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from happening. They all understand the gravity of the moment and everyone is committed to seeing it through the finish line.”

“I feel better about letting the phone ring off the hook.”

“Yeah, and we should be fine with the blackout, too—I’d say that actually works in our favor. I was worried they’d send people once they saw our tracking devices moving together, but they can’t unlock the buildings to let people out, so now they’re working with a limited pool of soldiers to deploy our way, less if they need them to contain the mess on the streets. And if they try to call off the blackout earlier than planned, the membership will know something is going on and will add more fuel to the fire. The Council just handcuffed themselves.”

“Okay, let’s get this done. How much longer until we reach Nevada?”

“About another hour.”

Martin nodded and returned his attention to the window, looking down to the world passing below, praying he’d be able to make it the peaceful place it deserved to be.

Chapter 13

Chris shot up from the couch, his head cloudy and spinning, his stomach feeling hollowed out. The sensations were familiar; that they were happening, told Chris all he needed to know. His sense of surrounding had evaporated during the nap—

—a fucking nap?! Right now?!—

—and he squandered around his office until holding his balance on the grandfather clock showing an entire hour had passed.

“Arrrgghhh!” he bellowed, grabbing the clock from the top and hurling it sideways, the clatter of metal echoing in the room as the pendulum, weights, and chains all collided with one another. “This isn’t happening,” he whimpered, dragging himself to his desk and fishing his pistol out of the top drawer, only to find that he already had it tucked into his belt. “What is wrong with me?” he asked the empty room, grabbing the sides of his head.

So much could have happened in the last hour, but his cell phone showed no alerts. He checked the Road Runner network and found it offline, creating a slow drip of paranoia that wouldn’t go away for the rest of the night. He dialed Mario Webster, only to have the call go straight to voicemail. He tried Sonya again with the same result, rage and fear boiling within, the sensation similar to nausea for regular human beings, considering he fed off the two emotions.

Chris looked out the window to see his team of soldiers in their positions, scattered about the property just as he had instructed. If no one was going to answer his calls then he’d need to visit them in person. The closest place was the Wealth of Time store only 100 miles southwest.

He trudged out of the office and stepped outside, barking his next commands. “We need to get on the jet right now!”

The soldiers moved without a word, all of them rotating to different positions to ensure coverage on the grounds, the three soldiers who accompanied Chris on trips quickly loading their weapons into the van, one holding a door open for the Keeper of Time as he made his way to join them.

“Colin, we’re landing the jet back here at the house on our way back, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” said the stony-faced man, waiting for Chris to get in the van.

“I’m done with this ridiculous hour-long drive to the hangar. We may not have much time tonight in case we need to run.”

“Yes, sir.”

They piled into the van and hit the road, the jet an hour away, Wealth of Time only a thirty-minute flight from there.

* * *

Chris wrestled reality as they flew to northern Nevada, even though it stared him square in the face. His stomach growled, mouth turning into cotton. If he ate food and drank water—something he’d never done in front of his soldiers—would that display of weakness affect their ability to work for him? He debated this with much ferocity, perhaps overthinking the matter. Perhaps not. His mind wasn’t right and he could only assume it was because of his body’s demands. All of this only meant one thing, too.

There’s no way Sonya is dead, he thought. His stomach groaned in protest. Why? How? I should have never let her leave. This is life and death, and I let my only insurance policy walk away.

He had no time to dwell on the past. Martin would make his move tonight, guaranteed. Chris wanted to rush to Wealth of Time, not to see Mario and inquire why none of his calls were being answered, but to inject his blood into his longtime confidant and trusted advisor. It might not guarantee anything, but if Chris could stay off the grid for at least twenty-four hours he’d have the chance to recuperate his abilities and truly ready himself for a fight with the Road Runners.

He needed answers on Sonya, the whereabouts of Martin Briar, why the Road Runners were offline, and why the hell no one was answering their phones.

The jet prepared for its descent not much longer after it had taken off. It rumbled as they dropped, and Chris felt what might have been fear for the first time in almost half of a century.

The store had been deliberately located to allow for flights in and out directly next to it, a landing strip stretching a mile into the distance, surrounded by a decorative row of cacti. The landing was smooth and they eased to a complete stop.

“Sir, we have a situation,” Colin’s voice crackled through the speakers.

Chris felt his gut drop, another sign that things were definitely far from normal. He wasn’t ever supposed to be nervous, in full control over his life and fate. There was no time for surprises, but this day continued to unravel before his eyes.

He pushed his way to the cockpit, glancing out the window to a pile of charred wood and ash. His chest tightened at the sight, and for a moment he thought he might be having a heart attack,

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