my past and found you, dressed you up, sent you here...but to what end?"

I promise no one sent me, I say. But if you remember me from 1906, you know I helped you. We were friends.

It’s a trick! he shouts, seeming more and more like the crazy Sink I remember from the other 2018. "It was all a trick, you helping me, telling me not to take my eyes out, making me wonder, question everything, question my sanity. Is that their plan? Sink leans toward me, so close to the glass his breath fogs it. Tell me, future-past girl. Are they trying to make me lose my mind?"

There’s no ‘they,’ I say. No one sent me, I swear. I came to you for help. I helped you—you owe me.

They think they’re so clever, sending you. But I know better, he says. They aren’t going to get me. They won’t win. I’ve taken care of every traveler they’ve sent, and you’re no different. I’ll deal with your friends first, then it’s your turn. He pivots and heads for the door.

I can’t let him hurt Flyx and Sharrow—I have to do something. "Wait! I’ll tell you who sent us."

I knew it! Sink turns back to face us, eyes crazy, but not the kind of crazy he was in the other timeline. Now he looks dangerous-crazy.

I’ll tell you what they’re planning, I say, mentally crossing all my fingers that this will buy me enough time to figure out how to get us out of here. If you promise to let us all go, I’ll tell you everything.

Oh, but you’ve already told me what I need to know. A grin spreads across his face. It’s anything but friendly. Billy will be in soon. Good-bye, future-past girl.

No! Bel shouts. She’s lying!

Sink exits through the outer door, pulling it closed after him.

Oh God, is he sending Billy to kill us?

What the hell did you do that for? Bel says. You played right into his delusions.

I thought it was the only way to buy us time.

I think you bought us the opposite.

I know, I’m sorry. Come on, we have to find a way out of here. I crouch to examine the doorknob. It’s a basic cylinder lock, with the key side facing me. Look for a key, I tell Bel.

Where? Bel gestures to the room. There’s only a conference table and chairs, no drawers or cabinets or shelves where a key might be hiding. Can’t you pick it or something?

Maybe...? I remember hearing two clicks when Cowboy Billy locked us in—one when the latch engaged and a second when he locked it. It didn’t sound like he turned a key, and I didn’t see him remove a key, so I’m betting the other side of the knob has a turn lock or a push button, both of which should be pretty simple—according to the YouTube videos I studied—but only if I have tools.

Come on, Bel says, fear tinging her voice. You’re the criminal, do your criminal thing.

I can’t work magic. I need tools to pick it, like a couple of bobby pins or paper clips, anything I can poke in the lock.

I run my fingers through my hair, even though I know I don’t have any pins in it.

Here, Bel says, shoving two bobby pins at me. "Hurry."

I am, I say, already stripping the little plastic knobs off the tips of the bobby pins, keeping to myself the fact I’ve never actually done this before.

I open a bobby pin into an L, then bend one tip so it’s at a 45-degree angle—this will be my key. With the second bobby pin, I open it to a 70-degree angle—this is my lever.

Using the lever to hold pressure on the cylinder, I insert the key and poke around, feeling for the pins that are keeping the lock engaged.

After a moment I feel something give, so I press up with the key, pushing the pin out of the cylinder. There’s a click as the pin snaps into place in the housing.

It actually worked!

Now only four more to go. Provided this is a standard pin-and-tumbler mechanism.

Go faster, Bel says.

I’m going as fast as I can.

Now that I know what I’m doing, it only takes another minute to find and depress four more pins. I take a breath and carefully, carefully turn the lever, praying to all the burglar gods that this isn’t some special, non-standard kind of lock.... And...the door opens.

Bel gasps. You did it.

I can hardly believe it either. I stand and step through, glad there’s no alarm announcing our escape. At least not one we can hear.

Come on, I say, heading to the door Sink used to exit.

You heard what the crazy guy said. We have to get out of here, Bel says crossing to a different door.

No, we can’t leave Flyx and Sharrow. I pull the door open a few inches and peek through.

Crap! Sink and Billy are coming right at me!

I slam the door shut, but there’s no lock.

Get them! Sink roars from the other side of the door.

Run! I shout as I turn.

Bel’s already got the other door open for me. I sprint for it, hearing Sink close behind me.

As soon as I cross the threshold, Bel slams the door in Sink’s face and throws herself against it. Immediately the door bucks against her.

Allie, help! Bel shouts.

There’s a credenza against the wall beside the door. It weighs a million pounds, but I manage to shove it in front of the door.

The door bangs into the credenza as Sink tries to open it, but the credenza holds.

Gods damnit! Sink shouts. Billy, go around!

Shit.

I scope out the room we’re in. It’s a waiting room with tables and chairs. The main entrance is to the left—probably where Billy’s going to come from—so I dash for the emergency exit and yank open the door to a staircase.

Go, I tell Bel, ushering her through. Then I grab the fire alarm handle, pull hard, and scramble after her as alarms start blaring.

What did you do? Bel shouts back at me.

Trust me, I shout.

After endless stairs, we finally reach an exit. We bust through the door onto the sidewalk. The Pioneer Monument is just feet away.

Thank gods, Bel says.

I glance back into the stairwell as the door swings shut. I don’t see anyone in pursuit, but they’ll be coming any minute. Hopefully.

We need to hide, I tell Bel as I head for the monument.

No, we need to get out of here!

Come on. I grab Bel’s arm and pull her with me into the shrubbery surrounding the monument. I crouch down behind a bush with a view of the emergency exit we just came out. I hear sirens approaching now—good.

Allie, what in the soot are you doing? Bel says, crouching beside me.

The fire department will make everyone exit while they clear the building. We’ll grab Flyx and Sharrow when they come out that door.

And if they don’t?

I ignore all the other possibilities where they don’t exit that door. They will. They have to.

CHAPTER FOUR

FLYX

An alarm rouses me. It takes me a minute to realize where I am.

I eye Sharrow—she’s not moving at all, even with the alarm blaring. Rake me, is she dead?

The door opens fast, slamming against the wall. Sink strides in, followed by Billy who’s pointing the gun at me.

We gotta kill them now, right? Billy shouts over the alarm.

No, you idiot, Sink shouts back, scooping Sharrow into his arms. The cops and the fire department will be here any minute. You want them to find a couple of dead kids in our quarters? Bring him.

Billy shoves the gun in his waistband and covers it with his shirt, then leans in close to my face. Don’t get any ideas. I’m not supposed to kill you, but he ain’t said nothin’ about hurting you.

He grabs my arm and yanks me to my feet. My knees buckle from the pain, but Billy’s iron grip keeps me upright as he pulls me through the doorway.

Sink’s waiting on the other side of the door. Listen up, he says to me. When the cops get here, don’t speak. To them or to anyone. If you say a word, she dies. He gestures to Sharrow with his chin.

But you said we can’t kill them, Billy says, voicing exactly what I was rationing.

"I’m not going to kill her, you idiot, Sink says. The radiation will unless I tell them how to treat it. So keep your mouths shut, both of you. Now let’s go."

Billy jerks me forward, and pain havocs through my leg, but I can’t go down now. I grit my teeth and hobble down the hallway after Sink, in the opposite direction of the last place I saw Allie and Bel. I hope-pray this alarm means they escaped, but samewise rot them if they ditched us.

Sink stops at the other end of the hallway. There’s a wide corridor off to the right and a closed door to the left.

Open it, Sink shouts.

Billy busts over and opens the door. If I’m going to escape, this is my chance. I turn to run, but I don’t. I won’t leave Sharrow.

Get a move on, Billy shouts, motioning me into the stairwell.

CHAPTER FIVE

Iwatch the closed door as I hear the first sirens approaching from a distance. Why the heck hasn’t Sink come out yet?

The longer we wait, the more I worry Sink’s going to take Flyx and Sharrow out a different exit, or maybe not come out at all.

The cops and fire trucks will be here any second. I know we should run, but I just can’t make myself leave without Flyx and Sharrow.

A beam from a flashlight traces back and forth across the monument. Crap, I waited too long!

Allie—

I shush Bel’s loud whisper, but it’s too late. The beam of light sweeps back over and stops on us.

Hey! You, there. A man’s voice.

I peek out between some leaves and see a round cop waddling toward us.

I see you there, he says. Come on out, nice and slow.

Bel looks at me, eyes wide. I shake my head. Her eyes go wider.

Run I mouth. Then I grab her wrist and pull her with me as I launch into a sprint.

Stop! the cop shouts. Stop right there!

Nope, not going to happen. I just pray he doesn’t shoot.

Still hanging onto Bel, I pour on the speed, heading away from the cop, leaving the building with our friends behind. We dash across Hyde Street into UN Plaza.

Stop! Stop them! the cop yells from far behind us.

At this time of evening there are only a few people in the plaza, and lucky for us, none of them care to help the cop. They just step back and watch us go by.

As we round the Orpheum Theater and approach what I hope is our salvation—the entrance to BART—I glance back and see the cop still coming, but thankfully he’s alone.

At the staircase that leads down from the sidewalk, I let go of Bel so I can keep my balance and I vault down the steps faster than I should. Please don’t fall, please don’t fall, I think for myself and for Bel. One misstep and the cop will be on us like a street dog on a cheeseburger.

We make it to the bottom and start running full-out again.

Ahead are the gates, shut to keep people from entering without a ticket.

Jump, I call as I launch myself over the closed red turnstile arms, never so grateful not to be wearing a Victorian gown.

I look back to see Bel make it over, then I race straight across the lobby and down a side passage. I hear Bel’s footfalls behind me—only hers, as far as I can tell.

I make a quick right turn, then another, to a different staircase. I dash up two stairs at a time and end up on Market Street, a half-block away and across the street from where we entered.

Bel arrives breathless beside me. I link my arm through hers and walk quickly—but not so quickly as to call attention—up Market, away from the cops and flashing lights.

After two blocks, my breathing is returning to normal, but my heart is still pounding hard. Nothing like a good police chase to get the blood pumping.

So what now, genius? Bel asks.

I don’t answer.

We’re going to have to find some other way to rescue Flyx and Sharrow, and get back inside that building before the quake hits. But damned if I have the first idea how.

CHAPTER SIX

FLYX

Ieye Sink partway down the stairwell carrying Sharrow, her head bobbing with each step. I limp down, gripping tightly to the handrail, hope-praying she’s still alive.

As we round a landing, people block the way. Emergency workers of some sort, suited up with gear. One takes Sharrow from Sink, and I’m flooded with relief.

Anyone else injured? a deep voice shouts.

Here! I call.

Sink tips his head at me. A warning.

It’s my leg, I say as a uniformed man slips his arm around me and bears some of my weight.

Anyone else in the building? another asks.

Not that I know of, Sink says.

Adams, Blaze, get them to the ambo, the deep voice replies. We’ll finish the canvas.

The others squeeze past us, heading up the stairs, then we continue down. Even with help, my leg is screaming when we finally exit the building and head toward a pack of vehicles with bright flashing lights. The guy carrying Sharrow stops at one that has a med-bay in back. I make to follow, but my guy brutes me past to second vehicle.

"I need