Tim Lebbon - Coldbrook

‘How far?’

‘Everywhere,’ he said.

‘Washington? New York? What about south, how far south?’

‘Everywhere, Holly. South America. Europe. It’s. .’ He heard her repeating this information, and even below the helicopter’s thudding rotors he heard Jonah’s voice.

‘Pass it over,’ Jonah said in the background, then he was on the line. ‘Vic. It’s good to hear you. But Europe?’

‘We think so.’

‘Where are you now?’

‘We’re airborne from Baltimore back to Cincinnati.’

‘Is Baltimore okay? What the hell were you doing there?’

‘No, it’s fucked,’ Vic said. Marc was leaning back over the seats with his hand held out, gesturing with his fingers: Pass the phone . ‘Jonah, Marc wants to talk,’ Vic said. ‘But you’re okay down there?’

‘Yes,’ Jonah said, but everything about the tone of his voice said No! ‘Sitting here right now with my other.’

‘Your what?’ Vic said, confused.

‘From over there. My opposite, from through the breach. It’s seriously fucked there, too.’

‘Oh, Jesus.’ Vic stared at Jayne where she leaned against Sean. Her eyes were drooping, and her skin looked incredibly pale. It wasn’t just the early-morning light. ‘Jonah, we went to Baltimore to get someone who’s immune.’

‘Immune?’ Jonah said. Behind his voice Vic heard others, a babble of excitement. One was Holly’s; he didn’t recognise anyone else’s.

‘Here. Marc.’ Vic passed him the phone and sat back down.

‘Are we going to see Uncle Jonah?’ Olivia asked, and Vic shook his head, stroking her chin when she pouted in disappointment.

Marc talked briefly into the phone, then snapped it shut.

‘That was quick,’ Lucy said.

‘Yeah.’

‘So who was that?’ Sean asked.

‘Friends of ours,’ Vic said. He didn’t think explaining would be for the best. We made a hole into another reality and the zombie plague came through and I let it out and now it’s spread everywhere and. .

‘Glad they’re safe,’ Sean said.

‘Me too.’

Marc was talking to Gary, headphones pulled back so they could communicate directly. Gary was shaking his head slowly, tapping a couple of dials on the control display before him. Marc became more animated, glancing back into the cabin. He was looking at where Jayne and Sean sat with their backs to him, and Vic knew what was being discussed even before Marc addressed them.

‘Change of plan,’ Marc said.

‘We’re going to Coldbrook,’ Vic said. ‘Good idea.’

‘Hope so.’ Marc gave him a piercing glare, then turned around again.

‘Why are we going back there?’ Lucy asked. ‘I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to see .’

‘Not Danton Rock,’ Vic said. ‘Straight to Coldbrook.’ He didn’t want to see what had become of their home town either.

He realised that Marc had kept his satphone, but he couldn’t really blame him.

Gary turned the helicopter and the angle of sunlight across the cabin changed. Back to Coldbrook. Scene of the crime .

Lucy leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder, and Vic found himself looking at Sean. They exchanged a smile. It did nothing to fill Vic’s hollow heart.

We’re the different sides of the same coin , Jonah thought, but even that idea felt wrong. As he watched Drake sitting upright at Coldbrook’s library table, nervous and proud, gaze constantly flickering to the wall of books that gave the room depth and warmth, the truth was much more miraculous. They were more than like-minded.

‘It’s not the best,’ Jonah said. ‘I smashed my last bottle of Irish. This is a nasty blended make. Cheap. Harsh. But we’ll just have to make do.’ He poured two fingers into each of the four glasses, and felt everyone’s stare upon him.

‘Jameson’s was my father’s favourite,’ Drake said. ‘But I’ve never tried it. Someone from our Coldbrook once found a bottle of Knob Creek.’ He took the glass that Jonah offered him, smiling his thanks. ‘For days after I couldn’t see straight.’

‘That’s some rough stuff,’ Jonah agreed, lifting his own glass. Holly took her drink, still shaken. She was sitting very close to Jonah, and he could feel the fear coming off her in waves. Beside Drake was a woman who’d introduced herself as Moira. A lovely Welsh name , Jonah had said, but the woman had not reacted.

‘We should drink a toast,’ Jonah said. Drake and Moira startled him by standing, and he and Holly followed suit.

Drake stared unflinchingly at Jonah. There was an ease between them that was almost friendship. It felt good, but Jonah could not yet bring himself to trust it, not after what Holly had told him. Everything was so strange.

‘Five days ago I drank to success,’ Jonah said.

‘Huh. Well, then, how about to survival?’ Holly raised her glass to Drake. ‘You’ve managed it for forty years. We’ve only just begun.’ Before anyone else could echo her toast she drank the whisky, grimacing slightly as she sat down and placed the glass on the table.

‘Survival,’ Jonah said, and Drake and Moira agreed. They drank, Jonah refilled everyone’s glass, and they made themselves comfortable again.

Fourteen other people had shot their way through the breach with Drake. They had not lost one person to the furies. Two of them had collapsed in Control, and one was still unconscious. The effect of the breach, Drake had said, and Jonah had noted Holly nodding in understanding. I’ll feel that soon , he’d thought. Because there was one thing he was determined to do, furies or no furies, Inquisitor or no Inquisitor. And that was to see Earth as it was in another universe. He’d spent so much of his life seeking it, and despite everything he could not deny himself that experience.

Holly had yet to make a full inventory of the damage done to their control room, but Jonah didn’t want any buttons pushed in case processes started or ended accidentally. The breach itself was stable, linked directly through the core, but there were a hundred other accidents waiting to happen.

Three other Gaians were in the library with them, delightedly perusing the walls of books. Jonah had already realised that their ragged appearance belied their intelligence.

‘I’m sorry about the man I hit,’ Holly said. ‘And the breach guards. .’

Jonah noted Moira’s expression hardening, but Drake nodded. ‘And we apologise for Mannan,’ he said.

Holly waved a hand, dismissing something she had yet to tell Jonah about. She poured more whisky and sipped, sighing and sinking into her chair.

‘So, welcome to our Earth,’ Jonah said.

‘Take me to your leader,’ Drake said.

‘If only I could.’ Jonah’s smile became heavy. ‘After Coldbrook’s power went down, I lost track of what was happening up above. But Holly’s filled me in. She said you’re able to see through the eyes of the furies?’

‘Our casting technology, yes.’

‘You built a window, we made a door,’ Holly said.

‘You’re still one step ahead of me,’ said Jonah. ‘I’m the only person in the room who’s still a one-world horse.’

‘We must change that,’ Drake said.

‘This casting. . how do you do it? Is there temporal dislocation? How does the targeting work?’

‘I can tell you,’ Drake said. ‘But I’m sure you’d rather see for yourself, wouldn’t you?’

‘Probably not,’ Holly said. ‘It was. . horrible.’

‘We’ve come from a dead world to see your world dying,’ Drake said.

Jonah felt a spark of anger. ‘We’re not finished yet. There’s hope.’

‘Hope?’ Moira mocked.