The person who had created this bomb was sick in the head. I’d never seen a pipe bomb so small and yet packed with so many explosives. Calliope was smart. She knew from the start that her half-brother had always meant to kill her daughter. I could see that when I looked inside. There was no way he could switch off the bomb. There was no remote detonator. It was time or sensor—that was it. Her half-brother wanted to torture her mentally first and then emotionally for the rest of her life.
“Focus,” my father whispered in my ear.
And I wanted to smile.
He was here, awake, and speaking to me—alive. For so long as I didn’t fucking screw up. I glanced at the time, fifteen minutes. How? Where had the time gone? That isn’t enough time! Fuck! Who the fuck puts a bomb on a kid! Fuck! We are going to die.
“Calm down,” my dad said to me.
“It’s not enough time, Dad—”
“It’s more than enough; breathe and stay calm,” he said, and I inhaled, breathing in and exhaling before I looked back down. “Now, do you see the switch plate?”
“Yes.”
“Wyatt?”
“What does the switch plate look like again?”
“Like a smaller light switch,” my father said, slightly annoyed, and I smiled…I had missed that, too.
“Okay, I think I see it.”
“You think?”
“Yes, Uncle, it’s my first throat pipe bomb. Please feel free to double-check with your blessed eyes,” Wyatt said back with a bit of humor in his voice.
“I will remember that tone,” he replied.
“If we live—”
“We are, both of you push the switch when I count down,” he said, and I bit my lip, trying to keep my hands from shaking. “Three…two…one. Now.”
I heard a click, but it didn’t unlock. Instead, the timer began to speed up. “Fuck!”
I looked up at my father, who still had his eyes on the bomb. “Dad—”
“It’s supposed to scare you,” he said, ready to take the tweezers from my hand, but his hands were shaking when she pulled back. “When you are scared, you are distracted. You focus on the time more, and then you want to give up and run. Why do that? Because we’ve almost got it.”
“Almost is not very comforting right now, Uncle,” Wyatt said to him. “What are you going to do?”
“The same thing,” he replied.
I stared at him wide-eyed. We’re down to ten minutes now. “Dad—”
“We were right the first time. It’s the pressure sensor we need to press as you hit the switch,” he said, this time trying to hold the whole bomb, but again, he wasn’t well enough. Over my head, another pair of white arms came and held the bomb. When I looked up, it was Uncle Neal, smiling down at me.
“This pressure good enough?”
My father stared at him.
“Dad?” I said when he didn’t speak, and they just stared at each other.
“Do the same thing. Someone grab Giovanna quickly,” he said, focusing again. “Three…two…one.”
We pressed, the bomb unlocked, and Calliope grabbed Gigi into her arms. However, the bomb clicked back in place, wrapping around Uncle Neal’s hands, and the time sped forward again. I stared in shock, looking at his hands and them back up at Uncle Neal’s face. However, he was smiling.
No!