White Shadows

Interlude 6 - There Are Some Things You Can't Outrun

Jensen slammed the phone down in panic, realizing his fatal mistake too late. He should never have called Holly from home - now he'd finally been traced.

Now they were coming - the Air Force, ready to strike. They planned to finish the job Holly had started five years ago. Already, the carpet-bombing of the Free City of Tahoe (free no more, now) sent vibrations through the ground.

Roaring into Protective Paternal Mode, Jensen hustled Park and Florin out of the basement and into the parking lot. Then he ran into the condo next door and ordered everyone out right away.

The Snow boys and Fionna hastily hung up a phone, tossing it aside.

Annie and Thompson walked Juliet down from the loft bedrooms.

Kyle and Freddie scrambled out of their beds on the ground floor.

Harlan tugged on Marian's and Elijah's hands, dragging them out the front door. "Jensen!" Marian called in. "Jensen, hurry up!"

"Go!" Thompson ordered Annie, hanging back to make sure, along with Jensen, that the condo was deserted.

The black northern sky was purged by a powerful white glow. "They're breaching the 'verses again," Jensen whispered. "They're all gonna die."

"All those Primers we can't help from here," Thompson said ruefully.

"I was talking about Holly's Air Force," Jensen said. "That's a surefire way to kill yourself, that express elevator to Prime."

"That too," Thompson said. "All clear. Are we ready to leave?"

"Let's go," Jensen said, standing aside so Thompson could go down the stairs to the ground floor first.

The vibrations grew closer, and stronger, with each passing second. Jensen heard his wife, whom he'd barely had any time to speak to since she'd made her unexpected return, still calling for him. "Let go of me!" she cried - who was holding her back? "Jensen! They're almost here! Get-"

The building trembled violently as something impacted on the roof, punching through it from above. Timbers rained down on Jensen and Thompson both - and then came another burst of light, accompanied by scorching heat for maybe one nanosecond.

Next thing Jensen knew, though, he was on one side of a restaurant table, with Thompson at his side. Across the table was a medium-height, well-built young man with rectangular black glasses and a bright orange beanie covering most of his head.

They could almost have been grandfather, father, and son.

"Do I know you?" Jensen asked.

"Jensen Troy, meet Steven Walker," Thompson said, gesturing to both men in turn. "He was friends with the Primers we brought in, including the Breakers, and..." He stopped, then looked around the crowded restaurant. "If we're seeing you...oh no. We must have-"

"We're dead," Jensen breathed, the cold realization settling in at last.

"It's all right, guys," Steven said, holding up his hands. "You'll get used to it. Now...how can we figure out a way back?"

"We can't go back," Thompson said automatically. "The multiverse is designed to prevent-"

Quickly, Steven amended his earlier statement. "Not permanently," he said, taking something out of his blue UCLA hoodie pocket. "I just promised my friends I'd give them a postcard from the Third 'Verse. So...let's figure this out. Do you know the way to San Jose? Metaphorically speaking, that is."

"Perhaps Elijah was right," Thompson muttered. "The Third 'Verse is all about dreams, so it makes even less sense than Prime or Second."

Jensen, however, could only think about one thing. Annie. Russell. Harlan. Marian. Oh God...I'm so sorry I left you guys. One tear dripped from each of his eyes as he stared morosely at a plate of pesto tilapia he didn't even remember ordering.