Sorry! :') I'll shut up now, I promise.

57

Somewhere else, in a Kansas that never was-

Something was coming. Scott knew that sound, and he dreaded it. Like a freight train barreling for them at full speed and power; part murderous, clattering roar, part wild, insane howl. A tornado, but… how? The weather hadn't been that bad, just windy and warm.

Nevertheless, the house had begun to shudder, its walls and roof flexing with the sudden sharp drop in air pressure. Light bulbs popped in a shower of sparks as the power went out, choking those shrill storm sirens.

He and John vaulted out of their beds, as a hail of debris slammed the house. Didn't bother with shoes or more clothes, just dove for the hallway. Granddad was already there with a flashlight and radio, shouting something that the boys couldn't hear.

Didn't matter. Scott and the rest had been through drills enough to know what had to be done. John crossed the hall to scoop Alan up, while Scott seized Kayo, and Virgil… big for his age… slung an arm around Gordon. Buddy system, just like they'd practiced.

The house was coming apart all around them. Scott could hear the tortured shriek of nails being pulled out of splintering wood, as Granddad led their way downstairs, Mom and Grandma holding tight to his arms.

The cat streaked past in the darkness, like a bolt of furry lightning. Rusty pressed close to Scott's legs, meanwhile, almost making him trip. Didn't fall, though, and didn't drop Kay, whose skinny arms were twined tightly around his neck. He didn't think she was crying, but with all the wind, banging doorways and side-driven rain, it was hard to be sure.

The storm-cellar entrance was down below, alongside the back porch. Felt like a thousand miles to Scott, whose eyes were half-closed against bullets of dust and debris. He heard the staircase creak, as though its back were breaking in two.

Then, that monster storm was upon them, bashing out windows and tearing the roof away like the lid of a cardboard box. There was head-splitting, earth-shaking noise, a sensation of powerful lift, and then darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Yokosuka, Japan-

He had to proceed very cautiously; moving through a room that was stuck in the act of coming apart. Looked like one of Brains' nanite constructions, when the engineer decided to hit "un-do". Only Jaeger's help made it possible for John to spring (with agonizing slowness) from one chunk of disintegrating floor to the next, reaching for Doctor Shiro.

-Schnell, - he heard. ('Hurry,' because Jaeger was losing his grip, and John could feel time beginning to wake.)

This close, he could see tears in the man's pleading dark eyes. Made him try harder. Push way past what should have been possible, even for a guy with some illegal upgrades.

Could almost seize Shiro at full stretch, but not quite. Brushed fingertips, leaning out over dizzy nothing, on that last bit of crumbling floor tile. Sh*t. Now, what? Didn't have his exopod with him, because it was bulky and certain to trigger alarms. He'd left it behind in the Creighton-Ward undersea yacht. Couldn't summon the thing, either. Not without shifting to real time, losing both doctor and Lee. Sorry. No sale.

Think, genius, he goaded himself. Make it happen.

Looking around (and burning his face in the process) John spotted a sudden handy loop of yellow electrical wire, dangling down from that fractured ceiling. Good enough. He reached up against all that resistance, took hold of the sagging wires and hauled at them, hard.

Very obligingly, the stuff dropped right into his hands in warm, looping coils. Heavier than it looked, and more of it too. Maybe he should've asked questions, but exhaustion and nerves made that sort of hard.

He knew how to lasso, of course. No self-respecting horseman could fail to learn a few rope tricks, out on a ranch. Work of a moment to fashion a good slipknot and noose, then sling it (in drifting slow motion) over the doctor's outstretched right arm. Pulled the lasso tight and began hauling in, but it wasn't just the man's weight he was fighting. It was inertia, slowed time and that mud-like, stubborn d*mn air.

John pulled like a stevedore, like his life depended on bringing in Shiro, and not just the doctor's. Had to be careful, or risk breaking the man's wrist. Drag too hard, and he'd take that hand right off. Meanwhile, bit by bit, the tide of debris was beginning to move, again.

He got the job done eventually, stowing Shiro right beside Rigby, and the wire… Well, inexplicably, John kept the stuff, coiling it back up as a loop across shoulder and chest. Then, with the clock slowed down by a friend giving all that he had, John started for Captain Taylor.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Far away, in time and space-

She was tiny, again. Small enough to be carried and shoved into a hole by her calm and beautiful mother.

"Quiet now, Little One. Not a sound, not a movement," Momma whispered, dragging something heavy over that small, dusty hole. "Papa is with us, and all shall be well."

Those words rang in her mind as well as her ears, keeping Tanusha from making noise. She'd seen her father, as well, holding only a pole for a weapon as he paced back and forth between family and door. Something was coming. They… they'd been escaping, and now they were caught.

'No!' she wanted to scream. 'Momma, please! I can help!' Only, the past would not change its implacable flow, as that door was torn loose from its hinges and hurled aside to clatter and squeal against uneven stone. A blast of cold air swirled within, along with a flood of cyborg assassins.

Tanusha had lived through it all once, as a very small child. The energy-bursts and guttural cries. The final few shrieks and spattering blood, dripping through cracks in the cover and onto her upturned face. Their deaths, like an explosion of darkness, inside of her mind. Tanusha could not cry out or gasp. Couldn't pray, the way Grandma had tried to show her. Only shiver, as the killers turned from the headless bodies of Momma and Papa, to seek her. Keeping still would do no good at all, for they possessed scanners. Beams of red light swept the chamber. First the walls, and then floor.

Though adult in mind, Kay could do nothing; not against the compulsion of silence and stillness put on her by Momma. They would find her, and she would die; caught and torn like a desperate kitten, tossed among savage curs.

'No…' she raged, fighting for control of her huddled small body. "I am… a… Tracy!'

And then...