Blake looked at Tobias helplessly. “Sometimes things just happen that are beyond our control.”
“Not ours!” Tobias yelled, and the gun shook in his hand. His voice turned to a whisper. “Save them this time.”
He pulled the trigger.
The room exploded with a noise that battered Blake’s eardrums. Tobias’s frail body jerked sideways to the mattress, and his fingers spasmed, releasing the pistol. If Blake hadn’t been deafened by the shot he would have heard the gun as it landed on the carpet.
For several moments, Blake stood there in frozen shock. He’d never truly thought Tobias would go through with it and now that it had been done, Blake contemplated undoing what had just happened. With the press of a button it would be possible, but it would be wasted. While the device could handle multiple teleportations, there was only enough charge for one more time jump. And if he took that action, the final repercussion would be yet another copy of himself in the timeline.
When Blake recovered enough to move, he stepped closer to the bed and squatted down to grab the Colt .45, staring at it in disbelief. Dimly, he was aware that the buzzing in his ears had subsided. He opened his hand and the pistol fell once again. He heard it that time. A lone, dull thud.
Dammit. Tobias had forced his hand. The timeline had been set. The police would soon arrive, followed by Ethan and Art. Blake’s eyes touched on Tobias’s body, remembering how the room had looked when he’d arrived there a lifetime ago. The position of the unmoving body, the blood that had splashed against the wall — all of it, just the way it had been before.
Turning from the bloody display, he went to the fake wall in the closet, opened it, and did the same to the iron safe. Perhaps he could alter history’s course, here at this moment, if Ethan never finds anything to … investigate.
With the safe open Blake studied its contents, noting the investigative files Tobias had left behind. But something was wrong. There was no Rubáiyát and there was no watch. They were both … gone? Who had taken them? Then a sudden epiphany struck him: He had been the one to place the watch and Rubáiyát in the safe. Playing his part in the cycle, as he always had.
His success depended on being able to predict the imminent future. If the timeline wasn’t set, he would never be able to pinpoint Ethan’s exact movements. Small changes in Ethan’s choices now could disrupt everything. If the watch and book were not here, he would never discover them and might not begin his investigation. Still, Ethan would return here regardless; Tobias had already left his message on the answering machine. Wallace’s attack squad would still come as well. He would have to intercept Ethan somewhere else down the timeline, but not while Jackman’s men were descending on the estate.
Pulling the book from his jacket, Blake placed it in the safe and then struggled to remove the watch. It took a while, given his limitations with one hand and the tenacity of the claw hooks. After what seemed like an eternity, the coiled barbs sprang from his arm, and droplets of blood spattered to the carpet, unnoticed. He began to work on ejecting the meteorite fragment from the base. This took a bit more effort, and Blake swore as precious seconds passed. Finally, the latch opened and the fragment plopped out into his palm. He situated the watch in its correct position inside the safe, as he’d found it before, and put the fragment in his pocket.
Now he just had to figure out how to stop the Russians and end the cycle for good. To do that, he needed a bit of time and space to think. He took another quick glance at the items in the safe and then snatched up two stacks of money that were held together with rubber bands. Ethan wouldn’t need all the cash Tobias left him.
Ethan would come back here tomorrow morning and almost get caught by Jackman and his team. At this point, Blake would do anything to stop himself from traveling back, even if it meant waiting at Ethan’s apartment and putting a bullet in every last one of Jackman’s men.
A troubling memory crept up. Blake ran his hand across his hair, and it reminded him of something. He looked down at his attire. The black leather jacket. His buzz-cut hair.
Oh my God!
He hadn’t changed a damn thing. He’d already tried that attempt before and was gunned down just outside of his own apartment. Hex’s words fluttered through his consciousness, “You can’t change shit.” He’d have to take a different route and pray that Hex wasn’t right. It was easy; he just wouldn’t make the same mistake this time.
Blake mentally shook himself. He needed to get out of Tobias’s house before Sergeant Davis showed up. He left the closet and exited Tobias’s room without looking back. At the front door, he hit the button to re-open the gate.
The key holder by the entryway caught his eye. All of the hooks were empty. You’ve gotta be kidding me! Blake reached in his pocket, fingers brushing against the old key ring with the Steelers logo.
His conversation with Wallace on the beach in Adelaide came back to him and the impact of what he was facing hit him like a concrete wall. Switching things up was going to be more difficult than he’d imagined. He had to play it smart; his avenues were limited before the circle became unstoppable again.
So he put the keys on the hook, knowing Ethan would snatch them up in a few short hours.
Blake had almost gotten to the curb when he stopped. Something wasn’t right. It took him a second to process, but finally he realized it was the trashcans. Where are they? A backward glance told him. They were sitting by the three car garage.
He remembered feeling unsettled by seeing those trashcans at the curb the day he’d left the scene of Tobias’s suicide. He’d damn well make sure it stayed that way or it could throw everything off. He ran back to the grab the bins and hauled them both to the street.
This was all becoming more confusing by the minute.
But his plan for now was simple. He would shadow Ethan’s apartment tonight and track his movements. He’d have to tread carefully so that everything remained unsullied. For now, all he could do was watch. And wait.
Blake crossed the gated entrance with the trashcans in tow and left them by the curb. He was so fixated on his plans that he didn’t bother to close the gate.
51
It’s a Wonderful Knife
Ethan was standing on the curb in front of Tobias’s large estate, the expression on his face distant. Blake remembered the thoughts running through his head when he’d stood outside the house that day.
He watched Ethan from his vantage point behind the steering wheel of a recently acquired ‘85 Toyota Corolla. It had been a quick purchase, using up most of the money he’d swiped from Tobias’s safe. The car wasn’t too flashy, but it worked to his benefit for concealment by blending in with the crowd of nondescript vehicles on the street.
He’d told the man at the dealership he was purchasing the car for business. When the salesman saw the stack of cash in Blake’s hand, he’d kicked into full gear, urging Blake to have a mobile phone installed in the car. According to the sales pitch it was all the rage, and if anyone wanted to thrive in today’s business world it was a must. Blake hated to switch gears on his cover story, and since he had time to burn, he allowed the man his commission. Conveniently enough, the salesman had close ties to a neighboring mobile phone business so this was Blake’s lucky day for a ‘special’ price.
While he waited for the installation, he’d grabbed something to eat and rested for a bit. Blake needed the break; fatigue was catching up to him.