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“That’s the idea,” Ken says. “Do you know where our present-day selves are?” “I haven’t spoken to any of you in years. I imagine you’re all doing the same thing I am—preparing to ride out the end of the world.” The elevator opens to the parking garage, and Vincent strides out, expecting us to keep up. He’s wearing a charcoal-gray suit and shiny black shoes, still playing the role of corporate big shot even though there’s no one around but Ken and me. Vincent stops beside a dark-silver sedan that looks exactly like a car from the present. “You can use this car while you’re here. Everything you might need is inside already, including updated maps of the Beverly Center. I’ve also included some other electronic devices you might find useful, along with some money in case there’s anything el
- Writer
