Adam put down the camera quickly and began scribbling on a pad of paper. He threw away several drafts until he got the note just right:
“There,” Adam murmured.
All he had to do was leave it — unobtrusively, hidden in plain sight where his younger self would find it.
No ghostly confrontations, no shock.
Simple.
Adam’s arms trembled as he picked up the camera.
Steady.
He focused again on his ten-year-old self. Slowly he moved his hand into camera range.
Both hand and note shimmered, airy outlines in the old room. He dropped the note.
He pulled the camera away.
But the note was on his floor, in the present.
Adam picked up the note. He looked through the camera again and held the note in the viewfinder’s range. Carefully he moved toward the bed and placed the note prominently on the old bedcover.
Again, he pulled the camera away.
The note was on his bed, as if the past didn’t exist. As if the whole thing was—
No.
Do. Not. Doubt.
The rules. There had to be rules for time travel.
I can’t bring anything into the past.
Maybe this was Rule Number One. It made weird sense.
Warning was out.
Rescuing was in. He’d proved that. Two lives saved. Nothing sacrificed.
Adam froze.
This is nothing like Jazz’s accident.
Two people were involved. One lived and one died.
What if rescuing Edgar meant changing everything? What if something had to be sacrificed to save him? Anything could happen.
Adam swallowed hard.
What if I die?
He’s worried about the rules now. About sacrifice.
He’s still a human.
Keep him on track.
14
CLICK.
The sound of the closing door filtered into Adam’s dream.
He awoke with a gasp.
He’d fallen asleep.
Again.
And he’d had the dream.
No. A variation of it.
In this one, Edgar lived. As Adam sank into the ice, he ran away. Ignoring Adam’s pleas. Leaving him to die (the way I left him)…
Adam’s heart was racing. He took a deep breath. Shook the thoughts out.
Do. Not. Doubt.
It was light inside. He must have slept through the night. He looked at his clock.
11:57 A.M.
Three more hours.
He swung around. His feet hit the carpet. He reached down for the videocamera.
It was gone.
“Mom? Dad?”
He bolted downstairs. His mom appeared at the bottom landing, looking concerned.
“Where’s my videocamera?” Adam asked.
“I gave it to Lianna. She’s been over three times this morning. I told her you had a rough night. But she needs to borrow it and I figured—?
Adam heard the front door click.
He ran into the front hallway. Lianna was leaving. “What are you doing?” he cried out.
Lianna let go of the door. “Adam! You scared me. I thought you were going to sleep through the whole day. You won’t believe this, but Ripley’s coming over. He wants your camera. When your mom said you were asleep, I figured I’d hide it.”
“Look, in three hours he can have the stupid camera.” Why is she doing this? “I don’t understand. I thought he wanted to go with me. That was the whole point.”
“Does anything about Ripley make sense? Maybe he wants to do it himself and take all the credit.”
Adam held out his hand. “Thanks, Lianna, but I can take care of myself.”
“He’s very persuasive. He’ll get it from you.”
“Over my dead body.”
“That is such a bad choice of words.”
Ripley wants to go into the past. I want to go into the past. And Lianna’s the one with the camera.
Paranoia. Adam tried desperately to fight it back. But he couldn’t.
“This has nothing to do with Ripley,” Adam blurted out. “You want the camera, don’t you?”
“Adam, I’m sorry. I can’t sit by and let you do this to yourself.”
Not now. Now when I’m so close.
“I saved your grandmother’s life, Lianna! I saved Jazz’s life. I can do for Edgar what I did for them. Even if you don’t believe me, just give me a chance.”
“You really had me going for a while, Adam. But I’ve been thinking about this. And I believe something’s wrong with you. Something you need to see a doctor about. Your memories are blocked, and somehow looking through a broken camera unblocks them. You’re seeing forgotten things, things that really happened—the way a hypnotist would make you see them.”
NO!
Adam reached for the camera but Lianna pulled it back. “Trust me on this, Adam,” she continued. “I haven’t wanted to tell you this, but…you won’t like what you see.”
“Why? What did I do? Have you been lying to me?”
“Don’t go there, Adam,” Lianna said levelly, backing to the front door. “Stay home.”
Lies.
She’s been misleading me for four years.
For what?
To make me wonder the rest of my life.
To protect me from the truth.
Adam wasn’t going to stand for it any longer. He lunged for the camera.
Ding-dong!
Lianna jumped toward the door and opened it.
Ripley was leaning against the doorjamb, picking his teeth. “So. When’s the big time trip?”
He nimbly lifted the videocamera from Lianna’s arms.
“NO!” Lianna and Adam yelled.
“Whoa, easy, guys,” Ripley handed the camera over to Adam. “I’m not going to eat it.”
Adam was stunned. “I thought—don’t you want—?”
“I want to come along. When you go to the lake. Like I said before.” He smiled. “Maybe I can meet your friend Edgar.”
Adam didn’t know who to believe. Or what.
Maybe Lianna was right. Maybe he needed a doctor.
But even if the camera was a fake—even if all it did was unblock his memories—wasn’t that enough?
Isn’t that all I’m after anyway?
He wasn’t sure anymore.
But he did know one thing.
This was between him and Edgar.
No one else.
“Please go home. Both of you.” He began crowding Ripley and Lianna out the door.
“Okay, okay, let’s go,” Ripley said, pulling Lianna onto the porch.
“Get your hands off me!” Lianna shook herself loose and turned to Adam. “Please, you can’t do this!”
“That’s my decision.”
He slammed the door.
Doubts, doubts, doubts.
Patience.
But he questions his sanity.
That may be his salvation.
Do you believe that?
Do you?
15
2:37.
No matter how hard Adam pedaled, Lianna and Ripley were right behind.
“WOOOOO!” Ripley shouted. “This is cool!”
“Knock it off!” Lianna shouted back. “You have no clue! He needs our help. He thinks he brought my grandmother and my dog back from the dead!”
Screaming.
She was revealing Adam’s secret to the world.
Focus.
Move.
“Maybe if this works with Edgar,” Ripley yelled, “he can bring back Minerva!”
“Who?” Lianna asked.
“My goldfish! She died when I was six!”
A joke. That’s what this was to Ripley.
Forget them.
Adam forced his legs to pump. He felt faint. Sick. Split inside between shouldn’t and must.
Must was winning.
It only needed twenty minutes.
The neighborhood houses were giving way to tall pines. Adam swerved up onto the sidewalk, then cut sharply onto the familiar dirt trail.
He gritted his teeth as his bike juddered over exposed roots.
The clearing was empty. Good.
He skidded to a stop near the narrow footpath that led to the lake.
A quick look at the watch. 2:42.
Eighteen minutes.
Adam dropped the bike. He sprinted onto the path, unslinging his backpack.
“OW!”
Lianna.
Don’t pay attention. Not enough time.
“Leave me alone, Ripley!”
Adam stopped. He spun around.
Lianna was on the ground and Ripley was huddled over her.
The jerk.
Adam sprinted back into the clearing. He grabbed Ripley’s shoulder. “Stop!”
“I’m trying to help!”
Lianna was clutching her ankle. “I think I broke it. Adam, you have to get me to the emergency room.”
“Well, I—I—? Adam looked at his watch.
“I’ll do it,” Ripley volunteered.
“No!” Lianna sprang off the ground and snatched Adam’s backpack. Startled, he tripped and fell against a tree.
“Guess the ankle’s okay,” Ripley said.
Adam clutched his head. “Give it to me, Lianna.”
“Adam, look at yourself,” Lianna replied. “You’re staggering around. You’re hysterical. Something is seriously wrong with you. I can’t let you do this stupid trick. You’ll kill yourself.”
“Give it to me!”
“Adam, you won’t be able to live with the truth!”
Adam lunged for the camera.
Lianna began to run.
“Hey!” Ripley shouted.
He and Adam both took off after Lianna. She raced into the clearing and mounted her bike.
Ripley reached her first. He grabbed hold of Lianna’s bike handle with one hand. With the other, he pulled the backpack off her.
“Ripleyyyyyy!” Lianna cried out.
“Take it!” Ripley shoved the backpack into Adam’s arms.
He was holding Lianna back. Restraining her.
Ripley.
Adam was stunned. “Thanks.”
“Just go before it’s too late!”
“NO-O-O-O-O!”
Lianna’s voice faded as Adam raced toward the lake.
He glanced at the time.
2:46.
Power switch. On.
Viewfinder. Up.
Adam looked through it.
The image was fuzzy. White. As it cleared, revealing the frozen lake, Adam panned left to right.
There. By the pine grove. Three bulky bodies. Hockey jerseys over down coats.
Edgar.
Even from this distance, he was impossible to miss. Skating around with the puck. Faking left. Right. Taunting and teasing.
The other two were skating after him.
Go to them. Now.
He had to set the camera down. Someplace where no one would see it.
Adam looked around frantically. Behind him stood a gnarled tree, with a fork about three feet off the ground.
He jammed the videocamera into the fork. Pressing his eye to the viewfinder, he focused on the trio.
They were fighting now.
This was the part Adam didn’t remember. The part Lianna had told him about. The fight between Adam and Edgar.
The fight that killed my best friend.
He managed to keep his finger on the zoom button, making the image rush closer.
The two kids were in a wrestling hold. Edgar pushed, and they split away from each other. Glaring angrily. Yelling inaudible words.
Adam got a clear look at both of their faces now.
Edgar’s.
And Lianna’s.
Lianna’s?
Adam’s younger self was off to the side, looking bewildered. Shouting something that looked like “Stop.”
No. This isn’t what happened.
This isn’t at all what Lianna said.
Young Adam was grabbing Lianna’s jersey now, trying to pull her away. Edgar was laughing, shaking his head, skating away with the puck.
With a sudden, angry swipe of her arm, Lianna broke away from Adam’s grip.
She skated after Edgar, her hockey stick chest-high.
Adam’s younger self was after her, but she’d had a big head start.
She raised the stick.
With a sharp thrust, she brought it down on Edgar’s head.
Edgar fell sharply to his knees. He clutched his skull, howling in pain.
Young Adam turned to Lianna in disbelief. She backed away silently, blankly.
Below Edgar, the ice cracked.
He fell into the water, screaming.
GO!
The older Adam ran forward, around the tree. Into the camera’s line of sight.
Blip.
Snow crunched under his shoes.
Wind lashed his face.
Edgar was about fifty yards away—floundering, bobbing in the water. Alive, but barely.
Adam—thin, scared, ten-year-old Adam the Wimp—was lying on the ice, right hand locked around Edgar’s wrist. Lianna was backing away, slack-mouthed.
As the older Adam ran, his lungs bursting, he remembered the dreams. The images he had buried under guilt and fear and misplaced trust.
It wasn’t me. It was Lianna.
“You killed him!” The words burst from his wind-seared lungs.
The young Lianna screamed, “No!”
Adam dived, his own hand outstretched.
He landed hard.
On bare ice.
Solid, snowless ice.
Edgar was gone.
The younger Adam and Lianna, nowhere.
Adam spun around.
Lianna—fourteen-year-old Lianna—was running into the woods, the video camera tucked under her arm.
We underestimated her.
Sometimes the bad guys win.
16
“NO-O-O-O-O-O-O!”
Adam sprinted back across the ice.
He saw Ripley emerge from the woods, racing after Lianna.
As Adam reached the edge of the lake, Ripley tackled Lianna to the ground. The camera tumbled away.
Adam ran for it, but Ripley was there first.
Lianna leaped onto Ripley’s back, digging her fingers into his arms. “It’s too late, Adam!”
Ripley thrust the camera toward Adam. “Go for it!”
Adam grabbed the camera. For a split second, he caught Lianna’s glance.
Desperate. Afraid.
She didn’t know he’d already seen it.
“Go!” Ripley repeated. “I’ve got her!”
Adam ran back onto the ice, digging hard. He’d have to do this on the fly, the way he’d handled Jazz’s accident. He lifted the view-finder awkwardly to his eye.
Edgar wasn’t underwater yet. The younger Adam was still on solid ice, pulling hard.
The young Lianna stood frozen. Shocked. Motionless.
Yes. This was in the dream.
But so was —
Crrrrrrrack!
The ice broke for the second time. Adam saw his younger self fall through the crack. Still holding Edgar’s hand.
The older Adam ran faster. Crouching, holding the camera with his left hand, he reached with his right.
The outline of his hand was faint. But there was no mistaking the feel of Edgar’s hockey glove.
HOLD HIM!
He pulled. Hard. Edgar’s eyes were closed now. He was dead weight.
Dead, wet weight.
Adam heard Lianna’s voice now. Screaming. She was running away.
The younger Adam was fighting for his own life, gasping for air, flailing his arms.
A sacrifice.
“No!” Adam cried out.
He wanted to reach for his younger self. But he couldn’t let go of the camera.
/> I can’t let myself die!
Edgar’s hand was growing softer in his. As if it were dematerializing.
DON’T LOSE HIM.
Adam concentrated. The grip tightened.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his younger self moving closer, ramming his shoulder into Edgar’s side.
Gulping water, turning blue, the younger Adam was trying to shove Edgar out of the hole.
The older Adam jerked backward. Suddenly Edgar was sliding toward him, upward, over the jagged lip of ice.
It was going to work.
Just hang on…both of you…
The older Adam gave a strong yank.
His left foot slid.
Edgar’s hand slipped out. His body dropped away.
Adam pitched forward. He opened his mouth in a silent scream.
The camera fell from his eye.
His hands reached out—to nothing.
In a flash of brilliant white, he saw the camera drop.
Through the ice.
Into the past.
Into the lake.
With Edgar.
How could he have lost it?
Perhaps we can bring it back.
No. Some things even we can’t do.
17
GONE.
It was all gone.
Into the crack, Adam realized. It fell into its own image of the past.
He knew he should scream. Or cry. But he couldn’t.
He didn’t feel a thing.
Adam surveyed the smooth, unbroken ice. The snowless banks.
His arms were no longer wet. His head no longer ached.
Like it never happened.
As if he’d just awakened from another of his dreams.
Maybe that’s all it was. A trick of a disturbed mind. A four-day haze of memories coming unchained. Like Lianna said.
But it was over. And this time he remembered everything.
This time he knew the truth.
Lianna had lied to him. That was why she’d tried to take away the camera. So he couldn’t see. So he couldn’t know what she’d done.
She killed him.
Maybe.
Without the head injury, Edgar might have survived. He might have been conscious longer. He might have been able to hold tighter. To respond to Adam’s help.
What was the difference now?
Edgar had died.
Twice.
Adam realized that through all the deception, Lianna had been right about one other thing.