There are twenty trunks filled with time-travel research, in total. It’ll take me years to read through them all.

I can’t wait to see what he’s discovered.

51

Dorothy

NOVEMBER 10, 2077, NEW SEATTLE

Dorothy didn’t remember making her way back to the Black Crow or climbing into the pilot’s seat. But, suddenly, there she was. The leather was cool beneath her legs. The dashboard gleamed before her.

Mac climbed into the seat beside her, gun aimed at her face. “You can fly this thing, right?”

Dorothy swallowed, her eyes moving over the dashboard.

She had to check that the wing flaps were . . . yes, they were up. And now the carburetor needed to be put in position. She pushed the throttle to 3,000 RPMs, her eyes flicking to the EM gauge. Full capacity. Good.

Her heartbeat felt like gunfire inside of her chest. She could do this.

And then she looked up, and saw Roman’s body lying in the ashes, illuminated by the time machine’s headlights. Something caught in her throat. She fumbled with her seat belt.

“We can’t just leave him there,” she said, grasping for the door.

Mac grabbed her shoulder, pinning her back in place. He lifted his gun, almost lazily, so that it pointed between her eyes. “The only reason you’re not lying on the ground next to him is that I need someone to fly this piece of shit.” He pressed the cold barrel of his gun into her skin. “You got that?”

Dorothy had a hard time drawing in breath. What were her options? She supposed she could refuse. She could stay here, in this ruined city. Only that wasn’t really a choice, was it? There was nothing here. There was no one here.

She found herself reaching for the yoke, fingers numbly switching dials and flipping buttons. Mac lowered his gun.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, voice dripping with condescension. Dorothy’s eyes closed for a moment, bile rising in her throat.

“The Black Crow is moving into position for departure,” she said. Somehow, she managed to bring the time machine to hover, and flew them across the barren landscape, and back into the anil. She piloted the Black Crow through the tunnel of stars and purple clouds and black sky. She blinked hard, refusing to cry as the air around her thickened, growing heavy and wet. Water pounded against the windshield, making the glass creak.

And then they were surfacing, and New Seattle’s ominous, dark skyline lay before them.

Home sweet home, Dorothy thought, numb.

52

Ash

NOVEMBER 10, 2077, NEW SEATTLE

“Oh my God, you’re alive.”

That was Chandra. Willis stood beside her, aggressively washing a teapot in the kitchen sink, but he looked up at the sound of Chandra’s voice. It was very late, and Ash had only just made it back to the schoolhouse, somehow managing to pull himself through the window and down the hallway to the kitchen. He groaned as Zora launched herself across the room and into his arms.