The Elders (Mind Dimensions #4)(70)

“Okay then,” I say. “Let’s go. Unless any of you have objections.” I see that Caleb’s about to speak, so I add, “Other than bitching about having to run from one’s enemies.”

“Here,” Caleb says and turns the shotgun handle toward Eugene. “Take it.”

“No, you keep it,” Eugene says. “I’ll need my hands free to start the device.”

“Keep it, but please, don’t shoot anyone,” I say to Caleb. “No matter how tempting it is.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Caleb retorts.

“That’s arguable,” I mutter. Then I say louder, “Let’s set our watches for seven-thirty, unless . . . Caleb, is half an hour enough time for you to pull in the last person at eight sharp?”

“Again—not an idiot, kid,” Caleb says, crossing his arms over his chest. “And don’t test your luck with a comeback. Kicking your ass wouldn’t undermine the plan, so . . .”

I swallow my witty response and say, “Rose, I assume you’re okay?”

She nods.

“Eugene, is that enough time for us to get back to the guesthouse and start the doomsday device?” I ask.

“Ample, but I’ll go set up.” Eugene turns around and heads for the Temple doors.

“Good luck to you too, Eugene,” Caleb says to Eugene’s back.

“If this works, you'll need to tell Kate and her crew that you’re not their enemy,” I say to Caleb. “I bet they’ll be very confused about what happened.”

“And as soon as you confirm they’re not aggressive, you’re not to kill them,” Rose says. “I like this idea of peace with the Pusher—I mean Guide—Elders. I’m sure the rest of the Enlightened will want it too. Needless to say, unnecessary killing will not be very helpful in meeting that goal.”

Caleb’s jaw tenses and he says, “But that’ll make things more difficult—”

“It’s an order.” The imperiousness in Rose’s tone is as sudden as it is startling.

“Fine,” Caleb concedes. This is the second time I’ve seen him act almost deferential toward my grandparents. “If the stupid walrus eases her grip, I will too. Same goes for the others. If they leave me be, I’ll let them live.”

“Thank you,” Rose says, her voice sounding more pleasant. “Good luck then.”

“Seriously, good luck,” I echo. “Let’s go, Rose.”

“Hey, kid,” Caleb says. “If you save the day, remind me to apologize.”

“For taking my moms and friends hostage?” I ask, my hackles rising. “Or for kidnapping me prior to that?”

Without waiting for an answer, I turn and walk toward the doors of the Temple. I hear Rose shuffling behind me. Once she catches up, I walk in silence, and she doesn’t bother me until we reach the center of the first floor—the place where we’re supposed to part.

“Thank you.” Rose sounds a bit awkward as she says it. “If your father were alive, he would be proud.”

“Umm, thank you?” I say, unsure how else to respond. “Let’s hope we live long enough for me to have made him proud by doing something not crazy.”

“Can I give you a kiss?” she asks unexpectedly.

My first instinct is to refuse, but she is my grandmother. So I give her a careful hug and lower my head, putting the right side of my face within her reach. She gives my cheek a small, hesitant peck. Almost as if on autopilot, I touch my lips to her wrinkled cheek in turn. I taste a salty moisture on my lips; I might’ve kissed one of Rose’s tears.

Without another word, she walks away, and I watch her go for a moment. Then, shaking my head at her bizarre behavior, I continue walking to my destination.

I wonder whether women get more mysterious as they grow older.





*





“Are you almost set?” I ask Eugene when I enter the room.

“Yep,” he says. “Put this on.”

He hands me the helmet, which now looks like Medusa’s decapitated head.

I put it on and look at my watch. “We have some time to kill.”

“Let me check the equipment,” Eugene says. “Some of the cables might’ve gotten loose with all those roots and rocks the cart had to go over.”

The cable tethering me to the machine has a couple of feet of slack, so I pace back and forth as Eugene fiddles with his equipment.

“Okay, it’s almost time,” Eugene says after the longest fifteen minutes of my life. “Which of us will pull Thomas in?”

“Let me,” I say. “You start this thing as soon as I do.”

“Sure,” he says. “Do it when you’re ready.”

After a minute of tense silence, I quietly ask, “Eugene, what do we do if it doesn’t work?”

Eugene gives me an unreadable look, then says confidently, “It’s going to work. It has to.”

I stop myself from saying anything stupid for the next few minutes. When I next look at my watch, I see that it’s exactly 7:58.

“Shit. It’s almost time.”

I stare at the second hand of my watch in a trance. My index finger hovers next to Thomas’s forehead until the last moment, when the watch hand finishes its journey.