“Don’t send anyone else!” Ellis shouted from above as he and Pax scrambled down the stairs to the cluster surrounding the wounded geomancers. “He’ll kill anyone who comes close.”
“Who’s he?” Geo-1 asked.
“Warren Eckard.”
“Another Darwin?”
“Yes. He has a gun and will shoot anyone coming near. He must have discovered we’re spacing the other bombs and intends to make certain this one goes off. He’ll probably wait until the last second and then port out.”
“Can you—can Prometheus create a portway to the bomb?” Pax asked. “Isolate it?”
Geo-1 nodded. “But it won’t help. Portways are tunnels with open ends. When the explosion goes off, half the force will blow back through here, ripping GI apart.”
“Like the barrel of a gun,” Ellis said. He glanced at his new watch: 00:14:53.“I’m going to need a Port-a-Call.”
“I’ve got one,” Pax said firmly. “And yes, I know what you’re thinking—and no, that’s not going to happen unless you shoot me dead. And yes, you’re right, we don’t have time to argue. So let’s go.”
“Promise to admit to me how you do that, and you can come.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know if we live through this.”
“Deal.”
“You might want to have everyone evacuate,” Pax said.
“Yeah.” Ellis nodded.
Geo-1 turned to Geo-3. “Call it. Purge Hollow World—everyone to the surface.”
“I hope they still remember the drill,” Geo-3 said.
“In fifteen minutes, if we’re all still here, you’ll know if we were successful. If not…”
“What are you going to do?” Geo-1 asked.
Ellis drew out the pistol. It felt cold. “Stop him.”
Chapter Fourteen
Time’s Up
Ellis refused to wear a suit. It would take time, but more importantly it would hide who he was. Warren thought nothing of shooting “the baldies,” but he might think twice about shooting him.
For all his bravado, Ellis really didn’t expect to kill Warren. It wouldn’t come to that. If he absolutely had to, Ellis would just wing him, shoot him in the arm or leg and kick his gun away like they did in the westerns he and Warren had grown up watching. He remembered how the digital watch had blinked 12:00 just before he set the time—high noon—the traditional time for a showdown gunfight.
Warren wouldn’t really shoot me, would he?
The Warren Eckard he knew in 2014 wouldn’t, but this was Master Ren. Something fundamental had happened to him in that cabin in the woods. That experience had changed his friend, profoundly. For one, it got him to read the Bible, and Ellis hadn’t imagined anything would ever do that. Somewhere in those pages he had found permission to beat and kill. Warren had developed calluses on more than just his hands.
With the clock reading 00:12:53, Ellis and Pax stepped out into the portway tunnel that crossed the molten Sea of Gehenna. An eerie silence—just a faint hum that came from the stream of portals. Sound didn’t pass through the barrier any more than water, heat, or the vacuum of space. This was good, because they were walking through a bubbling ocean of rock, and he was pretty sure at this distance both of them would have already evaporated.
“Stay behind me,” he told Pax.
The tunnel ran in a straight line, and even in the brilliance of the Sea of Gehenna, Ellis thought he could see two wavering objects in the distance, like cars on the horizon of a sunbaked highway. This was the apocalyptic hellscape he’d been expecting, but he had never thought that he and Warren would be the two road warriors facing off.
Maybe it wasn’t Warren at all. Maybe Pol was there, or Dex, or Hig, but Ellis couldn’t imagine Warren giving his gun to anyone. Still, they might have all left by now. Maybe Delta team had caught Warren just as they were wheeling the bomb through, and, after shooting, they had jumped back through the portal to Firestone Farm. The bomb might just be sitting there ticking. And maybe Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny shared a condo in Tampa—and maybe Isley didn’t kill himself, and Peggy didn’t become an alcoholic because I’m a selfish ass. Maybewas just a convenient shield to hide behind when realityproved to be a bitch.
Reality’s bitchiness didn’t let Ellis down. As they got closer, he could see the white plastic crate; beside it stood Warren. He was alone, dressed in a radiation suit, but the hood and gloves were off and lying on the ground in front of him. He was busy fumbling with something and didn’t notice their approach.
“Goddammit!” Warren cursed at the thing in his hands. “Fucking piece of shit.”
Ellis kept the gun in front of him, cupped for firing just as he’d been taught, but he aimed the barrel at the ground. In his mind, he imagined he looked like one of those dashing detectives rushing up a New York City stairwell. In reality, he felt sick and was sweating so hard he wondered if the heat really was leaking through the tunnel.
“Warren,” Ellis said, his voice a little shaky.
Warren’s head jerked up. As it did, Ellis saw the Port-a-Call in his hands.
Fear flashed on Warren’s face, then confusion, and finally a nod. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Rogers.”
“I told you I wasn’t going to let you do it. And I found my gun. Move away from the bomb.” Ellis looked for Warren’s rifle, but didn’t see it. “We’ve neutralized the other bombs you placed. All five of them.”
Warren narrowed his eyes, then laughed. “Nice try, but you’re lying. We only ever had the three.”
“Thanks for confirming that,” Ellis said, and watched as it took a second for Warren to scowl. Then Ellis raised the barrel of the gun a bit. “Now back up. I don’t want to shoot you, but I will if I have to.”
“You’d shoot me? You’d fucking shoot me? I’m your best friend, Ellis. I protected you in school. I got you your first real job. I loaned you the money for your first car. I was the best man at your goddamn wedding! And you’re gonna shoot me? No fucking way.”
“To save millions of people—you’re damn right.”
“They aren’t people. You and I are the last real humans, Ellis. All these others”—he pointed at Pax—“are an abomination—test-tube sideshow freaks. This is our one chance to fix it. Don’t you see? That’s why we were sent here. That’s why God chucked us through time. He needed our help in putting His world back together. God needs us to kill off these abominations so that His real children can fulfill the scriptures. You have to be able to see that.”
Ellis shook his head, taking slow steps forward. He wanted to close the distance in case he did have to shoot. He wasn’t a good shot. He’d only fired the gun a few times. He’d managed to hit Hal because he was at point-blank range. Warren probably wouldn’t let him get that close. “I have a problem anytime anyone uses killand Godin the same sentence.”
“That’s because you haven’t read the Bible. God— the real God, not the liberal-bullshit-hippie God—is like a Mafia boss. The God of the Bible ordered killings all the time. Ordered his number one follower—Abraham—to kill his own son. Talk about some messed-up shit. Then He had Moses slaughter all those Egyptians and the others who were on the wrong side when he came down the mountain—they changed that scene for the movie The Ten Commandments, but it happened. And God ordered Joshua to take out Jericho—killed a whole city, every man, woman, and child slaughtered. Why? To make room for His chosen people. And that’s what I’m doing. That’s what God wants usto do.”
“Not today.” Ellis took a step forward. “Now back up—I mean it, Warren.”