Only Shadows Ahead
Chapter Twenty-Four
In the end, they remained at the Metro community for over a week. Belmont was a mess, and Tyreece had eventually returned with a small group of helpers, intent on making repairs and removing bodies. They had barely made it back at all; having been surrounded and searched along the way by eight men who had jumped them just outside the substation.
Sent by Blight, Tyreece and the others had only just managed to fight their way free — however the aim was clear. They were searching for Linka. The entrances were still under surveillance and Tyreece had radioed through to warn Kwame. It was recommended that they stay away for now, at least until they could secure things properly.
The news had hit Linka hard. She hated it here. Loathed it. It was as if a persistent grey cloud was following her. Depression had never even entered into her vocabulary but she was simply surviving each day. Ambivalent and uninterested in the conversation going on around her. Ma-Ti seemed to be the only one who understood, doing his best to spend time with her.
The Metro 'suburb' lacked the comforts and warmth of Belmont. It was damp and oppressive. There was no fresh food here; only bland, unappetising staples such as rice, wheat and beans. They weren't anywhere near as organised as Belmont. Run with an almost military precision, Belmont was a stark contrast to this place, where the motto "every man for themselves" took on a special meaning.
The general age of the population seemed a little older too, and definitely not as welcoming. Linka couldn't help notice that things were much more sedate here. No bustling hub — just a languid apathy amongst the residents. Wasting away their days. Privacy was non-existent.
There were no weapons here and Linka quickly realised that Belmont housed the fighters, those who still believed they could restore the balance and were willing to fight for it.
This section of the Metro contained the souls who had simply given up. Resigned to their fate.
Gi only seemed to be around when it was convenient for her — when she needed her fix of cloying, obsessive physical contact. Otherwise, like at Belmont, she was missing in action for large chunks of the day.
Kwame was busily making plans. Manning the radio and checking on things back home. He had finally made contact with Trissa, which had improved his mood somewhat. He was still tense, however. Disconnected from things.
She rarely saw Wheeler at all, except at meal times and occasionally when they crossed paths. This usually involved him turning and heading in the opposite direction as if his life depended on it.
Gi had mentioned earlier that the station was located beneath a terminus building which was accessible from below. Ma-Ti and Bleak went searching for it, dragging Linka along with them in an effort to cheer her up. All three were desperate to escape the monotony and boredom of life underground.
They followed the instructions of an elderly bearded man in a singlet and scuffed shorts, holding a beer can filled with water. He pointed them in the right direction, giving them a toothless grin as they departed. They navigated the tunnels and climbed through an access point, leading to a maintenance shaft that brought them into the basement of the building.
Heading upstairs, they found themselves in what was once a majestic gothic-style structure. The stained-glass windows had long-since blown out. Concrete pillars and arches were marked with holes and craters, and the tiled floors were littered with dust and debris.
So they spent their days exploring — Bleak repeatedly bouncing an old tennis ball he'd found against the crumbling walls. Ma-Ti poked around the offices and upper levels while Linka lay curled up and dozing under the dull glow of the sun peeking through the roof. All three individuals hanging out in a relatively companionable manner until they were finally given the all-clear to return.
"You are really going to drag that thing back, Gi?" Kwame asked, eyeing the object with derision. "It is the size of my backpack."
"There are now thirty people crammed into my home and I don't trust any of them." Gi clutched her treasured folder to her chest, flicking her hair with a determined look set upon her face. "It's coming with me."
"Fair enough," Kwame muttered.
"Are you sure we're safe to go back?" Ma-Ti asked.
"We don't have a choice," Kwame remarked. "My ring is in my room and we're going to need it. Plus we'll need supplies before we set out again."
"Is there a plan?" Gi asked. She swiped a fly away from the corner of her mouth, stepping carefully around the store-fronts. They were about a block away from Belmont. "For the love of God, tell me you have a plan?"
"Storm the place when they're least expecting it — at night. Find Cap and get him away. Return him to the Earth. I have a feeling he's going to need time to recover. Then we'll head to Nevada, where I'm assuming the time-travel equipment is. Combine our powers and send Linka home."
"He would no longer be grounded since my power has returned," Linka asked, frowning. "Should he not be able to return to the Earth now himself?"
"From what the witnesses have said, Blight had found a way to physically restrain him. Tether him. Beyond that, I am as in the dark as you are, Linka."
"Oh," she said, lowering her head. "Okay."
"I have a feeling we are on a strict time limit, guys," Ma-Ti said, pointing towards the sky. The group stopped, gazing in the direction Ma-Ti was indicating.
"What is that?" Bleak asked. He shielded his eyes, squinting as he stared at the anomaly that was just visible through the break in the skyline.
A jagged streak had appeared above them, visible now between the sky-scrapers in front. It shimmered prettily; silver and glistening. Stretching across the skyline, it looked jarringly out of place.
Kwame stared at the phenomenon, glancing at Ma-Ti in wonder. "Timeline becoming unstable?"
"I am guessing so," Ma-Ti replied worriedly.
They continued on, their eyes switching between the sky and their surroundings. Alert and watchful as they approached the substation.
Now seated in the common room, Linka had been overjoyed to find a familiar face inside. She threw her arms around Grace's neck and hugged her tightly, talking loudly in an effort to be heard over the chatter.
But now wasn't the time for reunions. They quickly separated, taking a seat beside one another since Kwame had called an emergency meeting with the skeleton crew who had so far returned.
The situation was laid out with complete transparency to the pale, shocked faces within. That four people had been brought here via Blight's machine. Two were now dead and two had survived.
Thirty pairs of eyes focused on Linka and Bleak when Kwame gestured towards them, and Linka blushed brightly, feeling the weight of the stares. Linka couldn't help but notice Grace regarding her with shock as more details slipped out.
Kwame laid out Doctor Blight's plan to travel back to Linka's time, presumably with other members of her group. That their current timeline was already beginning to collapse and that it was imperative that Blight fail. The travellers needed to return home to ensure their own survival.
Kwame stressed that if Blight succeeded, she would effectively doom both their own timeline as well as Linka's.
"What about the two bodies?" Tyreece asked. "Will they need to go through too?"
Linka blinked. She hadn't even considered that Past Blight and Kroi would also need to return.
"I don't know," Kwame said. "But I want to make sure we cover all bases. So it's definitely a good idea."
"Where are they?"
"Scavenger camp about forty miles south of where we picked Linka up," Kwame replied.
Three men and a woman volunteered for the job. Kwame continued talking in commanding tones, discussing their options as Linka narrowed her eyes, observing the former Earth Planeteer.
The man with the plan.
In control and calling the shots — almost detached from the situation, like a sergeant calling his troops into battle.
She sighed heavily, pushing her hair off her face and glancing around, searching. She spotted Wheeler after a minute of so, seated towards the back and fidgeting beside Ma-Ti who was talking quietly to him. His eyes settled on hers for a moment and she gave him another small smile, hoping for something. Anything. As per usual he lowered his gaze, before turning his attention back towards Ma-Ti and nodding.
Slumping in her chair, Linka quickly faced the front again — dejected and miserable. From that point onwards, the rest of Kwame's instructions became white noise. She watched everyone begin to file out, evidently to rest and replenish themselves.
Linka remained where she was, bidding goodbye to Grace who was returning to her room. Gi had also wandered away with one of the soccer players Linka had met before the raid.
The last of the stragglers departed, leaving her alone with Kwame as he sunk onto a couch tiredly. He glanced up when he noticed Linka still sitting there, regarding him quietly.
She took a deep breath. "What happened between Wheeler and I?"
"Nothing happened —"
"Do not lie to me," she said softly, and his brown eyes widened. "He seems so upset with me."
"He is still grieving you, Linka —"
"You all grieved me, Kwame. The rest of you are not treating me like I have the plague."
"He just needs time, Linka."
"Something is very wrong." She shook her head, running her fingers through her long hair. "I know him. I cannot help but feel that I am still missing a piece of the puzzle."
He stood, approaching slowly and crouching down in front of her. He reached out and grasped her hands. "I am sorry you feel that way."
She stared at him solemnly, her green eyes wide and pleading. "Promise me there is nothing more. No more secrets. That you have told me everything I need to know." Her voice was a mere husk. She felt drained. Numb.
Kwame nodded, squeezing her hands. "All right."
"You of all people always knew how I felt about him," she whispered, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve as she stood and straightened, unable to meet his eyes now. "I miss him."
"Linka, we are not the same people. Everyone here has been affected —"
"But none more than me," she cried, hugging herself. "You have all moved on! You were all able to live! You and Ma-Ti are married, Wheeler is married with a family. Gi is… is…sleeping with half of Belmont, apparently! I have nothing but a cold, dark tomb."
Kwame recoiled at her choice of words, but she pressed on regardless.
"Promise me," she whispered. "Promise me that there is nothing more. I can't… I need to know. I cannot take this anymore."
"I promise," he said. His brown eyes regarded her sadly.
With that, she turned and hurried away, leaving Kwame alone with his thoughts.
"What the hell is this?" Grace asked as Linka entered the room tiredly, flopping down on the bottom bunk. "Found it on my bed."
"What?" Linka asked. The metal springs above lurched and Grace's head appeared, upside down. Grace dangled the heavy binder briefly within her line of sight. "Oh. It is Gi's photo album."
"Like a brick," Grace muttered, impressed with the weight and dimensions. "So. We're heading off tomorrow, so I really need to recap today's lecture. How old are you? Really? Now?"
Linka smiled. "Twenty-three."
"So you haven't travelled here from Russia?"
"Nyet."
"You've travelled through… time? A time machine?"
"Da."
"But you existed here too? For a while?" The bed above sagged and squeaked. "There was another you runnin' around?"
"Da."
Linka heard her sigh. "Until Blight killed the older you?"
"Da."
"Oh, man," she muttered. "I'm so damn confused."
Linka smiled, spending the next ten minutes filling in the gaps that were missing, bringing her up to speed with everything she knew: everything related to her past and future self.
"Ah. Okay," she said, attempting to make light of the confusing situation. "All righty, then."
"I will admit... the longer I am here, the more questions I have," Linka lamented. She shrugged helplessly. "I really have no idea what is going on. I am just… how do they say? Going with the flow."
Grace chuckled. "Fair enough."
"It is like a bad dream," Linka whispered. "I keep expecting to wake up in Doctor Blight's compound. They are all so different, now. So different to how they were."
"Really?"
"Da."
"Hmm… I mean, I knew Kwame and Gi were Planeteers." The bed lurched again as Grace resettled herself. "Not many knew, but Gi let slip one night after a few too many vodka's."
"I have heard she tends to do that," Linka remarked drily. "This is all very strange to me."
"Did I spot that Wheeler dude at the back somewhere? He came back?"
"Da," she said. "Wheeler is here."
I am not sure why he bothered.
"Wow," she remarked. "Still a bit of a babe."
A smile curled at the corner of Linka's lips, but she remained silent. Pensive.
"I used to have a crush on him when I was younger," Grace admitted. She dropped her hand down the side and passed Linka another squished Hersey's bar. Linka took it gratefully, unwrapping it and placing a square in her mouth. "Like a fine wine. Gotten better with age."
"He is married now," she said softly. "Has children."
"Really?" Grace asked. "You guys always seemed really close from what I saw in the media. Before you disbanded anyway. Never got together?"
"Nyet," Linka admitted. "Apparently not, it would seem."
"Weren't interested at all?"
"I was stubborn," she replied, deciding to be honest. "I had feelings for him. I guess we never got our chance."
"Oh." Grace dropped her head down over the edge again and regarded Linka apologetically. "Sorry. Tell me if I'm talking too much. Or if it's none of my business."
"It is alright." Linka gave a small smile, tugging on a strand of Grace's dangling hair. "He is barely talking to me now, anyway."
"Oh." Grace changed the subject, noting Linka's despondent mood. "Who's the guy you're with? The bald one with the seventies mo'?"
"Argos Bleak."
"Ah," she said. "Friend?"
"Acquaintance," Linka replied, deciding not to go into the specifics of her complicated relationship with Bleak. "How are things here?"
Grace sighed. "Three of the floodlights are stuffed. Managed to get the fourth one up and running, though. Some of the crops were salvaged. Trissa has been busy replanting them."
"How did you survive the raid?"
"Shot a few arrows," Grace remarked. "May have taken a swan-dive into a wheat barrel to hide."
"I am glad you are all right," Linka breathed, lulled by Grace's friendly banter.
Pages turned above her. "Gi keeps some weird shit in here."
"Like what?"
"All sorts…" Grace said. "Girl needs a filing cabinet."
"She showed me some photographs last night." Linka yawned, curling up on her side and closing her eyes, settling into sleep. Tired and weary now. "What have you found?"
"Um… dolphin photos. Birth certificate. Blue Fin Tuna Company mission statement," she said, an incredulous note to her voice. A slight pause, then the pages continued rustling. "Warranties. Looks like architectural plans. Some murder in England. Uh… weird doodles and —"
Linka's eyes flew open and she sat up quickly, coming close to thumping her head on the bed springs above her. "What did you say?"
"Oh, she's been sketching —"
"Nyet," she exclaimed, jumping out of her bunk and hauling herself up the ladder. She sunk down beside Grace, reaching for the album. "You mentioned a murder?"
"Oh," Grace muttered, flicking back to a newspaper clipping. "Yeah. Here."
Linka's heart pounded as she scanned the article. No picture, just a small, narrow column with the headline. Maybe one hundred words in total. Tattered and torn, repaired carefully with scotch tape.
She stared at the slip of paper, her hands trembling as she skimmed through the particulars.
Essex.
Thirty-one year old woman dead.
Suspicious circumstances.
Four witnesses.
Suspect on the run.
Investigations are continuing.
Linka clutched the paper tightly. There were no other particulars and Linka blew a frustrated breath outwards.
"I think this was me," she murmured, passing the clipping to Grace. Grace frowned, reading the article slowly as Linka flicked through the folder, searching for something more — anything that would help explain and clarify things.
But there was nothing. She dropped the folder back into Grace's lap and slumped forward, resting her forehead in her palms. She felt Grace's hand rest between her shoulder blades, soothing and rubbing in circular motions.
"Crumbs."
"Huh?"
Linka sighed heavily, flopping back against the wall in defeat. "Just a constant trail of breadcrumbs."
"I know." More rustling. "Hey, future you changed your hair."
"Da. It was dyed before I went away."
"Looks nice."
Linka groaned. "It looked like a bee hive. I was a mess."
"No, you don't," she argued. "You look stunning. Gorgeous."
Linka straightened, peering at the image that Grace was passing to her. Her mouth hung open.
It wasn't the same photograph from last night. Linka stared hard at it, enthralled with what she was seeing. Definitely a restaurant. Red and white checkered-tablecloth and empty dishes lining the table, along with countless wine glasses and beer bottles.
She leaned forward, recognising the attractive brunette in the photo. Linka traced her finger over her own face smiling back at her, noting the chestnut, glossy hair falling to her shoulders. Rosy cheeks and bright, green eyes — a distinct contrast to her last day with the group. Wide grin beneath red, pouty lips.
Gi was standing behind her; arms wrapped loosely around Linka's shoulders. She stared at her future-self's hands, folded upwards and resting gently over Gi's.
Part of another figure was visible just out of the frame and judging by the arm bands, Linka knew it was Ma-Ti. She suddenly recalled the conversation she'd had with Gi after finding out she had died.
We only saw you once after the split — before you died. Maybe eighteen months after you were relocated. We'd all had dinner together. Little restaurant in Sicily.
They'd taken the risk.
Linka gripped the photo, studying her future self carefully. She looked so happy and carefree. Tanned, toned and in all honesty, glowing. Not at all what she had envisioned eighteen months of supposed solitary loneliness would look like.
Then her eyes passed over it.
The small, insignificant little detail that drew her attention back in a snap, almost causing whiplash. The color drained out of Linka's face as she sat numbly; at a loss to process what she was seeing. Scarcely believing her own eyes.
"Oh my God," she gasped. The diamond ring and wedding band glinted, illuminated by the camera flash. "It cannot be?"
"Jesus," Grace remarked, grabbing the photo out of Linka's hands as she brought it closer. She'd seen it too. She tapped her finger on the image, her eyes wide and looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I didn't know you were married?"
"I wasn't," she said, shaking her head in wonder. "They did not… I wasn't."
"Well, that's definitely a nice lookin' rock on your finger," Grace replied quietly, glancing at Linka nervously.
No more secrets.
Her face contorted with grief. Because he'd lied. They'd lied. They'd all lied to her. They knew. They all had to have known and they'd kept it from her. Willingly. Purposefully.
She tossed the photo back into the folder. Pressing her hands against her face, she crumpled forward.
"All right. Let's just…" Grace sat back, placing her palm on Linka's back again. "Maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions."
"What other conclusion can be drawn from this?" Linka moaned, gesturing towards the picture and wiping tears away angrily. "I knew there was more…"
"Maybe they had a good reason not to tell —"
"No more secrets," she said angrily. "He promised me..."
Cold fury coursed through her veins as her eyes focused again on the engagement ring and wedding band. A minor detail to some but meaning all the world to Linka.
Because it changed everything. She was furious. Utterly furious, since they'd led her to believe she was alone and vulnerable for those six years.
Bozhe moy. I was married. I had a husband.
This was unforgivable. She slammed the folder shut and tucked it under her arm. Sliding herself off Grace's bunk, Linka stalked off towards the common room.
Ma-Ti jumped, startled as an object was dumped open into Kwame's lap beside him. Kwame seemed to have the same reaction, twisting and staring up at Linka's irate expression. Her eyes were puffy and her face was swollen with tears. Ma-Ti suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He bit his lip, watching Linka carefully.
"Did you not think I would find out?" she said sharply, addressing Kwame and gesturing towards the folder as she walked around to confront him head-on. "Did you not think I had a right to know?"
"Wait, just calm down, Linka —"
"Do not tell me to calm down, Kwame!" she exploded. "You looked me in the eye today and you told me there were no more secrets!"
Kwame looked down at the picture laying open within his lap, frowning. Not understanding. "I don't know what you're referr —"
"Look closer," she snapped, running her index finger over the ridge of her wedding finger. "Any ideas, yet?"
Dawning realisation spread over Kwame's face and Ma-Ti breathed a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his mouth. The action wasn't lost on Linka.
She turned, addressing Ma-Ti now. "You knew too, I suppose?"
"Linka, it was out of our hands, we —"
"Who is he?"
A muscle in Kwame's jaw twitched. "It's complicated —"
"STOP IT!" she shrieked, covering her ears. The tears were flowing now. She felt so incredibly betrayed, not just by Kwame but by all of them. "JUST STOP IT!"
Ma-Ti jumped to his feet, attempting to gently grip her arms but she pushed him away, swaying as she cried openly.
"Linka, maybe we need to —"
"It is not complicated," she sobbed. "You are all making it complicated. You have been from the —"
"Please understand —"
Their irate voices pressed on. Ma-Ti glanced over Linka's shoulder and spotted Wheeler in the doorway, his face grave as he watched on, probably having heard the commotion. His eyes followed Linka as she stepped back, trembling and unable to look anyone in the eye.
Kwame appeared to be in damage control mode. "I think we need to _"
"Ever since I arrived here Kwame, you have withheld the truth from me! You have chosen what to tell me and dictated when to tell me!"
"I had no choice, Linka," he bit back. "This is not a black and white —"
"Has the new job gone to your head, Nachal'nik?" she shouted, her temper flaring again. "You needed something else to control? An entire community was not enough?"
"That is not fair, Linka," he said sharply. Kwame jumped to his feet, and Ma-Ti watched on in alarm as he approached Linka, fists balled by his sides. "You —"
"No, it is not fair!" she shrieked. "You have all moved on! You got to live. I guess you could not pass up the opportunity to do a little more damage—"
"Oh, come on Linka, are you serious?"
"How did I die, Kwame? I suppose you are keeping that from me too?" she spat. "Poor little precious Linka, let us not upset the delicate butterfly."
"I don't know how you died, Lin —"
"You cannot open your mouth without lying to me! You have involved everyone else in this — they are following your lead! What happened to you, Kwame? You used to be my friend?" she moaned, wrapping her arms around herself. "Tell me! Was I married?"
"It is not my place to —"
"I have a right to know!" she cried. "Was I married?"
"I cannot —"
"JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!" she shouted. "WAS I MARRIED?"
"YES!" Kwame bellowed back. "YOU WERE MARRIED, LINKA!"
She took a step back, shivering. "Who is he?"
Kwame shook his head, despondent but still maintaining eye contact with her. Standing his ground.
"Poshel na khuy," she whispered. Head down, she turned and strode quickly away, shoulder-barging Wheeler aside as he stood blocking the doorway. "I am done."
Ma-Ti dropped back into his seat. Kwame remained where he was, his mouth a hard line. Her footsteps echoed along the corridor and Ma-Ti glanced again towards Wheeler, seeking something. Support. Affirmation. Approval.
But Wheeler was already gone.