D. MacHale - The Pilgrims of Rayne

“I love you too, Courtney,” Mark said softly. “I guess this is the way it was really meant to be.”

Courtney raised the pistol, squinting through her tears. Mark tensed up. He closed his eyes. Courtney took aim. She tightened her finger on the trigger. Nobody moved. The moment stayed frozen for an eternity. Courtney blinked, took a step to her right, and tossed the pistol overboard. It fell into the dark ocean, lost in the swirl of the ship’s wake. Mark let out a breath he had been holding for a long time. Courtney ran to him and hugged him. Both let out the rush of emotions through their tears.

“Courtney!” Dodger shouted. “What are you doing?”

“I think I’m changing history,” she answered. “Mark was killed on this ship. Now he’s safe. Maybe I just bought us some more time to make things right.” She looked at Mark and added, “I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” he said. “But I’m not going to change my mind.”

“About what?” came a woman’s voice.

Mr. and Mrs. Dimond approached the group, arm in arm.

“Is everything okay?” Mr. Dimond asked.

“Everything’s fine,” Mark said, though it didn’t sound to anybody as if he meant it.

Mr. Dimond said, “We’re still trying to understand all this, Courtney. We want to help you, and help Bobby. What can we do?”

Courtney looked at Mark. Mark looked away. She looked at Dodger, who gave her a helpless shrug. “It’s your show.”

The Dimonds huddled close to each other, waiting for Courtney to speak. Courtney had gotten to know the Dimonds once she and Mark had become acolytes. She thought they were terrific. The idea that she would want them to die, no matter how right history said that would be, was painful to Courtney. She wanted everything to be better and for the Dimonds to live their lives the way they were meant to. As she stood on the back of that ship, feeling hopelessly lost, a thought came to her.

“Maybe you can help,” she said. “Maybe you’re the only ones who can help.”

“Anything,” Mrs. Dimond said.

“You said Mark told you everything? About Halla and Saint Dane and the Travelers, right?”

“We’re still in shock,” Mrs. Dimond said.

“How much did you tell him? I mean about what happened with the flight to Florida?”

The Dimonds looked at each other with confusion.

“There isn’t much to tell,” Mr. Dimond said. “We didn’t get on the plane. If we had, we wouldn’t be here, right?”

“Yeah, but why didn’t you get on the plane?” Courtney asked, her mind racing. “Mark thinks that by coming to First Earth he set in motion a series of events that saved your lives. I want to know what that was. What stopped you from getting on that plane?”

Mr. Dimond shrugged. “It was Nevva Winter. She caught us just as we were about to board. I thought Mark knew.” Courtney shot a look to Mark.

Mark slowly shook his head and said softly, “I didn’t know that.”

Courtney closed her eyes and smiled. It was such a feeling of relief that she wanted to fall to her knees and cry.

“Is it that important?” Mr. Dimond asked.”It’s everything,” Courtney said. “Mark, that’s your proof. Nevva knew what was going to happen and stopped your parents from boarding. She’s from another territory. Nothing you’re going to do here will have any effect on her. Or on that plane. It’s still going to crash. Your parents are alive because Saint Dane saved them, in order to convince you to do exactly what you’re doing.”

Mark leaned back against the railing, staring at the deck but seeing nothing. Courtney desperately hoped that things would finally start to click into place.

“Mark,” Courtney said boldly. “You can put things right, and your parents don’t have to die. Please. Help Bobby.”

Mark shot a pained look to Courtney and asked a simple, poignant question. “What have I done?”

“Nothing,” Courtney said quickly. “Not yet, anyway.”

Mark left the rail and pushed past the others, heading forward.

“Where are you going?” Mr. Dimond asked. Without stopping, Mark said, “To destroy Forge.”

(CONTINUED)

“There they are!” shouted Andy Mitchell from above.

He was at the railing of the Promenade Deck, looking down on the Main Deck, where Mark had just left the others. With him were Nevva and two ship’s officers.

“Go!” Courtney shouted.

Mark started running. Courtney and Dodger took off after him.

“Slow them down,” Courtney ordered the Dimonds.

Mark disappeared inside the ship’s structure, followed right behind by Courtney and Dodger. Andy led the officers down the outside stairs in pursuit, only to run into the Dimonds, who blocked his way at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hi, Andy,” Mr. Dimond said jovially.

“Get out of the way!” Andy ordered.

The Dimonds held their ground. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do,” Mrs. Dimond scolded.

Andy gave her a cold look that nearly knocked her off her feet. For a brief moment his eyes flashed blue with anger.

Mrs. Dimond gasped. Andy reared back as if to hit someone, but the ship’s officer arrived behind him.

“Here now,” the officer commanded. “No need for that. They’re on a ship. They can’t hide for long.”

Andy spun to the officer, ready to lash at him. He saw Nevva standing on top of the stairs behind the officers and motioned for her to go back the other way. Andy pushed past the officer, headed back up the stairs.

Mrs. Dimond looked to her husband and said, “Can life get any stranger?”

Mark sprinted down the passageway of the Main Deck. He didn’t double back or take a route that was hard to follow. It was all about speed. Courtney and Dodger were right behind him. They no longer cared about being seen. Spending the rest of the voyage locked up no longer mattered. It had come down to this. A race. They had to get back to Mark’s suite before anyone else. Before Andy or Nevva. It was the final leg of their mission.

They had to destroy Forge.

Up ahead of them, a group of elegantly dressed passengers strolled out of the dining room, laughing and singing.

“Get out of the way!” Mark screamed.

He didn’t wait for them to obey. He ran straight at them. Men dove away, women scattered. Courtney would have laughed if she weren’t about to hit them herself. Just as the passengers gathered their wits, Courtney arrived at full speed.

“Get out of the way!” she yelled as the surprised passengers flung themselves to the walls. Courtney and Dodger flew past with no apologies.

Mark sprinted down a long passageway that was lined with elegant, white doors. He slowed down enough to focus on the door numbers, which allowed Courtney and Dodger to catch up.

“Is this it?” Courtney yelled. “Is this where your suite is?”

“Yeah,” Mark answered, gulping air while digging in his pocket for keys.

“Fast is our friend,” Courtney cautioned. “Going as fast as I can,” Mark snapped back. He stopped at a door and worked to get the key in the lock. “Mark, stop!” came a screaming voice from behind them. Andy Mitchell appeared at the far end of the passageway. “Gotta hurry, chum,” Dodger implored. Mark fumbled with the key.

“I’m too f-freaking nervous!” Mark shouted. “There!”

He twisted the key and threw the door open. All three jumped inside. Dodger closed the door behind them and locked it. Mark dove for the small wooden dresser and yanked the top drawer open, digging through socks.

Dodger turned around and whistled. “Wow, nice digs.” He plopped himself down on a couch and put his arms behind his head. “Might as well enjoy it, seeing as we’ll be spending the rest of the trip in irons.”