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Authors: Suzanne Brockmann
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her. Chuck couldn’t stop his feelings of elation. He wanted to sing, to dance dizzily with her in circles, spinning and jumping and whirling like crazy until they fell, laughing, together on the ground.
But what he had to do instead was stop kissing her.
It took everything Chuck had in him to pull back. And even then, it was only the fact that they were in danger that made him stop.
“We have to get out of here.” His voice sounded hoarse.
“We can go to my place.” He could hear her desire in her voice, see it in her eyes. God, she thought he was talking about …
“I mean, we can if you want,” she added more softly, almost uncertainly.
I want, he wanted to tell her.
God, do I want.…
“No, Mags,” he said instead, “I meant whoever did this might come back. And if they do, I want us far from here.”
“Who
was
that? Who would shoot at
us
?” Maggie started to get up, but he grabbed her wrist and kept her down, her head lower than the hoods of the cars surrounding them.
As Chuck got to his feet he stayed in a crouch,too, reaching around the car to grab the bag that he’d dropped. “Not us—me.” Taking her hand and staying low to the ground, he started moving between the cars.
“But why?”
She figured it out herself, and as he answered they spoke in unison. “The Wells Project.”
She was quick to add, “You said the men from Wizard-9 didn’t follow you here. You said they couldn’t.”
“I didn’t think they could. I
know
I disabled the prototype.” Chuck frowned. “I also know they destroyed my lab at Data Tech. I assumed the working model of the Runabout and the other equipment were in there at the time.” He glanced back at her. “And you know that old saying about the word
assume
.”
“You mean, when you assume, you and me get a bullet in the ass?”
Chuck had to laugh. Somehow the direst, most serious thing that could have happened
had
happened. Wizard-9 agents had followed him into the past, using techniques he himself had written about to find him. The ripple effect. Or the displacement theory. It was possible to trace the Runabout as it traveled through time using either of those theories.Neither was one hundred percent accurate, but obviously Wizard-9 had been close enough.
But despite the danger, Maggie had still managed to make him laugh.
Still, the situation was extremely sobering. The latest working model of the Runabout could hold four travelers for each leap in time. The technology was still in its early stages, and for the first time since the Wells Project went on-line, Chuck was grateful for that. Even in this advanced version of the Runabout, the energy source required at least ninety-six hours for its various components to cool and reset before another jump through time could be made.
He had to figure it had taken the Wizard-9 agents a full twenty-four hours to track him here to the mall. It had probably taken them a whole lot less than that, but he estimated high just to be safe.
That left him only seventy-two hours. After seventy-two hours, he’d be a dead man. After seventy-two hours, Wizard-9 would be able to make another leap through time. This time, they’d arrive before him, and when he made the jump, when he arrived naked and disoriented in Maggie’s backyard, they’d be there waiting. And they’d kill him.
Maggie tugged on his hand. “My car’s over this way.”
He shook his head. Seventy-two hours. God, the clock was ticking. “We can’t risk taking it. If this
is
Wizard-9, then they’ve already found your car and rigged it with some kind of tracking device. Or a bomb.”
“A bomb!” Even Maggie couldn’t make a joke about that. “Like … a
bomb
?”
“A bomb,” Chuck told her. “Like the one they planted that took out most of the White House.”
“If they could find my car in this parking lot, then they’ve surely found my house,” Maggie said.
“That’s right,” Chuck said, moving down the line of parked cars,
But what he had to do instead was stop kissing her.
It took everything Chuck had in him to pull back. And even then, it was only the fact that they were in danger that made him stop.
“We have to get out of here.” His voice sounded hoarse.
“We can go to my place.” He could hear her desire in her voice, see it in her eyes. God, she thought he was talking about …
“I mean, we can if you want,” she added more softly, almost uncertainly.
I want, he wanted to tell her.
God, do I want.…
“No, Mags,” he said instead, “I meant whoever did this might come back. And if they do, I want us far from here.”
“Who
was
that? Who would shoot at
us
?” Maggie started to get up, but he grabbed her wrist and kept her down, her head lower than the hoods of the cars surrounding them.
As Chuck got to his feet he stayed in a crouch,too, reaching around the car to grab the bag that he’d dropped. “Not us—me.” Taking her hand and staying low to the ground, he started moving between the cars.
“But why?”
She figured it out herself, and as he answered they spoke in unison. “The Wells Project.”
She was quick to add, “You said the men from Wizard-9 didn’t follow you here. You said they couldn’t.”
“I didn’t think they could. I
know
I disabled the prototype.” Chuck frowned. “I also know they destroyed my lab at Data Tech. I assumed the working model of the Runabout and the other equipment were in there at the time.” He glanced back at her. “And you know that old saying about the word
assume
.”
“You mean, when you assume, you and me get a bullet in the ass?”
Chuck had to laugh. Somehow the direst, most serious thing that could have happened
had
happened. Wizard-9 agents had followed him into the past, using techniques he himself had written about to find him. The ripple effect. Or the displacement theory. It was possible to trace the Runabout as it traveled through time using either of those theories.Neither was one hundred percent accurate, but obviously Wizard-9 had been close enough.
But despite the danger, Maggie had still managed to make him laugh.
Still, the situation was extremely sobering. The latest working model of the Runabout could hold four travelers for each leap in time. The technology was still in its early stages, and for the first time since the Wells Project went on-line, Chuck was grateful for that. Even in this advanced version of the Runabout, the energy source required at least ninety-six hours for its various components to cool and reset before another jump through time could be made.
He had to figure it had taken the Wizard-9 agents a full twenty-four hours to track him here to the mall. It had probably taken them a whole lot less than that, but he estimated high just to be safe.
That left him only seventy-two hours. After seventy-two hours, he’d be a dead man. After seventy-two hours, Wizard-9 would be able to make another leap through time. This time, they’d arrive before him, and when he made the jump, when he arrived naked and disoriented in Maggie’s backyard, they’d be there waiting. And they’d kill him.
Maggie tugged on his hand. “My car’s over this way.”
He shook his head. Seventy-two hours. God, the clock was ticking. “We can’t risk taking it. If this
is
Wizard-9, then they’ve already found your car and rigged it with some kind of tracking device. Or a bomb.”
“A bomb!” Even Maggie couldn’t make a joke about that. “Like … a
bomb
?”
“A bomb,” Chuck told her. “Like the one they planted that took out most of the White House.”
“If they could find my car in this parking lot, then they’ve surely found my house,” Maggie said.
“That’s right,” Chuck said, moving down the line of parked cars,
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