Future Threat

37

I scowl at Adam. “How can you be so calm about this?”

He lets out a strained laugh. “I’m not calm, not even close. But if Ava is going to date someone…well, she could do a lot worse than Wombat.”

Wombat grins. “And that’s exactly what the other Adam said too.”

I suppose Adam is right. Our future selves seem to trust Wombat, at least. I don’t like it, but I’m not actually her mom. Yet. “Sorry, Wombat.”

“It’s okay. I know this must be a lot to take in.”

No kidding. I went from having no idea I would ever had kids to being the mother of an eighteen-year-old girl. My emotions are shifting so fast it’s giving me whiplash.

Ava leans close to Wombat and asks, “Why do they call you Wombat?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “Warped, right?”

“You don’t go by that name?” Adam asks.

“Nope. But you can keep calling me that if it makes you feel better.”

“What’s your real name?” I ask.

“It’s Jesse. Jesse McIntosh.”

“Huh,” I say. He doesn’t look like a Jesse somehow. He’ll probably be stuck in my head as Wombat forever.

Ava rubs her hands together. “So what’s the plan? Where are we going?”

“The plan is, you go home, while I help your parents,” Wombat says.

“We both know that’s not going to happen. I’m here to help.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Adam says. “It could be dangerous.”

“But Dad—”

“He’s right,” I interrupt. “There’s no way you are coming with us. We’re almost out of time anyway. Wombat—I mean, Jesse—do you know where Ken or Chris are?”

“No. The tracking system in Chris’s car was disabled, and all the records had been wiped clean. I’m sorry.”

“Damn.” This is bad. Really bad. We’re nearly out of time, and we have no idea what happened to either of them and no clue where to go next. I’m starting to suspect we won’t find Ken in time. Or at least, not alive.

“Are you sure we can’t help?” Ava asks.

“We have to do this on our own,” Adam says. “But…I’m really glad we met.”

“Me too, Dad.” She grabs Adam in a hug, and he stiffens for a second, then hugs her back. She throws her arms around me next and I hold her tight, memorizing everything I can about her. The strength in her arms. The jasmine scent of her hair. The difference in our heights. I don’t want to let go. Now that I’ve found her, how can I walk away from her?

She steps back and smiles at me. “Take care, Mom.”

“Good-bye, Ava,” I say, with an ache in my throat.

Adam shakes Wombat’s hand. “Take good care of her. We’ll see you both in a few years.”

We return to the black car and get inside, but both stare out the window as we take off. Below us, Ava leans against Wombat, and he wraps an arm around her. The two of them wave at us as we fly behind the others in the white car. I never take my eyes off her, trying to savor every last second in her presence. Only when we can no longer see them do we sit back in our seats.

“That was…” Adam’s voice trails off, and he removes his glasses and wipes at his eyes.

“I know.” I rest my hand over his. “I didn’t want to say good-bye to her.”

He entwines his fingers with mine. “Me either. But we’ll see her again in oh…twelve years.”

“That’s a long time to wait.”

“It’ll be worth it.”

I can’t help but smile. “Yeah. It will.”

04:03

Our cars head toward the mountains in the north where the Hollywood sign sits watch over the city. Even though the sun has set completely, we can see it clearly—its giant letters are lit up and shift color every few seconds. That’s definitely new.

We fly over the rugged, untamed hills until we come to a building that looks sort of like the White House, except with two large domes on either end and another huge one in the center. It sits right on the edge of the mountain, overlooking the rest of the city.

Griffith Observatory.

Construction equipment—some familiar, and some high-tech and unrecognizable—is scattered about the grounds. Scaffolding and lights are set up along the outside of the building, and in front of it there’s a huge trench going deep into the earth with a giant mound of dirt next to it. No one seems to be working this late. The place appears to be empty, and the building is dark. The car stops and hovers in place, while a notification pops up in our flexis that we’re entering an off-limits area. It warns us of risks and hazards and asks if we’re sure we want to enter. We bypass it, accepting the terms and conditions, but the car still refuses to descend.

We land a short distance down the hill, outside the construction zone, next to a silver car. Jeremy, Paige, and Zahra burst out of their own car and rush toward the silver one, while Adam and I follow them.

“What is it?” Adam asks.

“This is the car Ken took,” Paige says, while Jeremy throws open the door.

“Ken?” he asks, poking his head inside the car. Then he yells into the dark trees around us, “Ken! Where are you?”