Lost in Time(61)

In the hotel room, after dinner, Nora sat on a couch, looking out at the River Thames. “You ever think about confessing?”

“Confessing?”

“Telling the world that we never thought Absolom would be a reality. That we were faking it in the beginning.”

“No. Of the things I think about, that’s not one.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Guilt. The way people look at me—like I’m some kind of god.” Nora raised her eyebrows as if pained. “I just want to scream: ‘It was all a fluke. A happy accident. We never even thought it would work. I’m a fraud, a big worthless fraud!’”

Sam laughed. “It’s natural.”

“What is?”

“Feeling that way. I imagine all celebrities feel like some of the adoration they receive is undeserved.” Sam shrugged. “Well, the ones who aren’t egomaniacs.”

Nora stared at a boat on the river, its lights carving into the night as it motored along.

“We were at the right place at the right time.”

“We were,” Sam agreed. “And we had the right skills.”

“Look at what it cost us.”

Sam squinted at her. “What do you mean?”

“We did it for all the wrong reasons. For money.”

“We did it for family.”

Nora rose from the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of Sam’s chair. “Yes. And look at what happened. You lost Sarah. I lost my parents. Elliott lost Charlie. Constance is still sick, and Hiro still gambles.” Nora closed her eyes as if trying to conjure the right words. “It’s like we made a deal with the devil. We told a lie and got what we wanted but we lost the things we loved—what we truly cared about in the world. In that deep hole, we got wealth and fame and adoration that we don’t deserve.”

Sam reached out and took her hands. “Hey, where’s this coming from?”

“I don’t know, Sam. I just feel like the world doesn’t make any sense.”

“Because you’ve lost someone—”

“It’s not just Dave. Or my parents. It’s like things don’t add up. Life is surreal, like a dream I can’t wake up from. I feel like it has to have some meaning that I can’t see. What we’re doing has to be part of something bigger.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… some grand plan.”

“I don’t know about any grand plan, but I do know Absolom brought us together.” Sam reached up and ran his thumb across her cheek.

Nora froze, as if the touch had paralyzed her.

Sam thought she was going to reel back, but slowly, she turned her face into his hand. Her voice was soft and heavy with emotion when she spoke. “Sam, we shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not a whole person, Sam.”

“Neither am I. Maybe our halves make a whole. Maybe that’s the grand plan you can’t see.”

She smiled. “You have a career writing Valentine’s Day cards if Absolom ever goes under.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s still a bad idea.”

“Look how our last bad idea turned out. Crime almost eliminated. Billions in the bank.”

*

Across the sand, a pattering started, pitting the brown expanse all around Sam’s feet.

Rain.

The late afternoon storm had come like clockwork, and with it, the wind.

It took Sam a moment to realize how dangerous that was.

Like a curtain being jerked back, the thick cloud lifted from the desert and rolled deeper into the interior of Pangea. Within a few minutes, the smoke screen was gone, and Sam was standing in the open, as if he had been swimming naked and the tide had gone out. He hadn’t been the only one swimming across the sea of sand to the shore of the forest. Dozens of bipedal dinosaurs and reptiles were scattered across the desert, looking around, waiting for someone to make the first move. There were even more small quadrupeds, clumped together like schools of fish.

Sam took off, running for the trees as a Chindesaurus lunged for a nearby seelo, jaws open, tearing into it.

The carnage had started again.





FORTY-TWO


A? deline rode the bike through the night, across the Nevada desert, back toward Daniele’s house. She had a decision to make: trust Elliott and Hiro. Or Daniele.

She sensed that her father’s life hung in the balance. Maybe much more. Maybe the fate of the past. And the future.

Soon Absolom City rose on the horizon. The solar panels of the sea of glass glittered in the moonlight like the event horizon of a black hole about to swallow her up.

By the time she reached her home and stowed the bike, Adeline had made her decision. She didn’t know if it was the right one, but she sensed there would be no turning back.

She walked the streets to Daniele’s home, slipped inside, and re-enabled the security system.

Adeline half expected Daniele to be sitting by the kitchen bar, a cup of coffee in her hands, a stern expression on her face as she whispered, “I know where you’ve been.”

But the home was quiet.

In her bedroom, Adeline took out the burner phone and sent a text to Elliott.