Michael shook his dark hair, and popcorn fell to the table like giant buttery snowflakes. “It’s a two-to-one ratio. For every two hours we spend in the past or the future, one hour goes by here. It’s good because we can get more done when we’re gone, and it’s not as taxing on Cat. It’s bad because we come back older than we would have been.”
“I see.” I kind of did, anyway. “What else?”
“Those are the basics,” Cat said, dusting off her hands before wiping them on a paper towel. “Are you ready to go?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Suddenly I wished I hadn’t eaten quite so much popcorn. I wasn’t looking forward to tasting it twice.
Cat stood, purple fireball spinning.
Michael held a small duffel bag stuffed with money. The keys to his car were zipped into the pocket of my puffy jacket, and the keys to the science department were in his. The timetable was memorized but still in my right hand. My left hand held Michael’s.
Kaleb, Dune, and Nate stood by, everyone’s face tense. Kaleb’s was so tight it physically hurt to look at him.
Cat flicked her wrist.
Michael stepped into the veil.
I followed.
“Focus on the date and time.” Michael’s voice echoed through the tunnel. The watery look of the veil extended as far as I could see, highlighted by a light sheen of silver. I could almost see through the fluid circular walls, as if I had a window to watch time move past. “Are you focusing?”
Snapping my head forward, I concentrated on the date and time where we wanted to land. “Yes.”
“Good, because I’m useless right now. This is all you. The Emerson Show.”
“Couldn’t you come up with something better than that?”
“Focus, Em,” Michael reminded me.
“Don’t we need to walk, or something?”
“No. We stand still. Time flows around us.”
I’d expected the bridge to be loud, like hurricane winds or a roaring river. Instead, it was achingly quiet. Occasionally, the muffled sound of a voice or music seeped through the undulating walls, but always briefly. I squeezed my eyes shut, and guessed we were getting closer to the end when the sounds became more concentrated.
“We’re here,” Michael said, grasping me gently by the shoulder. “You did it.”
I opened my eyes. The veil shimmered in front of us, and I could see the room we’d just left, now empty and cloaked in darkness.
Chapter 42
Our breath froze in the night air as we hurried through the cold, Michael holding my hand as we walked to the parking lot where his car was parked.
“I was out of town when Liam died. I’m glad I didn’t drive,” he said, holding our joined hands up to his lips and blowing his hot breath onto them as we approached his car. “Makes it easier to get to the Hourglass.”
Easier.
“Where were you?” I asked.
“Florida. Spring break. Pretty sure the timing wasn’t a coincidence.”
Lights from distant neighborhoods twinkled on the horizon. No light shone from the windows of the campus buildings. The college was deserted and creepy with all the students gone. I walked a little closer to Michael.
“No wonder everybody heads to the beach instead of staying in the mountains over spring vacation. Why didn’t we think of bringing a scraper?” He ran his hand across the layer of ice on the windshield before opening the car door for me. I put on my seat belt as he slid in and started the engine, jumping when alternative rock poured from the speakers.
He turned the radio down and scanned the parking lot to see if we had drawn attention to ourselves. It appeared as empty and desolate as it was two minutes ago. And as spooky.