Mend: A YA Time Travel Thriller (Rift Walkers Book 2) by Elana Johnson
“We can go to my place,” Cedar says. “Can you call Heath and let him know?”
“I’ll text Harlem,” I say, firing off the message. I haven’t been to Cedar’s since I got back, so I’m surprised when he doesn’t head out in the suburbs where he used to live. He winds down one block and then turns left onto Yardley Lane.
Yardley Lane, where all the hipsters live. “You live here?” I gaze up at the three-story townhomes with luxury brick and contrasting shutters.
“Yeah.” He pulls into an empty spot on the street and kills the engine. Price tumbles from the cab like it’s caught fire. I start to follow him when Cedar touches my hand. A light touch, barely a meeting of skin, yet I freeze.
“He’s the someone else, isn’t he?” His voice isn’t accusatory, or sad, or angry. Maybe Trader’s right, and Cedar just needs to know he can move on.
“Yes, Cedar,” I say. “Price is the someone else.”
Cedar nods and straightens away from me, shifting his focus out the driver’s side window.
“I’m sorry, Cedar.”
“It’s okay, Cas.” He opens the door and slides out of the truck, never looking back. He really sounded like it was okay too, but the uncomfortable writing in my stomach won’t subside.
“Cascade!” Cedar’s panicked voice pulls me from my quiet contemplation.
I vault from the truck and sprint toward the steps leading up to his front door. He’s kneeling over the still form of Price.
“Price.” I drop next to Cedar and smooth Price’s hair off his forehead. “What happened?”
“He was fine. He was standing here, and talking to me, and—”
Cedar stops speaking at the same time my lungs seize. I can’t breathe, and I can’t speak, and I wish my heart would stop beating.
Because Price disappears.
Cascade
POOF.
Gone.
Price is gone.
I sit on Cedar’s leather couch, wanting to enjoy the crisp scent in his house, but still numb from watching Price vanish.
Cedar sits next to me and presses a hot mug into my hands. “Drink it, Cascade.” He tips a cup to his own lips and takes a small sip.
I obey, mostly because I can’t seem to think of a reason not to. I can’t seem to think at all. A tear slithers out of the corner of my eye. I let it go, and to my horror, more follow. But I feel stuffed full, and if something doesn’t get released, I might erupt.
I bring my knees to my chest, and I cry cry cry.
Cedar gathers me into a warm embrace and holds me, much the same way my uncle did after my dad’s funeral. I haven’t cried since then, choosing instead to compartmentalize everything, shut everyone out, handle things myself.
I lean into Cedar and empty my soul. When I finally quiet, he says, “Come on now, Cas. What are you going to do next?”
I shake my head and wipe my eyes. “I don’t know, Cedar.”
“The Cascade I knew always had a plan.”
I stay tucked into the security of his arms as I think. Dad’s a lost cause. Trader’s tests prove that. I can’t free Dad from the portal, and he wouldn’t survive even if I did.
But Price…
“I have to go through a time rift,” I say. “I have to figure out what happened to Price, and reverse it.”
Cedar stiffens next to me, and I slide out of his grasp. “I know you don’t want me to—”
“It’s more than that, Cas.” Cedar stands and paces to the window, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You’re already sick. Your cells are compromised. How much worse will you be after this?” He faces me, that determined set of his mouth hella-familiar. “What if you don’t survive this?”
“Then I don’t survive.” I stand too, gathering my strength and resolve. “Price is worth it.”
Cedar cocks his head to the side, a curious look on his face. “Okay, well—” A knock on the door interrupts him.
We exchange a glance before he turns and peeks through the blinds. “Stay back, Cas.”
I automatically duck, like whoever is on the other side of the door wields an electroray and will execute me on-sight.
“It’s a guy,” Cedar whispers. “Light brown hair. About your age. Green eyes.”
“Is he wearing a pair of silver boots?”
Cedar glances over his shoulder at where I’m crouched behind the coffee table. “Yeah.”
“That’s Heath.” I straighten and nod to Cedar. “Price’s friend from the future. I asked Harlem to bring him here.”
A couple beats of silence scream between us. “You’re telling him what happened to Price,” Cedar says. “It should come from someone he knows.”
My heart constricts at the thought, but I nod.
Heath pounds on the door. “Cascade? Let me in. Harlem—”
Cedar whips open the door and gestures him inside. Heath glances around wildly, obviously looking for Price. He finally meets my eye. “He’s not here, is he?”
I shake my head, and Heath spins away. “Harlem disappeared too. One second he was sitting there in the driver’s seat. The next, he was gone. Something happened and everyone started honking.” His hair sticks up on side, and a tremor vibrates his hands. “I had to drive the car. I’ve never driven a car before.” His voice breaks on the last word, and I know it’s not driving a car that has him shaken.
I cross the room and slide my hand into the crook of his elbow. “We’ll get him back, Heath. We’ll use the rift.”
“You can’t use the rift,” Cedar says.
I glare at him, wishing he’d stay out of this. “Yes, I can.”
Cedar gets right in my face, bending so his eyes are level with mine. “I will not watch you die.”
“You don’t have to watch,” I grind out between my teeth.
“Hold up,” Heath says. “Why would you die?”
Cedar steps back and sweeps his hand toward Heath, an invitation for me to tell him the truth. With all the tears gone, all the emotion spent, I feel the fierceness rise within me, the way it did when I took care of myself for two years before finding Shep and moving in with him.
“You are not my mother,” I tell Cedar. “And I am going to save Price.” I storm toward the front door, not caring if either one of them follow me. I don’t need them.
I can save Price by myself.
I make it to the sidewalk before Heath catches me. “I’ll come, Cas.”
I hear what he doesn’t say: Price is important to me too.
“But you gotta tell me what the hella he was talking about back there.”
I keep on toward the corner, where we can hopefully catch a cab. “I’m sick.” I frown. “Sort of. My muscles and cells and bones aren’t as strong as they used to be, because of walking through the rift. I promised him I wouldn’t go through any more rifts. But—” My voice sticks. Apparently I haven’t cleared all the emotion from my system.
“It’s Price,” Heath supplies.
“Yeah.” I lift my hand as a taxi approaches, and it veers to the curb. “Come on. Let’s get back to my house so we can make a plan.”
I give the cabbie the address and relax into the seat. I just need ten minutes to rest, to re-center my thoughts. I tell the driver to take his time, that the fare is no issue. I lean against the window and try to sleep.
But a few miles, even in city traffic, isn’t enough to get the relief I need. I have a feeling I won’t get it until Price is back, until we step through the rift and leave everyone else behind.
“Um, Cas?”
My eyes spring open as the cab eases to a stop. I don’t have to ask what he means. No less than five cars crowd my driveway and the surrounding street, with several people in white lab coats entering and exiting the house.
“Keep going,” I say to the cabbie as I duck down. “Circle around to the other block. We’ll get out over there.”
Heath slides down next to me, and we exchange a worried glance. “Who are they?” he asks.
&nb
“Here?” The taxi driver stops after he’s made two left turns. My house is behind this one; our backyards meet up with a fence in the middle.
“This is great.” I throw some cash at him and slide out of the car after Heath. I wait until the cab drives away before entering someone else’s yard. We sneak past the garage and through the gate that leads to a narrow gravel path that runs between the blocks. We don’t have a gate in our fence, so I leap for the top and haul myself over.
I drop to the ground and scamper behind the shed. Heath joins me, his breathing coming quicker, the way mine is. “Let’s see if we can get upstairs,” I whisper.
“Your room is out,” he says. “There were a dozen people out front.”
“I think they’ll be in my mom’s office or in the basement. Maybe we can get through the kitchen and up the stairs before anyone sees us.”
“That’s a long shot, Cas.”
“It’s the best one we’ve got. I can’t climb that rain gutter to my mom’s bedroom.” It’s straight up, very slim, and she probably keeps her window locked. “Let’s go.” I dart across the lawn and wrench open the garage door.
Up the three steps, I crack the door that leads to the kitchen. Faint voices echo from the direction of the foyer, so I fly into the house and head straight for the stairs. I hear Heath’s exhale from behind me as we sprint up two steps at a time.
I turn toward my mom’s bedroom instead of mine and Saige’s. I have no idea where she is, or what she’s doing, or how she’ll react to me going through a rift to resurrect Price.
“We’re in,” Heath says, clearly asking me to reveal the next step in the plan.
My jaw tightens. “I need to get through a rift.”
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen here.”
He’s right, but I don’t know where else to go. Price and I destroyed the rift downtown, at least in this timeline. But they got through… I shift toward him. “How did you guys get here?”
“We broke into the Time Bureau, and went through the rift there.”
“That rift blew up six months ago.”
His eyes blaze with energy. “Well, it’s been fixed, because we didn’t have a problem.”
I curse and give Heath what I hope is an apologetic look. “We need to go downtown then.” I pull out the phone and dial a taxi service. I speak in a low voice as I give them the address where we were just dropped off.
“I can go down the rain gutter,” I say, because I’ve done it before. I stuff the phone in my pocket and stride toward my mom’s bedroom. “The cab will be here in ten minutes.”
Getting out of the house is ten times easier than getting in, and we arrive early for the cab. By the time he pulls up, the chill in the air has infected my lungs. I start to cough, and I can’t stop.
Heath watches me with a glint of concern in his eye, but I ignore him. I can’t even imagine what Cedar would say if he were here. A twinge of guilt cuts through me at the thought of him, but I shove it away. I don’t have time or energy to worry about him.
Twenty minutes later, Heath and I spill onto the sidewalk in front of the dirty, abandoned building on Jasper. I approach cautiously, like maybe Orville will be here. I already know Guy won’t be—he doesn’t exist.
A few more paces and I reach the entrance to the building. The door opens easily, confirming my suspicions of this building being abandoned. I can’t imagine the rift being here and not being guarded, watched, monitored, controlled.
I step across the threshold, but the light coming from the weak, winter sun behind me doesn’t reach far. Only enough to see piles of debris, splintered wooden planks, litter loitering in corners. The skeleton of a staircase claws down from the ceiling, but there’s no second floor on the left side of the space.
Heath steps next to me. “This is it. You blew this up?”
“After Price and I escaped through the rift in his bedroom, we used this one to get back. I didn’t actually blow it up, but Guy blamed me.”
“Who blew it?”
“His muscle.” I remember the way they followed us, tried to break down the door, how Price had gotten cut with broken glass. The sight of his blood had forced me to realize he was human, that he could get hurt from being involved with me. He hadn’t seemed to care, though, something I wasn’t sure how to handle. I still don’t.
Heath leads the way down the hall, past the broken staircase, and the apartment where the rift used to be. The air smells like garbage and decay, and I take a deep breath and hold it.
Down the hall, on the opposite end of the building, a door flaps in the wind. Heath keeps on that way, and I follow. I burst into the alley with my lungs on fire and glance left, then right.
No one. Clear. Pressing my back into the unyielding brick, I breathe breathe breathe.
Heath tosses me a curious glance, but turns left and heads toward the corner of the building. He pauses in the intersection, a flickering light dancing across his face. I know that light…
I stride forward, a fire raging inside me. But the magnificent tear in the space-time continuum dampens my rising anger. The rift rises through the sky, shooting toward the clouds the way the spotlights do on Halloween night.
This rift blurs with navy and fuchsia light, and that fact alone scares me. I can’t believe this just exists here. Is it connected to another dimension? Can anyone cross over at anytime?
But really, what I’m most afraid of is stepping into that light. My skin tingles as if just being this close to it can cause permanent damage. Maybe it can.
I look at Heath. He looks at me.
We both face the rift.
I take the deepest breath I can manage, trying to infuse some bravery into my bloodstream with the oxygen. It doesn’t work, but I reach for Heath’s hand anyway.
We move toward the rift, and I enter it first, imagining a gallon of radiation tainting my cells, my organs, my soul.
Heath
I KEEP A TIGHT GRIP ON CASCADE’S HAND, noting that she does the same. I don’t know how sick she is, what the rift does to cells, and bones, and muscles, but rift-walking now has another layer of freakiness.
I hate this thing. All of them. The one at Price’s house. The one that stole my brother from me.
I’ve been through the rift exactly once, and it was hella-scary and super-weird at the same time. This walk is no different. Nothing to step on, nothing to see, nothing to hear. Just emptiness. Freaky, alien, unnatural emptiness.
Cascade disappears in front of me, but her fingers still exist between mine. I take another step and follow her out of the rift and into an unknown future. Or past. I can’t tell by glancing around. The stench of rotten vegetables and long-forgotten trash makes me gag, and I release Cas’s hand and use mine to cover my nose and mouth.
Someone passes the mouth of the alley, and I automatically duck behind the nearby Dumpster, unsurprised when Cas follows me. But no one appears, wielding an electroray and demanding our identification credentials.
Cas coughs again, nearly doubling over with the effort it takes to breathe. She finishes, and a healthy dose of concern flows through me. Whatever’s happening to her could happen to me.
I don’t feel any different, but I’ve only been through a rift twice. I have no idea how many times Cas has walked, but Soda told me she’s known about the rift for five years. That she went back and forth for months before smuggling Soda and her mom to safety. And over the past six months, Price couldn’t stop talking about Cascade and her rift-walking. I may not have looked like I was listening, but I was.
He always paid me the same favor when I brooded over Soda’s move. Price is like my brother, and I can’t lose him too.
I won’t.
“Let’s see if we can figure out when we are,” Cascade suggests.
I don’t know how she plans to do this, but it’s the best idea we have. “I need access to a computer,” I say. “And then we can see if there’s anything with Price or his family.”
“The library,” she says, leaving the safety of the Dumpster and striding toward the sidewalk. I follow, because while I know where the library in Castle Pines is in 2073, I know it wasn’t always in Liberty Square.
I’ve never paid much attention to the history of Castle Pines. I never needed to. I had the Circuit, and the jams Price and I used to carry out. I wasn’t interested in where we’d come from, only where we were going.
And I hadn’t liked where we were going. Still, I never looked to the past to see if those people had gotten anything right. When Cooper left, and then Soda moved, I lost my drive for, well, everything.
But now, walking down the street with Cascade, I feel the old inklings of my former self emerging. Someone needs me again.
“Future,” I murmur to Cas as I take in the clothes of the people on the streets.
“Mm,” she agrees. “Not too far, though.”
“Ten years?” I guess.
“Not sure.” Her eyes dart left, right, left right, and mine do the same. I don’t see anyone watching us, anyone leaning in a doorway, doing nothing, anyone with clothes that aren’t quite right.
We finally arrive at the library, a building made of glass from top to bottom. Definitely not the same library I use in 2073.
Everything inside is white, reminding me of the rift. Cascade seems to know where to go, and I hang back a couple of steps and let her lead. Up a set of stairs, she arrives at a long stretch of, well, a wall. Tall stools are spaced every few feet, and down the line, I see someone perched on one, tapping on the wall.
“Cas.” I nod in the direction of the guy wearing a pair of black gloves with colored fingertips. Red for the pointer finger, then blue on the middle, green on the ring, and orange on the pinky and thumb.
“We need gloves.” Cas turns around like she expects a robotic butler to appear, holding a tray of techno gloves.
While she goes in search of the equipment we need, I step up to the wall. It’s mostly smooth, like what normal walls are made of. But a strip runs down the length of it, at eye height for the stools, made of panels about a foot square. They’re opaque, almost yellow. I tap on the screen, and a message pops up.