Sleep Writer

SLEEP WRITER

A S C I - FI ADVENTURE

Sleep Writer by Keith Robinson

Printed in the United States of America First Edition: December 2015 ISBN-13 978-1519673060

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

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SLEEP WRITER

A S C I - FI ADVENTURE

KEITH ROBINSON

Chapter 1

Liam Mackenzie scurried up the oak tree and settled on his favorite branch. He was only twenty feet above his mom’s flower bed at the side of the driveway but high enough to be hidden from the world behind a canopy of newly sprouted leaves. High enough to do some spying. From this vantage point, he could look down into the living room window where his mom was seated on the sofa reading a magazine and his dad was jabbing at the TV’s remote control. But Liam's focus was on the house next door, beyond the hedge. The two-story building had stood empty a few months now. Today the new neighbors were moving in. It was late morning on a crisp, cool Saturday in April. A huge mover’s truck rolled into the horseshoe driveway, halting with the back end aimed at the front door of the old house. The rattling engine cut off, the door creaked open, and a man jumped down. He stretched and went to greet a shiny silver car that was pulling up behind. Liam guessed the truck driver was the dad of the family. The mom stepped out of the driver’s side of the car, and they came together for a hug before turning to gaze at their new home. One of the car’s rear doors opened and a short boy climbed out. He looked about five or six, yawning wide as he ambled over to his mom. She ruffled his hair. “Awake at last, sweetie?” she said, her voice faint but clear from where Liam straddled his branch.

Nobody else got out of the car. Liam sighed. There were only six houses on this lonely, barely paved lane, and not one kid his age. He lived in the middle of nowhere, just within the city limits of Brockridge, with its historic railroad station, a sprinkling of stores, and nothing of interest for anyone but Civil War buffs and old people. East of the center, the main road meandered for miles through woods as though unsure where to go. One offshoot lane ended at a lake. Liam’s parents loved it here, but being the only kid for miles around wasn’t exactly fun. The new neighbor woman glanced toward the car. “Hey, wake up, sleepyhead! Come look.” Liam bolted upright, seeing slow movement through the windshield. Someone else was back there. Surely it was someone his age . . . A girl slid out. She had long black hair and wore dark glasses, a tight black T-shirt, a short black skirt, black leggings, and flat black shoes. Liam slumped in disappointment. Hanging out with a girl would be okay if she were his age, but this one was way older, probably sixteen or so. She wouldn’t want anything to do with him, and judging by how fed up she looked, Liam wasn’t sure he wanted anything to do with her either. She looked sulky even behind her shades. Her mom stepped past the small boy and hurried to take her hand. “Come on, Madison. Look at this place! How can you not be excited?” “She’s a teenager,” her dad commented. “It’s okay, I guess,” Madison said. Liam could barely hear her, and he strained to listen as she turned to face the road. “So how far’s the cemetery from here?”

“Here we go again,” the man grumbled and wandered off to inspect the house’s siding. “I need to know, Mom,” the girl said obstinately. “Madison, please stop asking about the cemetery.” “Yes, but . . .” Liam listened intently, his curiosity piqued, as the mother lowered her voice and spoke earnestly to her daughter. Madison kept opening her mouth to reply but couldn’t seem to get a word in. Finally she shook her head. “Fine. Whatever.” The boy chose that moment to pipe up, “I’m hungry.” “Me too,” his mom said. “Let’s go inside.” She called to her husband and held out her hand. “Keys, m’ dear?” With keys jangling, she hurried up the short flight of steps to the porch. Liam knew she’d find that loose floorboard in a moment. The previous owner, a friendly old woman who’d died six months ago, had spent years stepping over it. Sure enough, as the new owner opened the front door and turned to call her family inside, her foot found the loose board and she stumbled. “Oh!” “You all right?” her husband said, starting up the steps. Moments later the parents and boy were inside the house, leaving a dejected teenage girl alone in the driveway. She chewed her gum for a moment, then slowly removed her shades, sighed, and trudged inside. It was quiet after that apart from a few exclamations from the mom, a grunt or two from the dad, and some whining from the boy. Madison made no sound whatsoever although she appeared briefly in an upstairs window. Not too long after, the dad sauntered out of the

house and disappeared behind the back of the truck. Liam heard the sound of a squeaky shutter rolling up and guessed the unloading was about to start. He watched for a while but soon grew bored at the endless parade of cardboard boxes. He was curious to see how one man and his wife would handle heavy sofas and cabinets, but all that stuff seemed to be at the front end of the truck. He slid down from the tree and headed indoors. “New neighbors are here,” he said as he wandered into the living room. “We saw,” his dad said, changing the TV channel. “I suggested we go out and greet them,” Liam’s mom said, arching an eyebrow over her magazine, “but your dad was worried he would feel obliged to help unload the truck.” “My back hurts,” he said, winking at Liam. “Well, I think we’re being rude.” She threw her magazine aside. “Come on, old man, on your feet. You too, Liam.” Groaning, Liam’s dad made a play of hobbling from the room. Once outside, he straightened up, strode to the five-foot hedge that separated the properties, and waved heartily to his new neighbor. “Hey! When did you arrive? Need some help there?”

* * *

The Parkers seemed nice enough and were happy to stand and chat. There was no sign of Madison or the small boy. Liam decided they were probably inside griping about their rooms or whining about being hungry. Dr. Parker, a radiologist, had managed to secure a job

in the nearest city—for a change of pace, they'd said. Liam vaguely remembered the real estate agent showing Dr. and Mrs. Parker around the old house months ago, along with a bunch of other people over the weeks. Now the FOR SALE sign read SOLD and leaned to one side in the overgrown grass. When Mrs. Parker mentioned about moving from a city to a small country town, Liam’s mom asked what she did for a living. Mrs. Parker shrugged it off as unimportant. “Oh, I’m an artist and illustrator,” she said. “A bit of secondary income, nothing special.” But her husband wouldn’t have it. He heaped praise on her work. “Book jackets, posters, magazines,” he said. “She’s really good. I know I’m biased, but still . . .” “I work from home,” she said, blushing. “Most of my contacts are in New York, but it doesn’t really matter where we live as long as I have phone and internet.” “Ah, well, I have great internet,” Liam’s dad said. “I’m a website designer. I work from home too, so I need great internet. One day my son here will take over the business.” He patted Liam’s shoulder. “He's pretty good at all that stuff already.” “Interesting!” Dr. Parker said. He turned to Liam’s mom. “And what about you?” “Kindergarten teacher,” she said. “Oh! I wonder if Cody’s going to your school?” But he wasn’t. Liam’s mom worked at a school in another county. “Otherwise I’d have been happy to take him in with me each morning,” she told Mrs. Parker. “But since all three will be at Brockridge, maybe they can ride in together . . .” And so it went. Liam grew bored listening to the

adults chatting amiably behind the truck. He glanced inside and saw stacks of cardboard boxes and plastic crates. Toward the front, furniture lurked in the darkness. The family seemed pretty well organized. Dr. Parker had left his car behind and borrowed his brother’s truck for a week. He planned to return it next Saturday, something like an eight-hour round trip. Mrs. Parker called for Madison and Cody, and as the conversation continued, two figures eventually emerged from the house. “Here they are,” Mrs. Parker said. “This is Madison. She’s fifteen.” Fifteen, Liam thought. Still way too old. “And this is little Cody. Tell them how old you are, Cody.” “Five,” the boy said. He brightened, his shyness evaporating. “I’ll be six soon. Look, my tooth falled out!” Once Cody started talking, he didn’t stop. As the adults laughed and fawned over him, Liam glanced at Madison and noticed her staring back at him. He hurriedly looked away. The next time he glanced her way, she was staring off into the distance, and he was able to study her for a second or two. Her round face was clear, not a spot or pimple anywhere. She was very slim, almost skinny, and roughly six inches taller than Liam. “Madison, this is Liam,” Mrs. Parker said finally. “Perhaps he can show you around the area.” She looked questioningly at Liam. “Is the lake close?” “Just down the lane,” Liam said. “I have a boat.” Madison opened her mouth to ask something, but the question died on her lips when she saw her mom’s warning look. “Are there stores nearby?” she tried instead.

“They’re pretty lame,” Liam told her. “How about movie theaters?” “Lame. All lame.” Madison sighed heavily, and Liam’s mom laughed. “It’s not so bad. It’s wonderful here, really . . . although I guess there’s not a whole lot for kids to do. But there’s a mall forty-five minutes from here by car.” “Well,” Dr. Parker said, “I guess we should get unloaded and unpacked before the sun goes down.” “We’ll be glad to help,” Liam’s dad said, rubbing his hands. “Here, Liam, take this box, will you?” Liam groaned.

Chapter 2

Later that afternoon, Liam stepped through the kitchen to the deck out back, mobile phone in hand. His dad looked up from his laptop with a suspicious look. “A ‘friends and family’ call?” “Yes, Dad. I’m calling Ant.” “Because we’re low on minutes, okay?” “I know, I know.” He escaped just as his friend answered. Ant lived on the other side of town. “Hey, buddy,” he said, sounding muffled. “What’s up?” “New neighbors,” Liam told him. He explained how he’d first overheard them from his tree, and how they’d met shortly afterward. “Madison’s a piece of work, a real barrel of laughs.” “Is she hot?” Liam paused, pursing his lips. “Yeah, she's hot. If you took away the dark glasses and wiped the scowl off her face, she’d be something. She’s way out of your league, though, so don’t even think about it.” “But she’d fall for you, is that it?” came Ant’s sneering retort. “You in your cheap shack on the cheap side of the lake?” Grinning, Liam got up and started pacing around the deck. “I may not live in a mansion and have tons of money like you, but I have my good looks and charm, something even your mom and dad can’t buy you.” “You penniless loser,” Ant said.

“You rich, obnoxious moron.” After Ant got through laughing, Liam halted by the steps and told him about the question Madison had asked. “She asked where what was?” Ant exclaimed. “The cemetery.” “The cemetery?” Frowning, Liam considered and started pacing again. “Or a cemetery. I can’t remember if she was specific about which one. She seems pretty morbid—” He froze, suddenly aware he was being watched. “Buddy?” his friend asked, his voice suddenly seeming far away. “Are you still there?” “Uh, gotta go,” Liam said in a strangled voice. He hung up and stood there with his phone gripped in his trembling hand. Finally, he turned around. “Hi.” Madison stood on the deck by the kitchen door, leaning against the wall with her arms folded, standing there behind him as if she’d been there all along. He must have walked right by her on his way out. Instead of announcing herself, she’d waited in silence, listening while he had an entire conversation with Ant. About her. “Hi,” she said coolly. She was still chewing gum, maybe the same piece for all Liam knew. Her gaze was hidden behind those unrelenting dark glasses. With her jaw moving, her eyes masked, and her brow hidden behind black hair, it was impossible to tell what kind of mood she was in right now. “So . . .” Liam said. “So.” She’s like a parrot, he thought, suddenly annoyed. How dare she eavesdrop? How dare she be so creepy- weird, and then stand there repeating everything he said?

“So how’s it going?” “I came to ask you something.” “Yeah?” She stared at him a while longer, chewing her gum, leaning against the doorpost. Then she straightened up, moved closer, and peered down her nose at him. He squinted back, trying to penetrate her shades. “Is there a cemetery near here?” “Uh . . . yeah. One or two. Why?” Madison started to blow a bubble. The pink gum swelled quickly, and Liam couldn’t help staring at it. When it collapsed, she let it hang on her chin for a moment, then pulled it back inside her mouth and resumed chewing. “I like cemeteries,” she said at last. “So can you show me?” Liam shrugged. “I guess. Which one?” “The nearest.” “When do you want to go?” “Now.” Her shades reflected Liam’s own face back at him— twice. “Can you take those off?” he said. “It’s like talking to a mirror.” She chewed some more, then tilted her head forward and took the dark glasses off. When she lifted her head and pushed her hair back out of the way, he saw pretty green eyes lined rather heavily, but precisely, with black eyeliner that extended into neat curly points at the corners of her eyes. He couldn’t help staring. “Take a picture,” she murmured with a frown. “Sorry. It’s just . . .” He gestured vaguely. “That’s cool.” Her brow smoothed out a little, and she gave a slight

nod. “So what are we waiting for? Is it far?” “The cemetery? It’s about a mile from here. Left out of the drive, turn right at the end of the lane, and it’s on the right off the main road. Or we could take a shortcut through the woods. There’s a path that—” “Just show me, okay?” “Right. Uh, wait here a second.” Liam dashed inside. His parents were lounging in the living room. He took a breath and ambled into view. “The neighbor wants to see around the place,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve got nothing else to do, so . . .” His dad stood, squinting to see out onto the deck. “Oh, is Madison outside?” He winked and lowered his voice. “Play it cool, son. Don’t be swayed by her beauty. Just—” “Dad! It’s not like that. I don’t even like her much. I’m just trying to be polite, you know? She’s not my type.” Both his parents laughed. “Okay, son,” his dad said. “Where are you going, anyway? Taking her down to the lake? Maybe you should wait until this evening when there’s a nice sunset. That’d be more romantic, if you get my drift.” “Oh, yes, that would be lovely,” his mom said, clasping her hands together and fluttering her eyelids. Liam turned away. “Bye.” He ignored the titters and guffaws and headed back outside. Madison pushed herself off the doorpost and trailed after him down the steps and onto the lawn. “Do you have to tell your parents every time you go out?” He scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t have to. I was just checking they didn’t need me for anything.” She smiled for the first time, and it lit up her face.

“I’m kidding. You should tell your parents if you’re going out. You’re only eleven, right?” “Twelve,” Liam protested a little too loudly. They headed out into the lane and turned left. Liam jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Lake’s that way. I have a boat there.” “You have a boat?” He felt a swell of pride at her interest. She actually sounded impressed. “It was my granddad’s. That’s his house we live in now. He owned it and a small piece of land on the edge of the lake. He took me out in his boat at least twice a month when we came to visit.” He paused, an image of his smiling old grandfather coming easily to mind. “Not so much toward the end, though. He got ill and died a few years ago.” “I’m sorry.” Liam nodded. “Anyway, it’s just a small boat, nothing major, but it’s pretty neat.” “I’d like to go out in it sometime,” she said. He glanced sideways at her. “Really?” “Why are you so surprised? Do I look like someone who doesn’t like boats?” “No, I just thought you’d rather hang out with your friends. And your boyfriend,” he added. A faint smile touched her lips. “We just moved into the area. I didn’t bring any friends with me. Honestly, I didn’t have many to bring in the first place. Jenny’s my best friend, and we’re going to keep in touch, but I won’t miss my old school. What’s Brockridge High like?” “It’s okay. Brockridge Middle is, anyway. I don’t know about High.” “Right. Because you’re only twelve.”

She grinned, and since there was no sign of any scorn, he decided he was okay with her teasing him. She really seemed quite nice, not half as grouchy and aloof as she’d first appeared. He wanted to press her about her boyfriend. Did she have one? Not that it mattered; she obviously wasn’t interested in someone Liam’s age. Still, he would hate for some football jock to show up from time to time, charming her and scoffing at the wimpy neighbor kid in front of her. It would be better if she were unattached. But he didn’t want to ask her outright and appear too interested. “This way,” he said, veering to the right-hand side of the lane and pointing out a narrow footpath that cut through the woods. He took that path and forged ahead, knowing it intersected another a bit farther on and that he needed to take a left there. “Why are you so interested in cemeteries, anyway?” “Not all of them,” she said, lagging behind. “Just one in particular.” Liam slowed a little so she could catch up. “The one we’re going to?” “I have no idea. I’ll find out when we get there.” Her answer mystified Liam so much that he said nothing for a full minute. He found the fork and turned left. Bright light filtered through the trees ahead. “Why just one cemetery in particular?” he said at last. “What are you looking for?” When Madison didn’t reply, he glanced back over his shoulder. Her head was down as she navigated the meandering, bumpy path. In her hands she held a crumpled scrap of paper.

“What’s that?” Liam asked, slowing to look. She smoothly folded it and stuffed it into a tiny pocket in her miniskirt. “Just some notes,” she said, smiling at him. He appreciated the fact that she hadn’t put her dark glasses back on since he’d asked her to remove them. They hung from the neck of her T-shirt. Either she didn’t really care about wearing them or she was honoring his request. Still, even though he could gaze into her clear green eyes, she was just as unfathomable as before, her smile pleasant but enigmatic. “Well, I’m not interested anyway,” Liam said, moving on again. “Probably a love letter from your boyfriend, right?” He mentally patted himself on the back for bringing up the topic so nonchalantly. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said, and he quietly whooped. “Are you available?” He stopped dead and swung around. “What?” She slowed to a halt in front of him and, mere inches from his face, gazed at him with wide eyes. “I asked if you were available. To be my boyfriend.” “Me? I mean . . . What? Are you—when you say—” She laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Relax. I’m kidding. Sorry. I just thought it was funny how you so innocently asked me about my boyfriend for the millionth time.” “I did not!” He shrugged and scratched at his nose. “Well, I asked, but only once, maybe twice. I was just interested, that’s all.” “I know, I know.” She gave him a gentle shove, indicating that he lead the way. “I’m just messing with you. Is the cemetery ahead?”

“Yes!” he said with a little too much relief in his voice. “Yeah, that’s it.” It was a sorry-looking place, overgrown and forlorn, the headstones lopsided. Black iron railings surrounded it, the points on top clearly suggesting that passersby walk around rather than leap over. A decrepit church stood nearby, the ugly grey siding dark with green mildew. The muffled sound of a passing car reminded Liam that the church stood just off the main road. “The way in’s over here,” Liam said, leading Madison around to the right. Though padlocked, the gate leaned inward because its top hinge had popped off, providing an inverted triangular gap to climb through. Without a pause, Madison hoisted herself up and through the gap. She was on the other side in seconds. “Coming?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Liam nodded and clambered through the gap, feeling the gate sag a little farther as it strained against its remaining hinge. “So what are we looking for?” Madison stared at him for a long time, and Liam began to shuffle his feet. Finally she dug into the pocket of her miniskirt and pulled out the folded scrap of paper. “It’s a bit like a treasure hunt only so much more,” she whispered. “Are you in?”

Chapter 3

Liam stood perfectly still as Madison nudged up alongside him and unfolded the paper. She was a few inches taller even with her flat shoes. “See?” she said, pointing to the large handwriting. “It says here we need to look for a headstone belonging to Judith E. Chambers.” “Who’s she?” “I have no idea, and it doesn’t matter. We just need to find that headstone. If it’s here. This might not be the right cemetery. But it probably is.” Liam frowned at her. “Why?” “Because it’s close. It’s always close.” “What’s always close? What are you talking about?” She smiled and shoved the paper into his hands. “I’m going to look around. You can too, if you like.” She left him standing there and headed off, glancing at every headstone she passed, sometimes pausing to brush away dirt or long grass. Liam watched her for a while, both mystified and thrilled. Was she crazy? If so, she seemed harmless enough—at the moment, anyway. As long as she didn’t start digging up dead bodies, Liam was happy to help her with her treasure hunt. First he studied the scrap of paper. It was an ordinary notepad-sized sheet with spiral binding across the top, faintly lined. The large handwriting, written in pencil, read: 2:11 AM. Cemetery. Judith E. Chambers.

Liam stared and stared. Okay, so the message was pretty clear and explained why Madison was poking around each and every headstone. What puzzled him wasn’t so much the meaning of the message but the source of it. “Where did this come from?” he called to her. “Who wrote it?” She had disappeared, and her voice came back muffled. “Me.” She straightened up from behind a clump of bushes over a grave. “That’s what I do. I write myself weird notes while I’m asleep. I wrote this one last night and discovered it this morning. At first I kicked up a fuss about moving house today. I just wanted to go hunting around all the local cemeteries. But then I figured that maybe the cemetery is here somewhere, near my new home.” “You’re not making any sense.” She sighed and moved on to the next grave. “My subconscious knew I was moving. It would have taken that into account. It knew I’d be here in Brockridge today, so this message must be about a cemetery in Brockridge.” Liam watched her drop to her knees to brush some dirt from a headstone. He stared again at the message. “But it says 2:11 AM. What’s that about?” “That’s when it’s going to happen,” she said. “When what’s going to happen?” She pursed her lips. “The event.” Sighing, Liam began trudging toward her, taking a different route to hers and glancing at the headstones as he went. “I guess you’ll tell me what the ‘event’ is in your own good time. But the note says 2:11 AM. It doesn’t say what day. It might have happened already.” Madison shook her head as she climbed to her feet

and edged sideways, peering all around. “I never specify days, only times. If I said 2:11 AM, that means the next time it’s 2:11 AM.” “Yeah, but you said you wrote this in your sleep last night. What if you wrote it at 2:00 AM and this thing happened eleven minutes later? You might have missed it already.” Again, Madison shook her head. “Good thinking, but my subconscious takes that into account too. It wouldn’t let me miss it. It meant 2:11 AM the next night, which is tonight.” Liam stopped dead when he spotted the name Judith on a headstone he was passing at that moment. He stepped closer and pushed aside the weeds. Sucking in a breath, he let out a strangled cry. “She’s here. Judith E. Chambers, 1896-1975. She’s right here!” Madison came running. She pushed him out of the way and dropped to her knees in front of the headstone. Grinning broadly, she pointed at it and looked up at Liam. “See? I told you.” As she climbed to her feet and brushed her knees down, Liam looked again at the sheet of paper. “So now what?” “Now nothing. I’ll come back at 2:11 and watch the event.” She tilted her head. “You can come too, if you like. Think you can slip out of the house?” “At 2:11?” “Well, before that. We need to be here at 2:11, so we’ll leave around 1:45, maybe? That’ll give us plenty of time. Come on, let’s get out of here.” She led the way over the lopsided gate and back along the path. Liam followed, still clutching the sheet of lined

paper. “Why are you letting me in on this?” he asked, unable to keep the suspicion from his voice. She looked over her shoulder at him as she walked. “What do you mean?” “If this is some kind of treasure hunt, why are you telling me about it? You don’t even know me.” It was a moment before she answered. “I have my reasons.” Liam sighed. “Yeah, whatever. Can Ant come, then? Just in case you’re a psycho maniac who kills people in cemeteries at nighttime?” “Is Ant a dog?” “What? No, he’s my best friend.” “And you’re prepared to put him in danger? If I’m a psycho maniac, aren’t you afraid I’ll kill him too?” This caused Liam to falter, and he had to hurry to catch her up again. “You can’t kill us both at the same time, so maybe you won’t risk it at all,” he reasoned. “Are you a psycho maniac?” She laughed. “No. And if it’ll make you feel better, I promise not to bring any weapons tonight.” “How do you know I’m not a psycho maniac?” Liam countered. “I just know,” she murmured. The way she said it made Liam think she knew something she wasn’t telling him, but she changed the subject before he could question her further. “What kind of name is Ant? Does he look like a bug?” “Anthony Carmichael,” Liam said. “Ant for short. He lives over in the rich part of town.” “Why?” “Because he’s rich.”

Madison glanced back at him and made a face. “Is he snobby?” “Not at all. He’s really cool. He hates being rich. He gets a ride to school in a limousine, but he makes Barton, the driver, stop around the corner out of sight. Ant’s just like any other guy. He just happens to have rich parents.” An overhanging branch caught the top of Madison’s head, and she faltered a moment while she freed herself. She pulled at her long black hair and brushed leaves loose, then hurried on along the path. “I guess,” she said at last. “I’m not waiting around for you guys, though. I’ll be here at 2:11 AM no matter what.” “For the event,” Liam muttered. “Exactly.” “And the event is what, again?” She stopped and swung around. Her eyes were big and wide as she clamped her hands on his shoulders and gazed at him. She was so close he could smell her minty breath. “I can’t explain,” she whispered. “And if I tried, you’d think I was crazy. You just have to see it.”

* * *

“So is she crazy?” Ant asked. Liam pressed the phone closer to his ear and started pacing up and down the deck. “She’s something. But she’s interesting and seems harmless, so I’m going tonight.” There was a long pause. “Wait a minute,” Ant said. “She’s interesting? That’s what you said about Tamika Dunn. You said she was interesting when you really meant you were in love.” “Madison’s my neighbor,” Liam said, scowling.

Ant laughed. “So what? That’s no reason to deny you have a huge crush on her.” “Just quit. I don’t want things being . . . awkward. All right? Just lay off when she’s around.” “Oh, man, you’re funny. Are all poor people like you? Afraid to express your feelings?” “Are you coming tonight or not?” Ant sighed. “It all sounds hokey to me. But I don’t want you being the victim of a crazy knife-wielding chick, so yeah, I’ll come.” “Be here at 1:30 then.” When Liam hung up, he wandered to the end of the deck and peered across the lawn at the neighboring house. Madison was probably in one of the upstairs bedrooms, unpacking and putting her stuff in order. A small child’s yell reminded him that five-year-old Cody lived there too. That kid had a lot of toys. When they’d unloaded the truck earlier that afternoon, Liam had personally carried several boxes with his name on them. He checked the time on his phone. It was still early evening, but he knew time would pass quickly once they’d eaten dinner and watched a couple of TV shows. He would set his alarm for 1:00 AM, crawl out of bed, get dressed, and sneak outside. Walking back from the cemetery, he and Madison had chatted about this and that—what movies they liked, favorite books, and so on. Their tastes weren’t a million miles apart. She loved anything to do with vampires and Gothic-style urban fantasy, and he was heavily into science fiction. He found her surprisingly easy to get along with. She listened to him and seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. Either she was trying

hard to get along with her neighbor or she was just a really nice person. In a funny way, he found himself regretful about asking Ant to join them. It would be like sharing her . . . He scoffed at himself. Sharing her? He needed to get a grip. She was fifteen, three years older and way cooler. The last thing he wanted was any awkwardness between them. He could see it now—the beautiful young woman politely rejecting the silly kid with a crush. Any ridiculous notions that she might be interested in him were best eradicated right now. Having resolved his temporary confusion, he set his mind on the night ahead. What was this ‘event’ she kept harping about? He couldn’t imagine. It was probably something wholly underwhelming, something she thought was neat but anybody else might be indifferent about. Maybe a shooting star or something—though what a particular grave in a particular cemetery had to do with it was anybody’s guess. Whatever the ‘event’ was, Liam would fake interest if he had to. As long as he wasn’t on the receiving end of a joke.

Chapter 4

The alarm on Liam’s mobile phone woke him at 1:00 AM. He rolled over and switched it off, then lay there in the darkness wondering if he could be bothered to crawl out of bed as he’d planned. The whole idea seemed so ridiculous now. It was the idea of Ant showing up that forced him to stir. It was one thing not meeting Madison, who had said she was going to the cemetery no matter what, and that he could tag along if he wanted. Ant, on the other hand, was coming especially to meet him. By now, he would have gotten dressed and left the house, and would be here in half an hour. Liam tiptoed around in the darkness, putting on his clothes and trying to avoid the squeaky floorboards. Just in case anything should happen while he was out on this crazy nighttime excursion, he wrote a quick note for his parents and left it in plain view on his bed: Went to cemetery in woods. Didn’t want Madison going alone. Ant came too. The note was suitably vague while being informative. He’d get rid of it when he returned in an hour or so, but if something untoward happened to any of them, at least his mom and dad would have a clue where to search first. After checking that his flashlight had a good battery, he left his room and sidled along the hall. He waited until he was out on the deck before putting his shoes on. By this time, his phone said it was 1:19 AM.

The night was mild, perfect for a walk. The half-moon shed a little light on the grass as he hurried out to the lane, avoiding the gravel driveway. There he waited, hunched under a tree, feeling like he was a spy on a secret mission. Ant was punctual as usual. The black limousine’s headlights illuminated the lane long before Liam heard the soft rumble of its engine. It eased along, the driver clearly trying to be quiet. When it pulled up, the rear door opened and Ant jumped out. After carefully closing the door, he tapped on the passenger door’s window, which slid down a few inches. “You can park a little farther down,” he whispered, leaning in. “I’ll be back in a while.” If the driver, Barton, said anything in reply, Liam didn’t hear it. The window rolled back up, and the limousine eased away, continuing down the lane toward the lake. The only place for Barton to turn around beyond Liam’s and Madison’s driveways was the very end of the lane by the water’s edge where it widened into a circle. “He won’t tell your dad?” Liam asked Ant. “Nah. Barton’s my man. He doesn’t approve of this little outing, but he won’t say anything unless Dad asks him directly.” Ant was red-haired, freckled, and a little plump. Though eight months older than Liam, he was usually the more carefree—and some might say immature—of the two. Tonight, though, he had thought ahead. He was wearing a lot of dark clothing and really looked like someone on a secret mission. Liam kicked himself for grabbing the first things that had come to hand—a bright white Doctor Who T-shirt and jeans, probably visible for miles around in the darkness. Some spy he was!

“When’d you get all that?” he asked his friend with an up-and-down gesture of his hand. “Looks like you went out specially and bought a 007 Secret Agent outfit.” “Well, I thought about it,” Ant said seriously. “I dug out these old things after you called, but I really wanted a pair of night-vision goggles. Should I have sprung for some?” He looked pained and shook his head. “I wish I had. The cheap ones are only about eight hundred bucks. It would have been cool.” “You’re such a cheapskate,” Liam said. “Now we’ll have to make do with my three-dollar flashlight.” He pulled it out of his pocket and switched it on briefly. For such a cheap thing, its LED light was super-bright, and Ant squinted. “So where’s Madison?” Ant said. “Oh—is this her?” Liam swung around. Emerging into the lane from the neighboring driveway was a silent shadowy figure. It was only when she stepped up close and Liam switched his flashlight on again that her identity was confirmed. Madison wore the same black clothes again, though she’d switched out her T-shirt for something with longer sleeves. Now only her hands and face stood out in the half-moon’s light. “You must be Ant,” she said softly. “And you must be Madison,” Ant murmured. A brief silence fell as the two looked each other up and down. The Madison said, “Well, we’re all early, but it’s better than being late. Lead on, boys.” “After you,” Ant said with a flourish. “Up the lane,” Liam offered, “then turn right onto the narrow path through the woods and keep walking until—” “I remember,” she said shortly. “All right, stay close.”

The boys followed her in the darkness. Ant gave Liam a sharp nudge and nodded vigorously, smiling while mouthing something Liam couldn’t understand. He frowned at his friend and put a finger to his lips. As if sensing the silent conversation, Madison spoke over her shoulder without looking back. “I hope you’re not whispering about me back there. And if you are, I hope you’re saying nice things.” “We’re not,” Liam said. “You’re not saying nice things about me?” “Yes! I mean no, we’re not whispering.” “We are too!” Ant said. “And yes, we’re saying nice things. Liam is, anyway. He’s been going on about you all day.” Liam gritted his teeth. “Ant, shut up. Don’t listen to him, Madison. I’ve hardly even mentioned you.” She was silent while she walked ahead, not looking back. “You hardly even mentioned me? I’m hurt.” Ant chortled. They turned off the road onto the narrow path that led through the woods. Safely away from the houses, Liam switched on his flashlight. The others pulled out flashlights of their own, and suddenly there were three beams dancing about as they walked single file between the trees and bushes. “So, Ant,” Madison said from the front, speaking loud and clear now. “Liam tells me you’re rich.” “Yeah,” Ant said with a sigh. He was right behind her. “Have you heard of Carmichael Industries?” “No.” “Ninth largest U.S. manufacturer of navigation instruments?”

“No.” “You haven’t heard of the Carmichael fluxgate compass?” “No.” Ant paused. “Really? It’s what made him famous. What do you know about variometers and MHD sensors? My dad sells more of those than—” “So your dad owns the company?” Madison said. “Yeah.” “And does he give you a huge allowance to buy whatever you like whenever you like?” Despite the decidedly pointed question, her tone gave no hint of scorn or jealousy. She sounded genuinely interested. Ant paused again. “I have way too much money, yes.” “And do you let that go to your head?” “You’re very direct.” Madison let out a laugh. “I am. I’m just a poor, penniless girl with no manners. I’m glad Liam is an equally poor, penniless neighbor. He seems very nice. I’m just worried that you, Ant, are some snobby rich kid.” Liam couldn’t help grinning. “She’s got your number, Ant.” “She does not,” Ant retorted. “If she knew me at all, she’d know I couldn’t care less about money. I can’t help it if my parents make me go to school in a limousine and give me loaded debit cards in case I need to buy something in an emergency. I really just want to be penniless like you guys.” Madison laughed again. “No, you don’t. Money is good. Being rich is fine as long as you don’t think you’re a cut above everyone else. You sound like a down-to-earth guy, Ant.”

“I am,” Ant said. From the sound of his voice, Liam knew he was pouting just a little bit. But the grumpiness didn’t last long. “So what’s the deal with this sleep- writing thing you do?” By now, they had turned left at the fork and would be approaching the cemetery soon. It was annoying having to walk single file, especially as Liam was at the rear end, but at least they had no need to keep their voices down. Whatever this forthcoming ‘event’ was, Madison seemed unafraid of announcing her presence. She flung her hands out to her sides in an exaggerated shrug. “Didn't Liam tell you? I write myself messages in my sleep. It started a few months ago, a message every week or so. Every time there’s a message, I follow the directions and see it.” “See what?” She ignored the question and went off on a tangent. “I told Jenny after the first few times, and she freaked out and wanted nothing to do with it. Jenny’s my best friend back up north. We’ll stay in touch, but honestly, she’s not much good with anything remotely weird. Terrified of ghost movies and spiders. She ran a mile when I showed her an event one sunny morning.” The cemetery loomed into view in the clearing ahead, and Madison turned to follow the wrought-iron railings. “She said it wasn’t natural and that we should leave it alone. She was seriously scared, and I never brought it up again. She asked me about it once or twice afterward, but I told her it had stopped happening, that I wasn’t sleep writing anymore. I kept it to myself after that.” She stopped by the gate and peered through the darkness into the cemetery. Liam had been so focused on

her words that he’d almost tuned out the creepiness of the place. Now he took it in and felt a thrill of anticipation— and anxiety. The graveyard was absolutely silent and still. Madison turned to face Liam and Ant and spoke quietly. “I’m hoping you guys will enjoy this. It’s different every time, sometimes scary, sometimes not. But it’s amazing and special, and I want to share it.” Liam pulled out his mobile phone and thumbed the button on the side. The screen lit up, revealing the time as 1:49 AM. “Twenty minutes yet,” he said, surprised at how jittery he felt. He hoped his voice didn’t sound shaky. Madison pulled out her own phone. It, too, read 1:49 AM. Liam knew that phones typically received their times from the cell towers, which in turn relied on a continental atomic clock. All three of them were likely in sync, which was useful since the time indicated in Madison’s message was so precise. 2:11 AM—exactly twenty-two minutes away. “So how about a heads-up?” Ant demanded. “What are we expecting to happen?” Madison grinned and climbed through the gap in the gate. It sagged even more under her weight. “If I tell you now, you’ll think I’m crazy. Just come and watch.” Liam and Ant followed her through, then stood and watched as she picked her way between headstones to the one marked Judith E. Chambers. She stared at it a moment, then returned to where the boys stood. “We should stay back.” “Why?” Liam said. “Is Judith Chambers going to rise from her grave and dance about?” Madison shook her head. “No, nothing like that.”

“So what then?” Ant demanded again. Madison turned in a circle, looking around. “We need to find somewhere to hide. Maybe we should go back out to the trees and take cover. Either that or duck down behind those tall headstones over there.” Apparently making up her mind, she headed over to a corner of the cemetery where five tall, lopsided stones stood among clumps of bushes. The grass and weeds rose high there, and when Madison settled herself behind the center headstone, she was pretty well hidden. She waved Liam and Ant over. Ant sighed. “Whatever happens isn’t going to live up to the expectation. It’s going to be something really lame. Probably a nest of fireflies about to hatch or something.” However illogical Ant’s suggestion was, it rose to the top of Liam’s list as the most likely. They stamped through the long grass and crouched near Madison, one on either side, using the three middle headstones of the five. Liam would have preferred to be near Ant so they could share whispers about how crazy this girl was, but he didn’t relish the idea of being positioned by one of the outer headstones. The fact that Madison wanted them to hide made him nervous. They waited and waited, anxiety giving way to boredom and then slowly reverting to anxiety as the countdown reached two minutes to go. An owl hooted somewhere as Liam stared at his phone display. “2:09,” he said. “We know,” Madison whispered. She tucked her own phone back into her pocket. “Okay, no more phones. Put them away. No bright lights, no flashlights. No talking. Just watch and wait. And when it happens, no screaming

like girls. Be quiet, okay?” Even she sounded nervous now. Liam’s heart began to thump. He wished he were tucked up in bed. Then again, if that were the case, he’d be forever wondering what all the fuss was about. He had to be here. Not daring to look at his phone, he was a little annoyed to see that Madison snuck a look at her own. Its screen lit up briefly, then dimmed again. “2:11,” she whispered. “It’s time.”

Chapter 5

Nothing happened at first, and Liam finally let out a long, shuddering breath. He opened his mouth to say something, but Madison had been anticipating him. “Shh,” she said sharply. “It’ll be 2:11 for a whole minute. Be patient.” And a second later, the ‘event’ started—with a four- foot vertical slit of light right over Judith E. Chambers’ grave as though a lightning bolt had shot down from the sky and frozen in midair. The slit quickly expanded sideways until it formed a perfect circle of blinding light. Liam shielded his eyes, blinking rapidly as he crouched low and stared in disbelief. The light dimmed and rippled like a pool of fiery liquid, hanging sideways in the air and defying gravity. Abruptly, the center of the pool depressed until it looked like a bowl on its side, and it kept deepening until an endless tunnel had formed—a tunnel of swirling light as though reality were being sucked into a vortex. Liam rubbed his eyes. If he were watching a science- fiction show, he would immediately identify such an anomaly as a wormhole, a gateway to another point in space. They were commonplace on TV, a fictional representation of a hypothetical bridge across space and time where the universe folded in on itself and a shortcut formed between two planes of existence. But all that stuff was impossible. “No way,” he moaned over and over.

“Way,” Madison said, reaching for his hand. She squeezed it tightly, and when he glanced at her, she put a finger to her lips. “Stay cool, okay?” She looked to see how Ant was doing. Liam returned his attention to the wormhole, watching it rotate like a miniature tornado on its side, looking down its throat and seeing the tunnel twist away into the distance even though from another angle it was nothing more than a floating disk above the cemetery. “No way,” he muttered again. The wormhole dimmed a little and slowed. It seemed to be stabilizing, becoming a more permanent feature, though for what possible reason Liam had no clue. “This beats fireflies,” he said. Madison frowned. “Fireflies?” “Never mind. It’s just . . . it’s . . .” She grinned. “Amazing, right? But remember, stay quiet. You haven’t seen anything yet. This is just the gateway.” Liam’s heart skipped a beat again. Gateway for what? A figure shot out of the wormhole. Liam stumbled backward and nearly yelled, and he was dimly aware of Ant doing the exact same thing. Madison glared at them both in turn, her finger held to her lips. Liam curled into a ball on hands and knees, ducking down low behind the headstone. It was a while before he braved a peek. By this time, two other figures had joined the first. They were rotund humanoids, no more than three feet tall with short, stubby legs and arms. They wore layers of animal furs and necklaces of long teeth. But it was their faces that caught Liam’s full attention,

with downturned slits for mouths, pudgy noses, beady little eyes, shaggy eyebrows, huge ears, and fine, wispy hair swept back from their foreheads. Humanoid, but entirely alien. “What are they?” Liam croaked. Madison leaned toward him. Head to head, they stared through the same gap between headstones. “I don’t know,” she whispered back. “They’re always different.” “What do you mean?” “Every time a gateway opens, different creatures come through. They’re never the same. Last time they were tall and thin, about a dozen of them with two legs and four arms. Or maybe just six legs and no arms. Some stood up straight, others ran around like giant stick insects. Horrible things. All these people come from different places, and I don’t know what any of them are called.” She fell silent. The short, fat creatures were moving about, their gazes fixed on small metallic instruments that glowed with light and emitted clicks and whirrs. They waved them from side to side as though testing for radiation with Geiger counters. “Geologists?” Madison offered. She leaned closer again, and Liam would have been thrilled at her proximity if he weren’t so focused on the group of aliens not more than thirty paces away. “They often seem to be inspecting the place. Sometimes they take plants away, others scoop up little soil samples. They test the air, too. I think they’re checking it out, seeing if Earth is habitable, maybe?” “Preparing for an invasion,” Liam said with horror. “Shouldn’t we tell someone? Warn the Government?” She shook her head. “It’s not always like this. I saw lots of children once. Alien children—very thin and bald

with large heads. I know they were children because they had an adult with them, and the adult stood there like she was a teacher watching over her class. I think it was a school field trip.” “A school field trip? In a graveyard at night?” Ant squirmed closer, staying low. “I can’t hear anything you’re saying over here. Maddy, what is this?” “Shh. Voice down.” Two of the squat geologists—if indeed that was what they were—had wandered off to the far side of the cemetery. The third remained by the wormhole, illuminated by its faint, swirling glow. He was scanning the ground right in front of the headstone, a scowl plastered across his forehead. Madison quietly repeated all she had told Liam, and only then did she respond to his earlier question. “The school field trip wasn’t in a graveyard. These gateways open up in different places. Don’t forget I lived hundreds of miles north of here until yesterday. The field trip was actually in a cow field.” “Figures,” Ant muttered. “And it was early in the morning, around seven if I remember. I noted it in my journal.” The alien was now on his hands and knees, scooping dirt and clods of grass aside as though his hands were trowels. After a while he paused, picked up his glowing device, and studied it. It let out a high-pitched whining, oscillating sound as he moved it about. “He’s grave digging,” Ant whispered fiercely. “What’s so interesting about Judith E. Chambers?” “Nothing,” Madison said. “She’s irrelevant. This just happens to be where the gateway is. But it’s a cemetery,

and maybe they’ve figured out there are human bones buried here.” Liam was getting a cramp. He shifted his leg and wriggled into a better position lying on his stomach. Madison and Ant did the same, and they ended up squeezed together, peering through the same gap. Liam wished he was wearing something darker than a bright white T-shirt. He felt that he probably stood out a mile in the darkness. Madison turned her head from side to side, grinning at them both. “My little guys. Isn’t this cool? It’s nice to share the load.” “Why haven’t you told anyone else?” Ant asked. “I mean other than us and what’s-her-name?” “Jenny.” Madison chewed her lip for a moment. “I guess I’m not ready to share. If I show my parents, that’ll be it for me. No more sneaking around watching these events. Worse, my parents will tell the authorities, and pretty soon I’ll be whisked away and interrogated for weeks, and I’ll probably never see the light of day again.” Liam shook his head. “Wow.” “It’s true. If the Government got hold of information like this—accurate times and places where gateways to other worlds will open up—don’t you think they’d want to keep that absolutely secret? I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I think I’m better off just keeping quiet about it. Enjoying it for myself.” She grinned again. “And now with you guys.” “So why us?” Liam asked, remembering how guarded she’d been about this subject earlier that afternoon. Apparently she remembered too. She winked and whispered, “Like I said, I have my reasons.”

The gravedigger alien stood abruptly and brushed off his hands. He’d dug down maybe two feet, about two- thirds his own height, and seemed to have come to a conclusion. He tapped his device and shuffled away, calling out to his companions in a surprisingly deep voice. The words were unintelligible. The other two aliens paused in their scouting and waited for him to make his way past all the headstones. It took a full half-minute for the three to converge and start muttering to each other. Liam could almost imagine the conversation: “Hey, we’re in a graveyard. There are bones below the ground. We can study the human form right here.” Of course, they wouldn’t necessarily know that Earthlings were ‘human,’ or even that this planet was called Earth. What did they know? Was this some random world they were exploring, or had they programmed their wormhole machine to scout out this particular place? Wormhole machine? Questions raced through Liam’s mind. Had these people manually opened this swirling gateway as Madison called it? Or had it opened on its own and they just happened to know about it? The digger-alien returned, waddling on his short legs in his hurry to return to the wormhole. He seemed to have agreed on something with his companions, and when he reached Judith E. Chambers’ headstone, he stepped close to the anomaly and reached up to it. In a flash, he was gone, sucked into the wormhole. Ant let out a gasp. Madison giggled. “It’s always like that. Gateways have a lot of suction, kind of like vacuum cleaners. Funny

thing is, it seems to work both ways at the same time. I guess you get sucked in one end and spat out the other no matter what. I always wondered what would happen if two people collided halfway through . . .” “So he’s gone?” Liam said, his heart hammering. “Back to his own planet?” “I assume so.” The remaining pair of visitors had made their way to the cemetery gate. They stared at it for a while as if wondering whether to attempt climbing over. Finally they did so, far less gracefully than taller, slimmer humans might. When they reached the other side, they moved off into the trees, their deep voices carrying through the night. Abruptly, the gravedigger reappeared, shooting feet first out of the wormhole and landing with a thump on Judith E. Chambers’ overgrown grave. Now he held a large piece of equipment, a dark-colored boxlike object with handholds on the sides and a nozzle that pointed downward. Wasting no time, he activated the machine, and a throbbing growl blasted out. The air shimmered, the ground vibrated. Dirt shot upward, scattering everywhere in a fine spray. The alien leaned over the grave and moved the machine in a circle, and endless streams of dirt flew out, plastering him and the surrounding headstones in a dry, crumbling, brown shower. The machine fell silent. The gravedigger put it aside and jumped down into the hole, disappearing from sight. Moments later, Liam heard the sound of splintering wood. “He really is digging up the bones,” he said, appalled.

Chapter 6

The sound of cracking, splintering wood continued from the grave of Judith E. Chambers. If there was such a thing as an afterlife, Liam wagered she wouldn’t be happy right now. “Could have picked a fresher body,” Madison muttered. “I guess these little aliens can’t read dates, though. That corpse must be past its prime by now.” “Aren’t all corpses past their prime?” Ant said. A long silence followed. What was the creature doing down there? Liam imagined it had pulled open the coffin and was—what? Examining the bones? Trying to ascertain the Earthling form? Making notes and scraping off samples? Despite the weirdness of the situation, Liam was enthralled. “I’m glad you moved in next door,” he said after a while. Madison looked sideways at him. “I’m glad you’re being so cool about this. I’ll show you my journal tomorrow. Once I know my scribbled messages are accurate, I copy the information across and add notes about what I saw. We need to come up with a name for these guys.” “How about short-rounds?” Ant suggested. “Or munchkins,” Liam said. Madison stifled a laugh. “Maybe we should be more serious about it. It’s just hard coming up with names for all these different aliens. I wish we could just ask them.”

Liam and Ant shared a glance. She noticed immediately and grew serious. “I'm kidding. Obviously we’re not going to ask them any such thing. They might be dangerous.” “They might not,” Liam said. “I mean, they’re only little, like harmless professors or something, probably more scared of us than we are of them.” “And they might have ray guns that can melt our brains.” She had a point. Still, Liam couldn’t help feeling a little wistful. “So you’ve never approached any of these aliens? You’ve just watched from a distance?” Madison stared hard at him. “Okay, so this is where I pull rank. This is my discovery, and I’m older and wiser than you both. We don’t know anything about these people, and we won’t get a chance to watch them long enough to find out. Once they’re gone, we probably won’t ever see them again. Next time it’ll be a different bunch of aliens, and we won’t know anything about them either. So we’re here to observe only. Got it?” The idea of Madison being peeved was enough to bring him in line. He nodded. “I was just asking,” he mumbled. She relaxed and sighed, then turned to Ant. “That goes for you too, Ant. You’re my guests, okay? I’m in charge.” He stuck his bottom lip out but gave a nod. “You’re the boss. But I can’t help wondering what’s on the other side of that wormhole.” “It’s a gateway,” Madison said. “And I wonder all the time. But I’m not dumb enough to find out. There could be twenty of them waiting on the other end.” “There might not be any,” Liam said.

The gravedigger appeared suddenly, hoisting his short, fat body out of the hole and climbing to his feet. He was grimy and bedraggled but had a curious expression on his face, his mouth twisted up at the edges into what Liam supposed was a grin. He ran pudgy fingers through his fine brown hair, pushing it back over his head, and poked around in an ear for a second as if he’d got something lodged in there. Then he called out to his companions. This time his voice was loud enough that his words were discernible, though still meaningless. “Badrakka fah pahlassa,” it sounded like. He stalked away, picking a route past the headstones back to the lopsided cemetery gate. His buddies were deep in the woods by now, apparently engrossed in their research. Gravedigger was heading off to find them. As he was climbing over the gate, Liam looked toward the swirling wormhole. It was unattended. Nobody was around. There was nothing to stop him running over there and getting a closer look, perhaps even standing under it and getting whisked up into the vortex. He could be the very first human to set foot on an alien planet, if only for a moment. These creatures treated it like a simple corridor. He could too. He could pop through, take a quick peek, and pop back again. Heck, he could even snatch a few pictures with his phone’s camera . . . The temptation was great. His heart thumped just thinking about it, a surge of adrenaline rather than abject fear. To leap into that wormhole would be foolish, crazy, downright stupid—but if he didn’t, he might regret it for the rest of his life. Better to regret something you did than something you didn’t, his dad liked to say. Of course, his dad was talking

about mundane things like asking a girl out, not stepping across the universe to an alien planet. Still, the sentiment was sound. If Liam passed up this opportunity, he would forever wonder what he might have seen. On the other hand, if he did this, he might die. He realized Madison was watching him. She raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead. I’ll wake your parents in the morning and tell them their son is on another planet and won’t be back in time for breakfast. Or lunch. Or ever.” Liam felt the adrenaline ebbing. The thumping of his heart began to ease. He knew the moment was slipping away. He was losing his nerve. Madison pulled out her phone and thumbed the button on the side. The screen lit up, revealing the time as 2:33 AM. It was hard to believe they’d been watching these aliens for only twenty-two minutes. It had felt like an hour or more. “We have about seventeen minutes left,” Madison said. “The gateways stay open for just under forty minutes. I have no idea why, but they collapse and vanish, kind of expire. It’s the same every time, and the aliens always head home before then.” “Seventeen minutes,” Liam repeated. For some reason that emboldened him. Seventeen minutes wasn’t long, but it was far better than not knowing at all. His heart started racing again. “We can do it.” “Liam, no,” Madison said, gripping his arm. He shook her off. “I’ll be there and back in no time. Just a quick peek, that’s all.” “Liam—” He had time to register Ant’s wide-eyed expression before he jumped up and raced across the grass, hurdling a

headstone as he went. He thought he heard Madison whispering loudly at him, but it might have been the wind in his ears. He’d already checked to see if the coast was clear. The cemetery was as dark and silent as ever, the three squat geologists somewhere in the woods. He had time. It would take only a minute, perhaps less. Rounding the open grave, he cast a look down. Earth was scattered all over the place, a fine coating that had turned everything brown, and Judith E. Chambers’ resting place was wide open, the coffin lid upright. It was hard to see the mass of dirty material and bones within, and Liam was glad. The tug of the wormhole was strong before he was anywhere close to it. Hovering a little beyond Judith’s headstone, it pulled hungrily at Liam as momentum carried him stumbling toward it. Suddenly terrified, he changed his mind at the very last second—but it was too late. A powerful force yanked him off his feet. The tunnel swirled around him as he shot along at breakneck speed. He miraculously avoided hitting the walls no matter how much the vortex twisted and turned. Direction seemed to have lost all meaning. Was he being pulled or pushed through the wormhole? Or was he simply falling now? Either way, he wished he could position his feet first so he wouldn’t brain himself when he fell out the other end. In the back of his mind he remembered how the short alien had been sucked into the wormhole head first yet had emerged feet first both times. Was there a knack to that? As terrifying and breathless as his journey was, it was painless and oddly silent, the only sound his own yelling.

Gasping, he tried to calm his nerves and count away the time. He couldn’t have been gone more than five or ten seconds, probably less. How far across the universe had he traveled? Light exploded all around, and he yelled and hit something hard, hurting his shoulder as he skidded across a polished floor. He distinctly heard the squeak of his shoes as he scrabbled onto hands and knees and spun around. The wormhole was still there, only he was someplace entirely different and new. A room with a hard metal floor, cavelike rock walls, a rounded irregular ceiling with lumps hanging down here and there, four dim light globes dangling from wires, a couple of very short desks and chairs . . . Liam took it all in at a glance as he sweated up a storm and took in deep, ragged breaths. He fumbled for his phone, thinking of taking pictures, but his hands were shaking far too much and he quickly gave up on the idea. Still on his knees, he spun around again in case more aliens were lurking in the shadows. Seeing none, he climbed to his feet and stood there with his knees knocking, amazed at how short the desks were, almost childlike. Though the cave was at least fifteen feet high, the light globes hung low enough to bump his head on. The two desks were gnarled and wooden, but the equipment set out on top was anything but primitive—an array of gadgets and, most notably, shimmering squares of light hovering over each, alien computer screens filled with gibberish. “Okay, seen enough, time to go,” Liam said aloud in a shuddering voice. But his attention fell on a slender tripod

standing not two feet behind him. Though he hadn’t noticed earlier, he must have come close to knocking it over during his dramatic entrance. The tripod was unremarkable, similar to any number of camera tripods he’d seen except for a stubby cylinder fixed underneath. On top of the assembly stood a small, slim object, silver in color and about the size and shape of a pen. Liam bent to look at it, noticing tiny dials around its tip. He snatched at it. It came loose, but not before knocking the tripod over with a dull crash. Gripping it tightly, he turned back to the swirling wormhole, swallowed, and took a deep breath. It was time to go home. Four steps forward brought him in sucking range of the vortex. It pulled at him, and he leaned back, allowing it to drag at him. He imagined he would slide across the floor if he weren’t wearing rubber soles. Suddenly off balance, he tumbled forward and was yanked upward. Once again he spun and yelled, the tunnel walls rushing by, and again it took him a moment to get a grip on his fear. Only then did he appreciate the dreamlike quality of the wormhole, the oddly comforting solitude and— He shot out the other end and landed face down in a pile of dirt in front of Judith E. Chambers’ headstone.

Chapter 7

Relief at being back home on Earth flooded through him. He didn’t care that his nerves were fried and he was covered in dirt. He’d done it! He’d visited an alien world! Rising to his feet, he checked to see that all was clear—and was shocked to find that it wasn’t. All three of the short geologists stood frozen thirty feet away, staring at him. Apparently they’d started heading back right after he’d hurled himself into the wormhole. The moment stretched on. Liam glanced toward the five headstones where his friends hid. He could see their faces peering through one of the gaps, but only because he knew where to look, otherwise they were nicely hidden. One of the aliens shuffled forward, spouting something in his growling, meaningless language. He was pointing at Liam and sounded agitated. Liam’s heart hammered even harder. Which way to run? Hurdle the iron railings? Or dart around the three aliens and use the busted gate? These guys were short and fat, probably unable to waddle after him for long. He could dash to the far side of the graveyard, leading the visitors away from Ant and Madison, and then double back and escape through the gate. The lead alien—the gravedigger, still plastered in dirt—called to him, his words unintelligible. A hint of urgency gave Liam pause. There was no menace or threat, just concern, perhaps even panic. He was pointing at Liam, jabbing his fat finger toward him.

No, Liam realized. Not at me. He’s pointing at this thing I stole. He still gripped the silver, penlike object in one hand and was absently holding it aloft as though wielding a knife. The alien’s concern became clear. He wanted the device back. Liam instinctively understood it was important. After all, it had been set up on a tripod in the middle of the floor directly in front of the wormhole opening. Perhaps it was the ‘wormhole machine’ Liam had imagined earlier. If so, it was extremely valuable. He could use it to open more wormholes and visit other worlds . . . The three aliens were spreading out, clearly tense and preparing for some kind of takedown. They really wanted their device back. Liam snatched another glance toward his hiding friends. They were still cowering behind the headstones. “You want this back?” Liam said, returning his attention to the gnarly-faced creatures before him. The gravedigger was edging closer. “Okay, fine. I’ll . . . I’ll put it down right here, okay? You can have it. I don’t want any trouble.” He was waving it around as he spoke, and the gravedigger’s beady eyes widened. As Liam tried to decide where to place the device—on a headstone, or perhaps on top of a small mound of dirt—the alien reached into a concealed pocket and rummaged around. He withdrew something shiny, something that looked very like what Liam held. At only fifteen feet apart, both Liam and the unearthly visitor wielded penlike weapons as though preparing for

battle. Yet the alien was already advancing, moving slowly, offering his device while holding out his other hand palm upwards. Liam suddenly understood. “You want to swap? I'm fine with that.” He took a step closer to the gravedigger, mimicking the other and offering his stolen device while holding out a hand for a replacement. He would have given his up for free; he was, after all, just a twelve-year-old boy and had no business owning such a powerful contraption. But to have another device offered in its place seemed like a perfectly good deal. The exchange went without a hitch. Their empty hands simultaneously clasped the proffered devices while releasing the others. Liam heard palpable sighs of relief from the two aliens to his left and right while the gravedigger gave a nod and pocketed his treasure. After that, they stared at each other for a long time. Liam felt the tension lifting. He relaxed a little, shifting his feet and rolling his shoulders. He licked his lips before speaking. “So, uh . . .” Words failed him. He had a million questions that jostled for priority, but in the end they blurred together into one big noise in his head. Something beeped. The gravedigger visibly jumped and raised his left hand. Under his sleeve was what looked like a wristwatch. Liam almost laughed out loud. It seemed so absurd, an intergalactic alien wearing a wristwatch. As it turned out, though, the beep seemed to be a warning of some kind, and the gravedigger tapped the watch and gestured to his colleagues.

The three of them converged on Liam. Feeling the tug of the wormhole at his back, he panicked. He did not want to get sucked up again with these three following him through. They could trap him at the other end and cart him off to some lonely dungeon on an asteroid, or worse. Madison suddenly leapt up from her hiding place and yelled at him. “Let them pass, you idiot! The gateway’s about to close!” Realization struck, and Liam sidled away from the wormhole. This action seemed to please the aliens. They grunted and nodded, then rushed forward eagerly. One by one, the vortex yanked them off their feet and into its yawning, swirling maw. Liam stood aside, amazed. From where he stood, at the foot end of Judith E. Chambers’ open grave, the wormhole tugged ineffectually at his clothes and hair. It began to flicker and warp as though someone had thrown in a wrench and knocked it off balance. He wondered what would happen if a traveler tried to make it through during such a perilous stage. What if it ceased to be? Would the traveler end up floating in deep space? He backed away. Even more awe-inspiringly terrifying than a wormhole was an unstable wormhole. He became aware of Ant and Madison appearing at his sides. Nobody said a word, but they all watched in silence as the vortex flickered and brightened, then began shrinking, closing down. No longer swirling, the tunnel stilled and died and eventually broke apart in a display of silent flashes. About five seconds after it had completely vanished, Madison punched Liam on the upper arm and then, as he

yelled out, shoved him so hard that he toppled backward and landed on his backside. His precious alien device dropped from his grasp. “You idiot!” Madison screeched. “What were you thinking? You might have gotten stuck someplace else! You might have been killed!” “Not cool, man,” Ant added, sounding shaky. Liam crawled around on his hands and knees, searching the long grass while trying to ignore the throbbing pain on his arm. It was going to bruise. “Sorry, sorry. I just . . . I just had to, you know? And I’m here, all safe and sound. No harm done, right?” “Not from them,” Madison said, lifting her foot and giving him a hard shove on the rear that laid him out flat on his face. “Of all the moronic things to do. Did you even think about what might have happened?” “Yeah, yeah,” Liam said, flinching as she took another step toward him. “I almost didn’t go. Look, I get it, okay? I’m an idiot. I’m a moron. I totally agree, and I’m sorry.” He knelt there on the grass, looking up at a furious Madison and a mildly ticked-off Ant. “Really, I’m sorry. It was stupid. I won’t do it again.” As those last words tumbled out, he knew it was a complete lie. He would do it again. And it was probably best to correct his statement now rather than later. “Well, not without talking about it first, anyway.” He found the silver penlike object and held it up. “And look. A genuine alien artifact.” “So you can write in alien ink now?” Ant said. “Was it worth the risk?” Liam swallowed. His friends’ glares drilled into him, and he looked down at the ground for a moment. They

were right, of course. He’d been an idiot, and a selfish one at that. He’d deliberately gone against Madison’s wishes just to satisfy his own reckless curiosity. “It’s not a pen,” he said shakily. “It looks like one, but it’s not. It’s . . . it’s what opened the wormhole.” Seeing their narrowed eyes, he took advantage of the silence and pressed on, climbing to his feet as he did so. “It was rigged to a tripod, set up in front of the wormhole kind of like a camera. I think it was what opened the wormhole in the first place. That’s why they needed it back so badly.” He frowned, peering at the device. “This isn’t the one I stole, though. We did an exchange. But it's similar.” “Probably a dud,” Ant said. “If I were visiting an alien world and some idiot stole my only means of getting home, I’d offer whatever I had in my pocket—which is a lot considering how rich I am.” He said this without an ounce of conceit. Liam nodded slowly. “I don’t think they needed the device, the wand, to get home. I think the wand just opens the wormhole, and then its job is done. So they could have gotten home without it just fine. But then they wouldn’t have a wand anymore, and they wouldn’t be able to visit any other places. Not without a new wand, anyway.” “Wonder how much they cost,” Ant mused. “I wonder if they can get them at their local convenience store or—” “Guys!” Madison exploded. Her voice echoed throughout the graveyard, liable to stir the dead. She took a deep breath and pushed her hair back. “I’m done with this. I made a huge mistake bringing a couple of boys along. You’re not ready. You’re dangerous. You have no sense of . . . of responsibility. It’s just one big joke to you, isn’t it?”

Even though she aimed her glare at Liam, the force of her displeasure caused Ant to hang his head in shame as well. “It’s not Ant’s fault,” Liam mumbled. “No,” Madison said. “It’s my fault. The biggest idiot here is me—for telling you my secret.” She put up a hand to ward off any further protests. “We’re done. Go home to bed. Forget this ever happened. Just . . . just go.”

Chapter 8

“Nice going, doofus,” Ant muttered as the boys trudged along the wooded path toward home. Despite Madison telling them to go home, it was she who led the way—several hundred feet ahead. “She’s really steamed,” Ant said. Liam sighed. “I know.” “You ruined your chances with her.” “I know. Wait, what?” “She’s never gonna date you now.” “I don’t care about that,” Liam said, giving his friend a sideways shove. “You don’t care about anything.” “That’s not true!” The path narrowed, and they were forced to walk single file. Conversation died, but Liam was glad; he was about done with the jabs by now. When he next spoke, he’d regained some of his self-confidence. “She’ll come around,” he said quietly. “She has to.” Ant, in front, slowed. “What makes you so sure?” “We have a wormhole wand now. We can make our own wormholes. That’s better than a bunch of cryptic messages.” Scoffing, Ant resumed his pace. “You really think that thing works? I’m telling you, it’s a dud. If it worked, why would the alien bother swapping it? Nah, I’m sure it’s broken or something.” “So why was he carrying it in his pocket?”

“I don’t know. But he seemed pretty concerned about getting the one you stole back, and he didn’t seem to care a whole lot about the one he gave you.” “Well, we all have favorites,” Liam argued. “If someone stole my favorite pen, I’d want to swap it for one I didn’t like as much.” He paused, realizing how silly that sounded. “Let’s just call it a night and we’ll figure things out tomorrow, okay?” They were back at the lane now. As they emerged from the woods, Ant flashed his light ahead. In the darkness, they glimpsed Madison skulking in the shadows, her own flashlight aimed at the ground, dancing from side to side as she walked. Ant deliberately clicked his beam on and off three times. Immediately afterward came the sound of an engine starting. Two dazzling headlamps lit up the lane, and Madison flinched and shielded her face. She hurried into her driveway and vanished. Barton brought the gentle, rumbling limousine closer as Ant stopped and turned to Liam. “What you did tonight was stupid. But I’ll let it pass because I nearly did it myself.” Liam smiled. “So we’re still buddies because you nearly did the same stupid thing as me?” “I just wasn’t quite as stupid, that’s all.” “Maybe you were just too chicken.” Ant pursed his lips. “You have a point there. Well, anyway, see you tomorrow. What time?” Liam shrugged. “Nine?” “Okay. And promise me something.” “What?” “Don’t touch that wormhole wand until I get here.”

“Fair enough. See you.” Ant climbed into the waiting limousine and pulled the door shut with a soft thunk. The car eased away.

* * *

It took supreme effort to leave the wormhole wand alone. Liam crept back into his room and put it away in a drawer, knowing that to leave it in sight would be far too tempting. He diverted attention from it by fretting over his filthy clothes. How would he explain them to his mom? As he was washing his hands and face—hard to do in utter darkness and silence so as not to wake his parents— he came up with a plan. He’d store the clothes away and wait for the right moment during the week. Maybe after school on Monday he could change into them and sneak out the back, then roll around in the dirt for a while and come back in. That way, the state of his clothes would be legitimately awful. His mom would never suspect he’d been out in the middle of the night traipsing through the woods and exploring a graveyard. He lay in bed thinking about the mysterious wand in his drawer. Would he and Ant get it working? Would they open wormholes of their own and visit alien planets? His thoughts drifted to Madison, and he realized he’d been quelling a great surge of guilt. The truth was, he didn’t regret throwing himself into the wormhole. He wished, however, that he’d done so with her blessing. He wasn’t sure what was worse—missing out on the company of a beautiful teenager or just the fact that he’d acted selfishly, not to mention foolishly, and upset her. He’d

betrayed her trust and created a rift between them, one that might never be undone. He fell asleep at last, dreaming that Madison’s anger would dissolve when the sun rose in the morning . . .

* * *

He woke abruptly when his mom tapped on his door and called to him. “Ant’s here. Shall I send him in?” “Mmm,” Liam said, dozing off again. When he next woke, Ant was lightly jabbing him through the sheets with a sword. “Arise, Sir Liam, for the sun is out and the day is a-wasting.” “That’s my Frodo sword!” Liam said. “Put it down. It’s worth a fortune.” “It’s worth about a hundred bucks,” Ant said, putting the sword back into its scabbard. “It’s cheap movie merchandise. If you want a real collectible, I could—” “What, buy the original from the movie set?” Liam shook his head and stumbled across the room to get dressed. “Money means squat to you. I spent months saving so I could buy this sword.” Ant said nothing as he stared out the window at the morning sunshine. Eventually he sighed. “What I’d give to save up for something. To put my allowance aside every week and watch it accumulate, and then spend it all on something I really, really wanted.” Liam glanced at him suspiciously. Seeing the wistful look on Ant’s face, he said, “You could save up too. You just have to think of something you really, really want that costs tens of thousands of dollars, something even you can’t really afford to buy at the drop of a hat. Something

you must have even though it seems like a lot of money.” Ant nodded. “Yeah. I wouldn’t mind a twenty-inch ACF observatory telescope. I have my eye on one. It’s about thirty-five thousand.” Liam blinked. “Thirty-five thousand what?” “Bucks.” Staring in amazement, Liam opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Thirty-five thousand bucks? As in dollars?” “Yeah.” “Thirty-five thousand dollars? For a telescope?” “You’re starting to sound like a parrot.” “But . . . I mean . . . that’s crazy.” “It’s a good telescope. And maybe it’ll be worth having if we’re opening wormholes across the universe.” Liam’s stomach growled. “What time is it? I need breakfast.” “Not until we look at this magic wand you pilfered.” Pulling open the drawer, Liam half expected the alien artifact to have mysteriously disappeared, teleported back to its owner during the night. Yet it was still there, its gleaming silver casing etched with endless, miniature symbols. The device was a little larger than a pen, a little fatter and heavier, and though it narrowed at one end, it had no nib, just a blunt tip. The other end was thicker, the main part of its shaft encircled by a slender ring that could be twisted in either direction. The clickable button on the end was part of what made it so penlike, but it served no obvious purpose. “So you think it opens wormholes?” Ant said, leaning close. Liam held it high, allowing the sunlight to reflect off

its exquisitely ornate and very alien surface. “I wish I had an instruction manual. What do you suppose the dial is for?” The ring clearly had to be twisted a certain way, but the tiny markings were meaningless. The original wand he'd stolen had boasted nine rings. When he pointed this out, Ant said, "Maybe this is a 'lite' version." “What if I just click it?” Liam suggested. “Maybe it’ll open a wormhole to . . . to wherever it’s already set.” “Don’t do it here,” Ant warned. “If you opened a portal and a bunch of aliens came through, I think your mom would have something to say about it.” “Let’s go down to the lake, then. Nice and quiet, away from everybody.” He pocketed the precious device and spent the next five minutes brushing his teeth and persuading his hair to cooperate. His parents had finished breakfast already; his dad was in the living room with a cup of coffee in one hand, watching a TV show about ‘dream’ recreational vehicles that had more gadgets than most people had in their homes. “These are ridiculously expensive,” he commented when he spotted Liam and Ant. “This one costs over a million dollars. That’s crazy! Who would want to drive a million-dollar vehicle along a road and risk an accident?” He shook his head. “I could buy five entire houses with that money. Six or seven houses, maybe. Some people have more money than sense.” “That’s me, sir,” Ant said, grinning. “More money than sense.” Liam’s dad closed his eyes for a second as if realizing what he’d just said. “Sorry, Ant. I didn’t mean you. Well,

maybe I did.” He turned to face him. “I guess your parents wouldn’t think twice about owning something like that, huh? About paying a million dollars for an RV?” “In the eyes of a homeless man, it’s no different than you paying a thousand dollars for that plasma TV, Mr. Mackenzie.” “Hmm. Point taken. I guess it’s all relative.” Liam edged into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, leaving his dad talking to Ant. Those two always got along fine. Ant got along with most people, actually. It was a shame Liam couldn’t strike up similarly meaningful conversation with Ant’s parents. He shuddered at the memory of some of the awkward silences he’d been on the receiving end of. Ant’s mega-rich and aloof parents were so removed from reality that they might as well be extra- terrestrials. No wonder Ant worked so hard to fit into a public school. Liam made three slices of toast in the toaster oven, watching them carefully as they turned brown and, as was often the case, removing them well before the ‘ding.’ He buttered them quickly, then spread on the cream cheese while the butter was still melting. There was an art to cheesy toast, and nobody else ‘got it’ the way he did. His dad always took too long, letting the toast die on the table. It had to be buttered and eaten right out of the toaster, still hot. He pondered this as he finished his third slice and popped open a banana cream pie yogurt. His mom came in at that moment with a frown on her face. “Why do you have a pile of filthy clothes in your room?” Liam froze, and yogurt slopped off his spoon onto the

floor. “Oops,” he said, and ducked down to clean it up with a paper towel while feverishly racking his brain for an excuse. “What clothes?” “The filthy ones. On the floor. In your room.” “Oh, them.” Liam went to the trash to dispose of the paper towel. “Yeah, sorry about that. I meant to put them in the laundry and forgot.” “Why are they so dirty? It looks like you’ve been crawling through tunnels under the ground.” Liam nodded slowly. “Well, there was a hole . . .” His mom rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Liam. Your white Doctor Who shirt? Really? Of all the shirts you could have rolled around on the ground in, you chose a white one?” “Sorry.” “And when did you get so dirty, anyway?” Ant appeared at that moment. He must have been listening because his timing was too perfect otherwise. “Mrs. Mackenzie, I’m thinking about buying you and Mr. Mackenzie a million-dollar RV like the ones on that TV show.” Her mouth dropped open. “What on earth—? Don’t be silly, Ant. I mean, I appreciate the gesture, but there’s no way we’d ever accept such a thing. It’s too much. You’re far too generous, you know. I know your parents are wealthy, but . . .” She went on for a little longer, giving Ant a gentle lecture about how he should curb his enthusiasm for splurging on things most people didn’t even need. Liam slipped away, knowing that Ant would follow shortly. “Going out for a bit, Dad,” he said as he passed through the living room.

“Sure,” his dad muttered, staring at the screen. “Look at that. This one has a giant TV in every room. It’s an RV! What’s the point of TVs in every room? If I owned an RV, I’d camp out by a lake and enjoy the great outdoors, not stay inside watching TV all day. I can watch TV at home. I wouldn’t pay a million dollars for a vehicle like that just to . . .” The rest faded as Liam left the house. Ant came hurrying after him minutes later, and the two headed down the driveway to the lane. Liam patted his pocket and nodded. The wormhole wand was there. Never mind million-dollar RVs. What he owned was absolutely priceless.

Chapter 9

They stood by the lake at the end of the lane. It wasn’t the prettiest spot on the lake, more of a ‘forgotten corner’ as Liam liked to think of it. Surrounded by trees, the water here was calm and mirrorlike, bordering on stagnant around the edges amongst the reeds. Thanks to his grandfather’s last will and testament, Liam had a small boat moored up to a half-rotten jetty. The Weary Traveler was his pride and joy. “So . . . we just click the button?” Ant asked. Liam held the wand high, his thumb poised over the end. “Are you ready?” Ant nodded. When Liam clicked the button, both boys flinched and spun around as though a wormhole had opened above their heads. Yet nothing happened. Liam clicked it again and again, then blew out his cheeks. “It’s a dud.” “Just as I thought,” Ant said, looking relieved. Liam studied the ring. “Maybe we need to spin this around, line it up a certain way.” “So spin it.” Liam did so, feeling it click ever so slightly under his finger and thumb as he twisted it. The ring only spun so far in one direction, and when he turned it in the opposite direction, it halted at almost the same place on the other side of a tiny triangular mark on the wand’s shaft. “See that? It’s definitely a dial. The ring has a ‘low’ and ‘high’ setting.”

“For what, though? Heat? Brightness?” “I don’t know.” “Pitch? Frequency? Size?” “I don’t know. I wish I had some instructions.” Ant paused, thinking. “Range? Speed?” “I don’t know! Right now I wish I had a low setting for volume so I could shut you up.” Liam stared at the alien markings on the shaft and ring. None of it made sense. It had to be a dial to set something—but what? And why did nothing happen when he clicked the button? He sighed. “Well, this was a waste of time. Let’s head back.” They trudged up the lane. Ant demanded to hear all about the wormhole again, the journey to another planet and the cave at the other end. Liam recalled everything in detail. Ant listened intently, absorbing it all. “I want to go next time,” he said finally. Liam felt a surge of pride. Not only had he been the first to use the wormhole, but his friend was now, in a subtle way, admitting that Liam’s reckless journey had actually been pretty cool. It was a shame Madison didn’t feel that way. His heart sank. “She’ll never take us with her.” “Yeah, you really blew it.” “I feel bad about letting her down,” Liam said. “She trusted us with her secret, and I stomped all over it.” “Tell her you’re sorry. I could order Barton to go get some flowers, if you want?” Liam shook his head, then frowned, realizing the limousine wasn’t parked in the lane as it usually was. “Where is Barton, anyway?”

“I sent him home and told him I’d call later.” The boys said nothing as they passed Madison’s driveway. The large mover’s truck was still parked in the gravel horseshoe drive, but the car was missing. One or both of her parents were out, and judging by how quiet everything seemed, Cody probably was too. Madison might be with them, or she could be sulking in her room. Liam was sorely tempted to knock on her door and apologize, try to smooth things over. He’d have to if they ever wanted to travel through a wormhole again. He stopped, torn with indecision. Better to regret something you did than something you didn’t. This was exactly the sort of thing his father’s advice was best applied to. “Okay, I’m gonna do it,” he told Ant. Ant grinned. “I’ll come with you in case she punches your lights out and you need to be dragged home.” Liam’s stomach was flipflopping by the time he reached the front door and tapped lightly. Ant pressed the doorbell. “I don’t think she’s in,” Liam said. “Give her more than two seconds to answer.” They waited, and the seconds clanged by in Liam’s head. He’d reached eleven when he heard soft footfalls inside the house and glimpsed movement through the small frosted panes. Madison wrenched the door open and stared at him, frowning. Her expression indicated she was more puzzled than angry. “What?” Liam couldn’t help noticing her pink pajamas. Pink! He never would have pegged her for pink. She had no black eyeliner on, nor lipstick, and her hair was straggly.

“Uh . . . sorry, did I wake you?” Her frown deepened. “It’s after ten. You think I’m the type who lies around in bed all day?” “Well, no, it’s just . . . you look like . . .” “Look like what?” Ant turned away. “Loser,” he murmured. Liam felt his face heating up. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he finally managed, the words tumbling out. “I shouldn’t have gone through the—well, you know. Not without asking, I mean. You let us in on your secret and I messed up. I’m sorry.” He paused there, waiting for some sort of reaction. She stared at him a while longer, pursed her lips, looked off into the distance, looked back at him, glanced at Ant, then sighed. “And now what? You want me to forgive you and invite you along to the next event so you can mess up again?” “No. I mean, yes, I want you to forgive me. But no to the rest. Well, except the bit about being invited along to the next event. I want that as well. But no to the last bit about messing up.” “Loser,” Ant murmured again. Madison folded her arms. “And you promise not to go leaping into gateways without me?” A ray of hope shone down. “I promise,” Liam agreed. “Wait, what?” Ant said, spinning around. “Without you? Does that mean you want to leap into one as well?” She looked away. “I didn’t say that. But . . . maybe.” Liam and Ant shared an openly happy look. Madison rolled her eyes and pulled the door open. “Go sit. I’ll be down in a minute.” She left them to find their way past stacks of boxes

into the living room as she marched to the staircase and hurried up. Liam found the sofa and parked himself in it while Ant wandered about the room reading labels on the sides of boxes. “They have a lot of unpacking to do,” he said. Liam shrugged. “They only moved in yesterday. I reckon most of these boxes are Cody’s toys. I carried most off the truck and to the doorstep.” “Not inside?” “No, Dad brought them inside.” “So this is your first time in Madison’s living room?” Ant asked, a smile on his face. Liam frowned. “I’ve been here lots of times. An old lady lived here before. She died about six months ago. I think her and my old granddad had a thing going.” “Right, but this is Madison’s house now. New ownership. This is where a pretty girl lives, my friend, maybe one of the prettiest in school when she starts there tomorrow—and you’re in her living room.” Ant winked and grinned. “What are you getting at? No, don’t even bother. Just be quiet before she hears you.” “Something to brag about at school though, right? When all the football players are crowding around her, and she’s warding them off, you can casually tell her out loud that you’ll pop over to her house later. You might suddenly make a bunch of new friends.” Liam stared at him. “You’re weird. You think I want friends like that? Ones who want to use me to ask Madison out on a date? I’ll stick with the friends I have, thanks.” “Me, you mean?”

Before Liam could come up with a suitable retort, Madison came thumping down the stairs. Now she was dressed in black again—slightly different clothes, same color. She’d even thrown on some black eyeliner and lipstick. Liam was amazed. As far as he knew, it wasn’t possible for girls to dress that quickly. “Did you stop time?” he asked her. “Or do you have a twin?” She looked mystified. “Huh?” “Never mind. What’s that?” Liam pointed at the book in her hand. Madison threw herself onto the sofa next to Liam and waved for Ant to join them. “This is my journal. When I first started sleep writing, I just stacked the messages in a drawer. Then I bought a journal and copied them into it. I keep it updated and add notes as I go along. See? Each page is an event.” She flipped through it. Her neat, large handwriting covered the first few pages. Liam desperately wanted to snatch the journal from her hands and read every word. “I’ve got eleven messages so far,” Madison said. “Twelve if you include this.” She pulled out a folded sheet from the back of the book. “It isn’t like the rest. It . . . well, look for yourself.” She spread the paper open. Liam and Ant leaned in to read it. Trust the boy next door. Liam felt an odd chill. “Whoa. Is that . . . is that supposed to be me? But—” “Weird, right?” Madison said, folding the paper and slipping it back into place. “I wrote it a few days before I moved to Brockridge. Didn’t make sense at the time, but it

did once I got here.” She gazed sideways at him. “That’s why I let you in on my secret, Liam. My messages have been accurate so far. I just hope it wasn’t bad advice.” “It wasn’t,” he whispered. “It probably was,” Ant countered. She resumed her task of flipping through the book. “Anyway, the rest of the messages follow a pattern: a time and a place. Here’s the cemetery message.” She showed them the entry: 2:11 AM. Cemetery. Judith E. Chambers. Underneath she’d written the exact date of the event and a description: Three short people with stumpy legs and arms, wearing animal furs. Like alien cavemen only with futuristic gadgets. They all had meters of some sort, maybe to test radiation levels. One had a machine that blasted dirt out of a grave. I’m calling them Rock Dwarves. The new neighbor, Liam, crossed over and returned with alien artifact. Confronted by dwarves and made to swap with different artifact. First contact with people from gateway! Liam read her entry with a growing sense of joy. There was that pride again! Now it was not just Ant who envied him but Madison as well. At least, that was how he saw it. The entry was brief, but Madison’s writing was quite large, and there was no more space on the small page. “Can I see the other pages?” Liam asked. She nodded, but instead of handing the journal to him, she turned to the beginning and thumbed through one at a time, slow enough for Liam and Ant to catch bits and pieces:

4:38 AM. Gosford Park. Behind Restrooms. Five really tall women in spacesuits. They looked human but had pale blue skin and long white hair. Called them Hissy Elves because they spent the entire time arguing— And: 12:02 AM. Jamieson Hwy. North end. Third tree on left. Fifteen ugly green-skinned creatures with tentacles hanging off their chins. No clothes—gross!—just bits of metal armor. Called them Squidheads. They ran around setting up some sort of framework, then rigged a machine in the middle and— And: 10:11 PM. First Baptist Church. Inside. Couldn’t see much of this one. Peered through windows, saw lights shining, nothing much else. News reports of vandalism the next day. Called these ones Ruiners. “Wait,” Liam said, reaching out and gripping her wrist before she turn the page again. He quickly let go. “What about calling them Vandals? Since they vandalized the place?” Madison continued turning pages. “The Vandals were Germanic people who helped bring down Rome about fifteen hundred years ago. That’s where the word ‘vandalism’ comes from—because they destroyed everything.” “Right, well, this bunch of aliens vandalized the church. Vandals is a perfect name for them.” “It’s not fair to keep perpetuating the myth that the poor Vandals destroyed everything they saw. Anyway, I already wrote Ruiners.” 5:34 AM. Blue Holt Lane. Cow field. Hard to predict where in the field this event would occur but easy to spot

when it happened. Lots of thin, large-headed children running around with a taller adult watching them. Field trip? I called them Greys because they looked like the classic flying saucer aliens from Roswell in Nevada. Liam grinned at that one. Madison was as much a nerd as he was, if not more so. A history buff and an alien encounter nut. Perfect. She flipped through the rest of the pages too fast for Liam to keep up, but he saw that each entry had an exact date spaced about a week apart and leading up to the previous night’s event. Eleven events over the past two months, so a little more than one a week. The second-to- last entry read: 11:58 PM. Backyard. Behind garage. Tall, thin, two legs, four arms. Horrible. Called them Stick Insects. Worried they showed up so close to the house. Are they onto me? Have they detected that I watch these events? Ant voiced Liam’s concern. “They showed up outside your house? Seriously?” Madison nodded and closed her journal. “That was last weekend. Very creepy. I was actually glad to move. Couldn’t have come at a better time.” “But they moved with you,” Ant said, frowning. “Different aliens but still aliens. They opened a wormhole in the cemetery in the woods nearby.” “Ah, but you have to understand that these events probably happen everywhere, all the time, maybe dozens a night or more. Statistically, what are the chances of so many happening near my house unless there are literally thousands of events every night all over the world?” She looked sideways from Ant to Liam. Neither of them answered her.

“See?” she went on. “This isn’t all of them. I just happen to be aware of some of them, the ones close to my house.” “But why?” Liam asked. “How?” “Don’t know. What I do know is that I wrote another message in my sleep last night after we got back.”

Chapter 10

As Liam and Ant gasped in unison at Madison’s announcement, she opened the journal at the very back where a folded piece paper was tucked. She held it gingerly as if it might bite. “Two messages in two nights,” she whispered. “That’s never happened before. The very first event— Gosford Park—was about two miles from my house back where I lived up north. They've gotten a little closer each time. Then they appeared in my backyard.” She took a deep breath, and Liam noticed her hand was shaking as she held the message aloft. “Luckily I moved to a new house. I was disappointed about leaving all this behind, but on the other hand . . . showing up in the backyard was a little too personal for my liking. Anyway, the night before we left, I wrote myself a new message—the Judith E. Chambers one—and just knew it would be a cemetery down here near my new house. And it was.” “So what’s this new message?” Ant pressed. She unfolded it. Liam leaned closer, so intent on the message that he was only barely aware his shoulder was touching hers. Unlike the carefully printed journal entries, this lettering was a little rough and much larger, scrawled in pencil on the same lined paper as the last one. It was a much shorter message than all the others in the journal: 2:34 PM. Lake.

Liam felt a chill. To anybody else, the location was vague. Which lake? And lakes were usually huge by definition. But Liam knew immediately the message was referring to the end of the lane where his boat was moored. Or at least that was where they would start looking. Perhaps the event would occur out on the water, but in any case it would be visible from the end of the lane. “Wait—2:34 PM?” Ant said, tapping the paper. “As in this afternoon?” Madison placed the message on top of her journal in her lap and smoothed it out. “That’s what I wrote. Seems like they know it’s safer at night when everybody’s in bed. But they’ll show up in the daytime if the place is remote enough.” “That suggests they scope the place out beforehand,” Ant said, frowning. “So . . . what, they’re not random?” “Don’t know.” Liam glanced around the room and couldn’t find any wall clocks—nor any picture frames for that matter, just lightened outlines where frames had once hung. He pulled out his phone. “It’s not even eleven yet. We’ve got ages to wait.” Madison passed the journal and message to Liam and hoisted herself out of the sofa. “Let’s watch a movie. I have the perfect choice.”

* * *

When Close Encounters of the Third Kind started, Madison grinned and settled back on the sofa. “I’ve heard this is good.”

Liam swung around. “You haven’t seen it? My dad watches this every time it shows. He says the UFOs are awesome.” “I don’t watch many sci-fi movies. I like horror.” She’d taken up one end of the sofa, leaving Ant with the other. Liam sprawled in an armchair, a little envious that his friend was closer to Madison. At the moment, though, he was more perturbed by the feeble TV. He didn’t like to say so, but Madison’s parents needed an upgrade. This old picture-tube TV couldn’t be more than thirty inches, and it was square. Pathetic. He yearned for the plasma in his own living room. For the first twenty minutes, Liam thought of nothing but wormholes. He still clutched Madison’s journal and had worked through each page, soaking up every detail. Each event brought a different type of extra-terrestrial species, and she’d named them appropriately based on their description. Until now he’d assumed they were entirely unrelated. After all, how many intelligent beings could there be on one planet? These aliens must come from far and wide, stopping by Earth the way they might stop by thousands of other planets across the universe. But, though they differed in physiology, they all had one thing in common: the technology to open wormholes, possibly the exact same silver, penlike wands. He frowned. Maybe he was wrong. It was true that all these different aliens came through similar wormholes that remained stable for the same amount of time before collapsing, but that didn’t mean the visitors used the same technology to open them in the first place. Where the so- called Rock Dwarves had used a penlike wand near Judith

E. Chambers’ grave, the Greys and Ruiners and Stick Insects might have used something else entirely. Still, they shared the technical knowledge. The universe was in cahoots. Maybe Earth was just backward in comparison, not up to speed with their cosmic neighbors—a little like explorers from the United States, Europe or China sneaking around the woods studying primitive cultures in the heart of the Peruvian jungle. The inhabitants were advanced enough to learn the ways of the civilized world; they just lacked the knowledge right now, and visitors arriving in helicopters carrying electronic instruments would be quite shocking to them. So were Earth people just lagging behind? They’d made it into space and set foot on the moon, even had small robots on Mars, but that was about all. Did the secret to opening wormholes come after many centuries of self-learning? Or was it shared by other beings when the time was right? Liam stared at the TV screen, only barely registering that the main character, Roy, was sitting in his truck at an intersection reading a map while a UFO was approaching from behind. The lights were dazzling but looked like another cars’ headlights. Roy impatiently waved the car past, intent on his map, and after a few seconds the lights lifted into the sky. He loved the next scene where the entire intersection was flooded with brilliant light and everything in Roy’s cab went haywire, flying around while he rose up out of his seat. “That would freak me out!” Madison exclaimed. Liam glanced across at Ant. It looked like his friend was lost in thought too. Both had seen the movie before

and were only partially watching. It was hard to focus when they had real-life aliens of their own to think about.

* * *

“They were Greys,” Madison said as the credits rolled. “Those weird, bug-eyed aliens weren’t far off what I saw in the cow field. How weird is that?” “Probably not all that weird,” Liam said, stretching. “There are more reports of Greys than any other type of alien. Maybe they visit a whole lot more than other kinds.” “Like Roswell in 1947,” Madison agreed. “Only they crash-landed in a spaceship instead of using a gateway.” “A wormhole,” Liam said. “Let’s call them wormholes.” “Why? I was here first, and I call them gateways.” “Wormhole is better.” “In your opinion, maybe,” Madison retorted. “Gateway has a little more mystique about it.” “I like wormhole too,” Ant said. Madison rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine. But my point is, the Roswell aliens came down in a spaceship.” “They still might have come through a wormhole,” Liam said. “Maybe a wormhole in space? A really big one to fit their ships through. Are the wormholes normally the same size, or do they vary?” “They vary, but not by much. It’s a thought, though. Or maybe they traveled here the normal way by spaceship and put themselves in orbit, then used wormholes to beam themselves down to the surface.” Liam nodded slowly. “Good thinking. If so, they’re using a cloaking device to avoid detection. But does that

mean all the aliens are out there in space, floating around in ships that we can’t see? Beaming themselves down?” “I don’t know, Liam.” “And how come I ended up in a cave when I went through the wormhole at the cemetery?” “I don’t know.” Ant stood and pulled out his phone. “I think we should have a quick bite to eat and wander down to the lake. Or take food with us and have a boat picnic.” With a plan in mind, the three hurried to the kitchen and made sandwiches. They packed them and bags of chips into a cooler box on wheels and grabbed a few soft drinks as well. Then they set off, Liam struggling with the cooler down the gravel driveway. It was easier going once they reached the lane and turned right. They walked in silence, and Liam knew they were each thinking about the forthcoming event. Halfway to the lake, he broke the silence with a question that was playing on his mind. “So . . . are we planning to sneak into this wormhole?” “I was wondering that too,” Ant said, sounding relieved. “I mean, I want to, but . . . well, it’s risky.” Madison shook her head. “I don’t think we can plan on anything until we see what the deal is. If there are twenty mean-looking monsters standing around, obviously we shouldn’t attempt anything. But if it’s another class of harmless children and they’re swimming at the other end of the lake, well . . .” “See how it goes, then,” Liam agreed. “But I’m still not sure,” Madison said. “What if we get stuck somewhere? Shouldn’t we tell someone before we do anything?”

“What good would that do?” Ant argued. “Even if I phoned Barton right now and said, ‘Hey, we’re popping through a wormhole and wanted to let you know in case it goes wrong,’ it wouldn’t change anything. He wouldn’t be able to rescue us if he tried. We’d just have to figure it out.” The lake glimmered ahead. “We must be out of our minds,” Madison muttered. Liam fought to hide his grin. She’d gotten the bug. Now that he’d been through and back—safely—she was desperate to try it as well. The risk was enormous, but the reward was worth it. Or seemed to be. What would happen if they actually got stuck on some alien planet? They would be completely at the mercy of whatever bizarre creatures lived there. On the other hand, another thing these visitors had in common was a level of intelligence and civility. They weren’t coming through with death-rays blazing and total human annihilation on their agenda. Instead, they were poking around and making notes. They were civilized. One might even say friendly. Liam felt a weight lifting. Yes, it would be fine. Even if they got trapped on another world, he felt sure they’d be able to negotiate their way home again. “Well, here we are,” Ant said quietly as they trudged to a stop at the end of the road. “We have twenty minutes to wait. Then it’s show time.”

Chapter 11

The jetty had seen better days. Almost hidden among tall reeds, it was grey with age and horribly warped. Liam stayed on the left because some of the boards were rotten. They bent under his weight and moved beneath the rusted bolts on the right-hand side, giving the impression that nothing was fixed down at all. One plank had broken away, and he stepped over it and turned to wiggle the cooler box past the gap. “Okay, I’m definitely hiring some labor to fix this up,” Ant said from behind him. “We’ll start over.” “My granddad built this,” Liam said fiercely. “It’s staying.” “Your granddad would turn in his grave if he knew you were risking your life every time you got in your boat.” “What’s the worst that could happen? I fall through and get wet?” “Eww,” Madison said from the rear. “This water’s green.” “It’s a bit smelly near the bank,” Liam admitted. “Nice farther out, though.” The reeds continued beyond the end of the jetty a little way, then thinned to reveal cleaner, rippling water. Liam’s boat, The Weary Traveler, listed as he stepped in and took his place at the bow. Ant retracted the cooler’s handle and passed the box down into the boat, and Liam hauled it into a better position as Ant climbed in after it. Madison came

last with a look on her face that suggested this wasn’t such a great idea. After Ant untied the rope, Liam started rowing. He loved this. The feeling of being in control of his own little boat-shaped world in the middle of a gigantic lake . . . Once again he mentally thanked his granddad for the gift as he rowed away from the jetty and out to the middle of this small section of the lake. Brockridge Lake was three miles in length though only half a mile across. It had numerous offshoots, tiny hidden pockets of still water surrounded by trees so that each was like a miniature lake in its own right. This was one of those offshoots. “How are we going to leap into a wormhole when we’re in a boat?” Ant said when Liam stopped rowing. “In fact, how are we going to hide?” “We’ll figure it out,” Liam said. “Let’s eat.” They munched on sandwiches. Liam was pleased to see Madison ate like a champion, wolfing hers faster than any of them before starting on the chips. Most of the girls at school pecked at their food like birds. After a while, Ant finished and brushed his hands off. “I suppose we don’t have to hide. I mean, they might be friendly. What would they do if they saw us watching them? Abort the mission? Or just carry on?” “I don’t know,” Madison said, sounding like she was tired of all the questions today. “I’ve always hidden.” “You haven’t really done a lot with your magic powers, have you?” Ant teased. “All you’ve done is watched.” “Observed,” Madison corrected him. “Made notes. It’s what most responsible adults would do initially. Leaping

into a gateway—sorry, wormhole—without thinking is not high on my list.” “I did think,” Liam argued. “I thought, ‘What if I die horribly doing this?’ But I threw myself into the wormhole anyway.” “That’s worse.” With every passing minute, the three of them grew more nervous. Madison frowned fiercely, looking around in anticipation. “I don’t normally wait in plain sight like this. We should be hiding in the bushes or something.” “Relax,” Ant told her. “We’re in a boat. They won’t have one, so unless they plan on getting wet, they won’t bother approaching us.” “Expert now, are we?” When Liam’s phone displayed 2:34 PM, he counted aloud to twelve before halting with his lips formed around ‘thirteen.’ The wormhole appeared, a vertical slit of light that expanded into a perfect circle of light and grew to about five feet in diameter. Then it dimmed slightly. As before, reality within the disk plunged into an abyss, a tunnel forming. It began to swirl, and as it did so, the flickering light steadied. The wormhole had arrived. It hovered no more than a few inches over the water, about fifty feet from where Liam, Ant and Madison sat in the boat watching and waiting, absolutely still. Finally, Ant broke the silence. “I wonder if—” Something came through the wormhole. It was a giant bug of some sort, easily the length of Liam’s arm and twice as thick, bright red in color with six long, dangling black legs and an equally black head. The wings were a blur.

It zipped from one place to another, zigzagging low over the water, stopping, then rotating sideways before zipping off again. It seemed to be looking for something. Or checking the place out. “I don’t like that at all,” Madison whispered, gripping Liam’s arm. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s a bug. How can a bug open a wormhole? It doesn’t make sense.” The giant insect spotted them and came shooting closer. Madison let out a cry, and Ant yelled, falling backward into the boat. Liam instinctively grabbed an oar and swung at the creature even though it was well out of his range. The bug paused, hovering perfectly still in the air, its wings humming softly. Its black head shone in the afternoon sun, its eyes bulbous and glinting. “Row, row,” Ant said hoarsely. “Liam, row.” Liam fumbled with the oars while keeping a close eye on the hideous wasplike bug. It continued to stare, remaining absolutely still in the air, only its wings in motion. Abruptly, before Liam had managed to get his oars into the water, the bug turned and shot away, heading straight back toward the wormhole. It zipped into the swirling tunnel and disappeared. Stunned, Liam and his friends watched as the wormhole shimmered and broke apart. In seconds, it was gone, leaving only a few sparkles of light like early- evening fireflies. “Well,” Ant said. “Well,” Madison repeated.

Liam let out a shuddering sigh. “Okay, I have to admit, that thing gave me the heebie-jeebies.” “It was horrible,” Madison agreed. “But it can’t have been anything more than a . . . than a scout. I refuse to believe big red insects are capable of creating wormholes.” “A scout,” Liam said. “Yeah. That must be it. Maybe it had cameras attached to its body. Or maybe it was a robot. But yeah, it had to be a scout. It sure acted like one, scoping the place out like that. As soon as it saw us, off it went, taking the wormhole with it. Its masters back home must have seen us and decided to come back another day.” He felt better after letting his thoughts rush out in a babble of words. On the other hand, he couldn’t easily ignore the disappointment. “I guess that’s it for today,” he said, beginning to row back to the shore. “No wormhole hopping for us.” “Maybe next time,” Ant said. Liam couldn’t help noticing how relieved his friend sounded.

* * *

They returned home to find a car in Madison’s driveway. Her parents were home, and Cody was protesting about something, his shrill voice carrying out of the windows and down the driveway. Madison grimaced and stopped. “Okay, I’m warning you now that we won’t get a moment’s peace from the boy. He’ll accost us as soon as we walk in and won’t let up. You’ll be asked to play with every single toy he owns.”

“Well, let’s go to my place then,” Liam said. “See if we can figure out how to work the wormhole wand.” Ant chuckled. “Work the wormhole wand. Try saying that three times fast.” As they retraced their steps down Madison's driveway to the lane, Liam heard the sound of a motor and saw the tip of trimming blades over the hedge as clumps of leaves flew up. His dad was out, which probably meant Mom had complained. She was right, though. The neat, square shape of the hedge was by now little more than a suggestion beneath the extra three-week growth. Liam called out to him as he took his friends up his own driveway. “Hey, Dad—you missed a bit.” His dad swung around and offered a wide-eyed maniacal look while raising the hedge trimmer. He revved it hard, causing blue-grey smoke to belch from its side. “Come over here and say that.” Liam shared a laugh with Madison. Ant shook his head. “Must be nice to have a dad who gets outside and actually does stuff around the yard. The only thing my dad lifts is a wad of money to pay the landscaping contractors.” “Well,” Liam said doubtfully, “my dad doesn’t do stuff very often. He’d love to hire landscapers. Maybe you can send yours over, Ant.” “Will do, buddy.” The thing was, Ant would happily do just that if Liam’s parents would allow it. But of course they wouldn’t. “Hey,” his dad called. “I was thinking about cutting a hole through the hedge. Right here, about halfway along, where the last one was.”

Liam remembered his granddad would slip through the tiny gap when visiting the old lady next door. The gap was all but gone now though, the hedge quickly filling it in through willful neglect. “Sounds good to me,” Liam said. He glanced at Madison. “It’ll save us walking all the way around.” Madison grinned. “A sign of friendship.” “I’ll put a proper gate in and everything,” Liam’s dad said. “I don’t want to overstep my bounds. And Madison, if you decide those boys are too much trouble and want to keep them out, you can just padlock the gate. Agreed?” She laughed, and they continued on to the house, leaving Liam’s dad to launch into the hedge with wild abandon and plenty of smoke. When they walked inside, Liam suddenly realized the flaw in his plan. What was he thinking, inviting Madison in? To talk about the wormhole wand would mean talking in private—and that meant going to his room. No way, he thought, faltering in the lobby as he tried to recall the state of his room. Unless his mom had picked up after him, he probably had dirty underwear and socks strewn across the floor. And suddenly he was embarrassed about his Frodo sword. Collector’s item or not, she’d think he was a nerd, or worse, a child with a toy. “Uh . . .” he said, turning to face his friends. “You stay here a minute. I need to tidy up a bit.” Madison smiled. “I understand. Gotta open the windows to let the smell out. And hide the dirty underwear.” He stared at her. Had she read his mind?

Chapter 12

Leaving his friends to peer at the picture frames on the wall, he tore around his room collecting up things he didn’t want Madison to see. The laundry wasn’t so bad, and he stuffed it all tightly into the basket in his closet and closed the door, then straightened up a few things and opened the window. He didn’t think his room smelled, but she was a girl and might notice if it did. He looked around. His love of The Lord of the Rings showed in the posters on the wall as well as the gleaming Frodo sword standing near the head of the bed. Should he hide it all? Or just go with it? If he took down his posters, the walls would be conspicuously bare and he’d look like he was trying too hard to impress a girl. Maybe she wouldn’t notice, but Ant would. Liam sighed and left the posters alone. They were who he was, after all. Taking a deep breath, he sauntered back to where his friends waited. They’d moved into the living room by now and were talking to his mom. “All clear?” Madison asked, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing to tidy, as it happens,” he said. “I opened the window but only because it was hot in there.” “Right.” His mom rolled her eyes. “Madison, you’re very brave.” The three of them trudged into Liam’s room. There was an awkward moment where Madison stopped and turned in a circle, taking everything in while Ant stood to

one side grinning with anticipation. Liam tried to act nonchalant and sidled over to the chest of drawers where he’d put the wormhole wand. “Cool sword,” Madison said. “I never saw the movies. Not my thing. I have vampires all over my walls.” Liam turned to her, an intense feeling of gratitude washing over him. “Which ones?” “All the hot ones,” she murmured. “Oh. Right.” Ant looked amazed. “So you don’t think he’s a weird geeky nerdazoid loser?” Madison sat on the side of the bed and reached for the sword, not to pick up but to run her fingers down the intricately carved hilt. “Of course I do. Which is great, because I am too. Only with vampires rather than Middle- earth.” She challenged Ant with a stare. “What’s your room like? What do you hang on your walls?” Ant blew out a breath, his shoulders slumping. “Nerd stuff, I suppose. I like alternative nineteenth-century history like space rockets in the British Victorian era and mechanical monsters in the American Wild West. Jules Verne, that sort of thing. Steam machines.” After a few seconds, Madison smiled and nodded. “Looks like I finally fit in. So between the three of us, we’re experts on vampires and horror, steampunk, science fiction, and fantasy. What a team!” Liam pulled up a beanbag and slumped into it a couple of feet in front of her. He held up the wand. “So if we’re experts, we should be able to figure this thing out, right?” Ant sat next to Madison, and the three of them peered intently at the silver device.

“And you’ve tried clicking the end?” she said. “Turning the dial?” “Nothing happens,” Liam told her. “It could just be a dud.” “Maybe it needs power,” Ant offered. Liam opened his mouth to retort, then froze. He stared blankly at the window, thinking back to when he had traveled through the wormhole and stolen the device—the other device. It had stood upright on a tripod, and underneath was a cylinder. A battery pack? When he’d ripped the wand from the tripod, had he cut off its power supply? He sighed and shook his head. “I’m an idiot. I’ll bet that’s it. It needs power.” The bottom end of the wand was blunt, no hole to insert a plug into, no jack of any kind. Still, some mobile phones these days—basic Earth technology—could recharge simply by lying on a special kind of power supply. It wasn’t a stretch to assume alien technology just needed to be in proximity of a power source. But what kind of power? How much power? He rummaged around in his drawer and brought out his flashlight. When he unscrewed the end and allowed the batteries to drop out into his hand, Ant grinned. “Really? AA batteries?” “Got any better ideas?” Liam challenged. “Yeah, actually. Lots of better ideas.” Liam ignored him and touched the end of the wand to one of the batteries. To his surprise, he felt the slightest of tingles as something flickered deep within the wand. Wide-eyed, he glanced at Ant and Madison. “I felt something.”

Madison frowned. “Like what?” Liam touched the battery to the end of the wand again, but this time nothing happened. He grabbed the second battery and tried that instead, and this time he felt the same momentary tingle. “We need more power,” Liam said. Just to double-check his theory, he slid the two batteries back into the flashlight and switched it on. The bulb remained out. “See? Totally drained in an instant.” Ant stood. “We need more power.” “That’s what I said.” They put their heads together to figure out a bigger source of safe power. There were larger batteries, of course, and Madison suggested they try the 12-volt battery in someone’s car or perhaps her uncle’s truck that was still parked in her drive. “It won’t be needed until next weekend,” she said. “Dad will just assume he left the lights on or something and will recharge it.” “We can’t just go out there in the middle of the day in full view,” Liam said. “I’m pretty sure one of our dads will be suspicious if he sees us all with our heads under the hood.” “What’s wrong with using electrical power?” Ant said. “There are tons of outlets in the wall.” Liam latched onto that idea, but Madison spread her hands. “Uh—we might get fried?” They pondered the idea. It really was tempting to tap into unlimited power and fire the wand up. Then again, electricity wasn’t necessarily unlimited. What if they drained too much? The electricity bill would skyrocket. Batteries would be safer, at least initially.

“I can easily buy a generator,” Ant mused. “I could call Barton, and he could take us to the hardware store. A generator uses gas, but it’s unlimited power as long as we have plenty of spare gas—and it’s not connected to the electricity grid, so we won’t have to worry about causing a blackout in town.” “That’s pretty smart,” Madison said, giving him a light punch on the arm. “Sounds good to me.” “Okay,” Liam said, “but I can’t wait that long. Go ahead and call him, Ant, while I try something else.” Ant fished his phone out of his pocket and started jabbing at buttons. Madison frowned as Liam gave her a quick grin and hurried from the room, taking the wand with him. His mom was standing at the back door off the kitchen, staring out the window. Outside, the trimmer roared, and when Liam stopped to peer over his mom’s shoulder, he saw the beginnings of a gate in the hedgerow. Liam grinned and headed straight for his dad’s garage using the internal door in the short hallway off the kitchen. The large external garage door was rolled up, and the smell of hedge trimmer fumes drifted in from outside. His dad was really working that thing! The cordless drill had an 18-volt battery and inbuilt charger. It was always plugged in. Liam pulled the cord out, then unclipped the battery and hefted it. There has to be a good amount of power in this baby, he thought. And it won’t matter if I drain it. In fact there were two batteries. The other, for the cordless weed eater, was clipped to a separate charger. His dad had made sure the weed eater was the same brand as the drill so that he could interchange the batteries as

needed. Two fully charged 18-volt batteries for whichever tool he was using at the time. Liam considered taking the batteries back to his room to share the experiment with his friends. But if he was going to run the risk of bumping into his mother in the kitchen while carrying these babies, he wanted to make sure it was worth the effort. He turned one of the batteries upside down on the workbench. Its positive and negative elements were spaced apart, but the wand had drawn power from the flashlight’s double-A batteries simply by touching the wand to the positive end . . . Gingerly, he held his breath and lowered the wand onto the flat positive terminal. The moment it touched, a gentle tingle shot up his hand. The wand lit up with fine blue illumination around the dial, and as he stared in delight, the dial began to turn. Slowly, it spun and stopped. The clickable button lit up green. Intrigued, he twisted the dial all the way to the left. It didn’t go far. If the dial had been numbered zero to ten, it had set itself somewhere between the one and two, and he had just turned it all the way down to zero. He didn’t know what it meant, but whenever he put earphones on, he always set the volume to low and turned it up carefully to avoid deafening himself. Likewise, he figured it was safest to start the dial at zero and go from there. Before he could stop himself, Liam mashed the greenlit button with his thumb. He knew it was foolish even as he did it, but something drove him, something deep down inside, a strange certainty that he needed to do this.

With a mixture of thrilled anticipation and terror, he half expected a portal to appear before him, right here in the garage where his dad could walk in at any moment and see it. Instead, the garage abruptly disappeared and Liam found himself somewhere entirely different.

Chapter 13

Shocked, Liam staggered to a safe corner as nurses brushed past him. Or through him. He felt insubstantial and had to fight for purchase on the smooth floor. He was in a hospital room, and the commotion told him something was happening to the patient on the bed. He remained in his corner at the head end of the bed, trying to get a look at the woman who had her head tilted back and was screaming. Three nurses stood around her, and a doctor, and— He blinked. His dad was there. He looked different, younger, less grey in his hair. He was on the far side of the bed, leaning over the wailing woman. He looked scared but at the same time had a smile on his face. “Push!” the white-coated female doctor urged. “One more push and he’s out.” Liam quailed. The nurses, the doctor, his dad—and the woman on the bed, his own mother—

* * *

With a jolt, he was back in the garage, stumbling away from the workbench with the wand gripped in his hand, its lights now dimmed. He stood there sweating and shaking, trying to comprehend what had happened. He knew what he’d seen. He just didn’t know why. His own birth. He’d witnessed his own birth. Or had been about to, anyway. “One more push,” the doctor had

said. The baby—Liam!—had been on his way into the world. He stood thinking for a while, sweat cooling on his forehead and his hands steadying as he held the wand aloft, staring at the dial. He had a hunch what the dial was for, though how it worked was beyond him. And why? What was it for? What kind of device showed him memories he couldn’t possibly have? The sound of the hedge trimmer told him his dad was still outside working. He heard his mom’s voice too. Liam knew he was safe for a bit longer. There was time to try again. He returned to the workbench and touched the wand to the battery terminal. The lights on the wand illuminated but died almost immediately. Liam pushed the dead battery aside and flipped the second one over. Now he had a good sense how long it would last, which wasn’t long. But these batteries could easily be recharged, and all without his dad’s knowledge as long as there was no drilling or weed eating to be done. When he touched the wand to the fresh battery, it again lit up. After a second or two, the dial slowly moved to what Liam guessed was its startup position, somewhere between where the numbers one and two would be. He left the dial alone and clicked the greenlit button. This time the garage remained in place, but he felt himself shift sideways, propelled away from the workbench. Again he felt insubstantial, a little like he was floating. And again, he was not alone anymore. Someone was in the garage with him, a boy who looked exactly like himself and stood next to the workbench gripping the same wand and holding it against the battery terminal.

Liam was staring at himself. An out-of-body experience. The moment he realized this, he gasped in shock. The other version of him—the real, flesh-and-blood version, his own soulless body—did the exact same thing and jerked backward, releasing the wand from the battery. Then, as the wand’s power died, Ghost-Liam found himself yanked back into his body. Back in front of the bench, he stood gasping with the wand in his hand, looking around wildly. “Th-that was a trip,” he stammered. He collapsed onto an upturned bucket and tried to control his shaking hands. This was wild. And it only partially made sense. The wand wasn’t opening wormholes at all. Instead, it was—what? Allowing him to astral project? Initially he’d assumed he was having a vision, a memory of his birth even though a memory that vivid and realistic was impossible for a baby in the throes of being born. Now, after meeting himself face to face in the present, he understood the wand had actually sent him back in time to his birth. The dial made sense now. With something like a zero- to-ten range, zero was his birth, ten his death. He was twelve years old, and the dial’s startup position between one and two represented now. Perhaps a more logical way to think about the dial would be to imagine it marked with all the years of his life. On power-up, it started at twelve. That meant the dial must go up to— He frowned at that. What did it go up to? He hoped it went to ninety or so. He hoped he passed away peacefully

in his sleep at a ripe old age. Judging from the dial’s startup position, which indicated the present, he had quite a long life ahead of him. He could probably measure the gap between zero and twelve and break it equally into units that represented years, then extrapolate and measure the amount of years he had left before he died. Or he could power the wand up and leap forward in time. He could see for himself, actually witness the moment he was due to leave this world the way he’d witnessed entering it. “Holy cow,” he said aloud. He stared at the wand with awe, then at the upturned battery. It most likely had some juice left in it. He could go forward and see what kind of old age he would have, where he lived, who he lived with, and how he died. But why would anyone in their right mind do that? He slipped the wand into his pocket and, hands shaking, plugged the batteries back into their chargers. He was done for now. He’d take another look later. As he headed back through the house, it occurred to him that Ant and Madison were probably wondering where he’d gotten to.

* * *

When he’d finished explaining everything, they glared at him with their mouths gaping as if he’d shown them something hideous. “Why didn’t you wait for us?” Ant demanded. “Sorry. I just . . . well, I just thought I’d better have a quick go right there in the garage rather than steal my dad’s batteries.”

Madison looked skeptical. “Astral projection?” Liam shrugged. “I’m not sure I’d call it astral projection. Can you astral project through time? I don’t know much about it. But I did feel like a ghost. Nobody in the hospital could see me, and I felt like I was . . . well, invisible. So I guess it’s sort of like astral projecting.” “Only through time,” she murmured. “And space,” Ant said suddenly. Liam shook his head. “Not space. It’s not like I was out there among the stars.” “No, I don’t mean literally deep space. I mean space—as in distance. You didn’t just travel in time, you traveled in space to wherever your physical body was at that precise time. The hospital back when you were born—the garage—and probably the cemetery if you’d popped into the future to witness your death.” “You think I’m going to croak in the cemetery?” Ant reconsidered. “Well, no. I guess you’ll die in your sleep or something, so if you went forward in time, you’d be standing in the darkest corner of your bedroom watching as you lie there in bed taking your last breath.” Madison swiped at him. “That’s creepy.” “Or, if you had a heart attack while in town or something, you’d be standing around like a ghost while people rushed to help.” “All right, all right,” Liam said. “Enough. Stop trying to guess how I’m going to die. That’s something I’m not really interested in. Okay?” “I’m definitely getting that generator,” Ant said, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve already asked Barton to pick one up from the store. He’s a good man. He won’t ask questions. He’ll just get one and stash it in the trunk of

the limo. We can try it out later.” “I’m not sure we need all that power,” Liam said. “A few more of those rechargeable batteries might be plenty. One per trip.” “What if you want to make a long trip? What if the battery goes dead just when you get to a good bit?” Madison held up her hands. “Hush, Ant. You’re getting too excited.” She got up and went to the window. “Why do you suppose an alien gave you this wand? It’s not a wormhole wand as we thought. More of a time wand.” Liam joined her in looking out across the lawn. His dad had cut through the hedge and trimmed it square, and was now digging holes for the gate posts. “I guess the Rock Dwarf figured it was safer for me to have a time wand than a wormhole wand. I can only make harmless trips through time.” “So he was looking out for you? Like an adult saying, ‘Here, child, don’t play with that loaded gun. Play with this water pistol instead.’ That suggests those Rock Dwarves actually care about us.” “Either that,” Ant piped up, “or he really wanted his wormhole wand back and didn’t want to get in trouble for unleashing humans on the universe.” Liam had to admit that was a good point too.

* * *

Their time together was cut short by annoying adults. Liam’s parents wanted him to come outside and help with the hedge—fixing up the new gate as well as doing some trimming—while Madison’s mom required her back at the

house to finish unpacking. “Let’s get someway close to a normal home before school tomorrow,” she suggested. Madison rolled her eyes, blew Liam a random kiss that meant nothing to her but just about knocked his socks off, and ambled home using the new opening in the hedge. Ant’s parents had no interest in what their son was doing. Barton swung by to collect him, and Liam watched as, out in the lane, the chauffeur popped the trunk to show off what he’d bought. Ant stood there looking in, smiling and nodding. He gave Liam a distant thumbs-up, then waved, climbed into the limousine, and left. Liam took up the hot, smelly hedge trimmer and did what he could with it. It was heavy, and he could only manage the lower sides of the hedge. His arms quickly grew tired and he began to appreciate why his dad never did the whole job in one go. His mind was only half on the task. He could hardly believe the power he possessed in that tiny, innocuous, silver penlike object. He was pretty sure he couldn’t change the past—he was, after all, a ghostly onlooker— but he wondered if he could use such a power to visit himself in a few weeks from now. Maybe when the TV was on, Liam’s astral body could peer over his dad’s shoulder and memorize the lottery numbers . . . Tomorrow was Monday. He and his friends had agreed to meet up after school. Once their homework was done, they’d get together down by the lake and try out the generator on the time wand. They'd each take a turn and visit parts of their own lives. The prospect was too exciting for words. Liam was ecstatic. Life had never been so interesting.

Chapter 14

One of the benefits of neighbors whose children went to the same school was that parents could car pool. Liam’s dad agreed to drive the first week, but Mrs. Parker came too on that Monday morning so she could learn the best route and ways to avoid traffic. Madison kept winking at Liam as they sat in the back of the car with Cody between them. After a while, Liam gleaned from her subtle hand movements that she’d found another message on her pillow when she’d woken. All of Brockridge’s school buildings were grouped together. When Liam’s dad pulled up outside the elementary school, Mrs. Parker got out and walked Cody inside to meet his new pre-kindergarten teacher. This would have given Liam plenty of time to question Madison except that his dad sat in the driver’s seat making idle conversation. “It’s gotta be hard on Cody,” he said, twisting around to face them, “having a new teacher and all. You too, Madison.” “It’s only for six weeks, Mr. Mackenzie,” she said. “Then school’s out until August.” “Don’t remind me,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “I won’t get a moment’s peace.” He frowned. “Why are you still here, Liam? Look, from now on, you can jump out with Cody and walk the extra few yards to the middle school. That’ll save me stopping twice. The high school’s a bit of a trek, though, so we’ll drop Madison around the

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corner. But we’ll pick all of you up right here together, okay?” “I guess,” Liam mumbled. “Well, off you go, then,” his dad said. Disgruntled, Liam got out and headed to school. He told Ant about the new message during recess later that morning, and they both spent all day wondering about it. It was frustrating. Even back home after school, Madison refused to reveal the content of the message until after they’d done their homework and met up with Ant again. “Be patient,” she told him with another wink. Liam fumed but agreed. A little later, they headed off down to the lake. Madison had hinted that was where they needed to be, and Liam smiled. He knew half the message already, then. The only thing he was unsure about was the time, and he hoped it would be soon. Ant’s limousine eventually rumbled down the lane and stopped near the water’s edge. Barton climbed out at the same time as Ant, and they both went to the back of the car and popped the trunk open. Liam rushed to see. “Up to two thousand watts of power,” Ant said proudly as Barton placed the surprisingly compact generator on the ground. “It has a smart throttle to vary engine speed based on load, a super-quiet muffler, and a USFS-approved spark arrestor.” Liam scowled at him. “Do you even know what you’re talking about?” “Not really. I’m just reading the instruction manual.” Liam had expected something like a large, two- wheeled trolley wrapped around an engine, but this thing

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was no more than twenty inches square with rounded corners and a carrying handle. It looked more like something a traveling doctor would carry. Barton, a small, thin man who never smiled but had a wickedly dry sense of humor when he tried, gave Ant and Liam a nod, closed the trunk, and returned to the car. He got in without a word and waited for everyone to clear the way before turning the long car around and rumbling away. “We fired this beauty up last night,” Ant said, grinning. “It’s pretty light. About fifty pounds. Very portable.” Madison wandered over and eyed the generator with suspicion. “Will it blow up on us?” “Oh, there’s a high risk factor,” Ant deadpanned. “Press the wrong button and it’ll explode into fragments.” She narrowed her eyes. “Just the button will explode? Or the whole thing?” “The whole thing.” Liam impatiently interrupted the banter. “So what’s first? Maddy’s message—or traveling through time?” “Let’s see the message first,” Ant suggested. “So we know how much time we have before the event.” Madison dug into a pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper torn from a notepad. 4:53 PM. The lake. Stay hidden. The three of them looked at one another. “Stay hidden,” Madison recited, tapping the paper. “Otherwise I guess they’ll see us and abort their mission.” Ant checked the time on his phone. “So we have about half an hour. Perfect! Let’s do some time traveling while we wait.”

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The generator was filled up with gas and oil and ready to go. “We tested it last night,” Ant told them again. “It can run up to ten hours without refilling depending on the load, so I didn’t bring any more gas. I figured this would do it. Barton’s clever. See, I would have just bought the most expensive model, but he always weighs cost against need and decided this one would do. Just under a thousand dollars. Not bad.” He yanked on the small pull-cord and the motor fired up immediately, running so quietly that the three of them could step back a few paces and continue their conversation without shouting. “I have this adapter,” Ant said, pulling a lead from his pocket. “You plug one end into the generator and the other to whatever you want to power up. It might work for the time wand.” He plugged it into the generator and held up the other ends, a set of positive and negative terminals. Liam frowned. He’d never quite figured out how the time wand drew power when connected to only one terminal, but he hoped it would work again. Tentatively, he withdrew the wand from his pocket and held it upright. “I’ll go first,” he said. “So I can show you what happens.” Suddenly nervous, he swallowed hard and took only the positive terminal from Ant’s outstretched hand, letting the other dangle. When he brought the wand close, it lit up with the familiar blue lights, bright even in the overcast afternoon daylight. He noticed that the lights came on before the terminal even touched the end. With a substantial amount of power available, this alien technology simply needed to be in the immediate vicinity.

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“Look,” he said as the dial slowly turned to its startup position. “That’s now.” He adjusted his grip, holding the wand and power cord together in one hand, keeping them in contact. Now he had a free hand to turn the dial. “I’m moving this up a bit. Not too far, just a smidgen—a little way into my future.” He cranked it around no more than a hair’s breadth. “And now I’m going to take a trip. Don’t freak out, okay? If in doubt, just cut the power.” With Madison standing firmly behind Ant, and both with wide eyes, Liam smiled and clicked the greenlit button. He blinked. Suddenly, the lake was gone. Now he was standing in his yard. Something had happened. Two fire trucks stood in the lane, and firemen were tramping across the lawn. Liam sucked in a breath and spun to view the house, fearing it would be gutted from a fire. It wasn’t, but the roof was ripped to shreds. Bits of it lay on the grass. A yellowish hue filled the air, and patches of fog drifted here and there as though a fire had recently been extinguished. He smelled nothing, but then, he was currently in ghostly form, floating around on the lawn in plain view of any firemen who happened to have a sixth sense. Seeing his parents talking to the chief fire officer and looking more puzzled than frantic, he could only assume everyone was all right. Perhaps a tornado had come through. That seemed the only logical answer he could think of. He pulled back, and a split-second later he was standing at the lake in front of his friends. The generator

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continued rumbling as his friends stood there watching him with frowning, oddly distasteful expressions as though he’d grown a second head. “A bit further,” he said, turning the dial a fraction more. He clicked the button again. Daylight dissolved. Now it was nighttime, and he didn’t recognize his surroundings. It was clearly a bedroom, but even in the darkness he knew it wasn’t his. Nor Ant’s. He thought about the ruined roof he’d just witnessed. Was he perhaps staying at a relative’s house while it got fixed? He wished he had a better sense of the date. Seeing himself lying on the carpet with a blanket over him, he crept closer and found his phone there also, lying next to his outstretched hand. He bent to pick it up—and his fingers slid right through. He shuddered with revulsion. The phone had moved a tiny bit, but there was no way he could pick it up or press the button on the side to display the time. He became aware that Ant was on the floor also, nearer the wall, face down, snoozing with a nose whistle. Liam found this odd. Why was Ant staying over? Where were they? Trying to peer through the darkness, he turned to the only bed in the room, a queen size one with a third sleeping person. No doubt this was the owner of the room. Liam eased nearer, straining to see. Madison. What the—? Liam’s ghostly, insubstantial heart beat surprisingly hard in his incorporeal body. This was Madison’s room?

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The three of them were having some sort of slumber party? The idea of this startled him far more than the sight of firemen walking across his lawn and the roof of his house ripped to shreds. What kind of parents allowed two twelve-year-old boys to sleep on the floor of a fifteen- year-old girl’s bedroom? She was bundled up tight under her thick quilt blanket. All he could see in the subdued light was a mass of black hair on a white pillow. Near her hand was a notepad, the one she always kept close while she slept. Liam looked around. Madison had a small digital clock on her bedside table, and it read 2:05 AM. But that didn’t help him much. He wanted the date. Trying the doorknob was futile. He couldn’t move physical objects, but he also seemed unable to ghost through the door. He felt spongy when he pushed against it. Spongy but solid. He was in some kind of in-between state that trapped him in the room. He returned to his own sleeping form and bent over it to have another go at switching the phone on. He concentrated hard this time, willing his fingers to become more solid. He failed. The phone did move again, but pressing the button on the side required an opposing force, a thumb on one side and a finger on the other, with the phone resting in the palm of his hand—something that usually came naturally. Being a ghost was frustrating! He decided he’d had enough. “That was annoying,” he said when he willed himself back to the real world. “And a little . . . surprising.” “What do you mean?” Madison demanded. “Wait— where are you going now?”

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“You mean when, surely,” Liam said with a grin. He turned the dial a little more, a bigger leap this time. “I’m finding some limitations with this thing. I’m like a ghost, but I’m not ghostly enough to pass through walls. I wish I could fine-tune it a bit more . . .” Ant held out his hand. “We’re running out of time. Is it my turn yet?” “In a minute. Be right back.” This time he yelled with terror as he found himself floating in a wormhole alongside his unwitting physical body. His future self was wearing some sort of metallic armor that covered him from head to toe. Two seconds later, the two of them were ejected from the swirling tunnel onto the muddy, puddle-ridden bank of a river. Whereas Ghost-Liam landed softly and bounced as though moonwalking, his futuristic armored self clanked down with a crash and a splash, instantly dirtying his shiny plating. Liam just about had time to register a number of other metal-clad figures waiting on the riverbank when he was yanked back through the wormhole. For the first time, he felt out of sorts as though he’d just visited somewhere he shouldn’t have and been pulled away. He expected to be tossed from the other end of the wormhole, only it didn’t happen; instead, he slowed and halted. Being stuck inside a wormhole alarmed him. He flailed but couldn’t gain traction one way or another. He floated there, neither coming nor going, the wormhole stretching into the distance in both directions. He thought it through. He’d arrived in this time zone and latched onto his future self as usual . . . only his future

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self was already in the process of traveling to another world. Apparently ghosts weren’t able to do that. Perhaps the astral realm had limitations with regards to distance? Momentum had carried him through earlier, but the tether to his physical body back home had stretched to its limit and yanked him back. “Well, this trip is boring,” he said aloud. “How long am I supposed to wait here?” Until my future self returns home. Grimacing, he decided he was done with this jaunt. He willed himself to return to the lake. When he blinked awake to the sound of the portable generator, Ant grabbed his wrist tightly. “Are you back? Okay, enough for now. We have about thirty seconds until the next event. I was about to unplug you and bring you home.” “Whoa,” Liam exclaimed. “Where did the time go?” Madison came hurrying over. “Finally! Liam, where have you been? Come on, guys—we need to hide.”

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Chapter 15

Ant switched off the portable generator and snatched it up. The three of them hurried into the trees and hid. All things considered, they still had a pretty good view of the lake. “I can’t believe how fast the time went by,” Liam whispered. “I know I visited a few places, but it didn’t seem like I was gone all that long.” Peering around a tree toward the lake, Madison said, “You stood there with your eyes crossed most of the time, drool on your chin. I was worried about you until Ant said you often looked like that.” Liam turned to punch his friend, but Ant was over at the next tree, hunkered over his thousand-dollar generator as if an alien might take off with it. Ant grinned at him. “It’s true. That’s what you look like when you’re trying to figure out math problems.” “What time is it?” Liam said. Ant had already pulled out his phone. “It’s time. The wormhole should be—” “It’s here,” Madison hissed. “Shh.” The swirling tunnel appeared in the same spot as it had the day before, low on the water just a little way out. And, as before, a huge red and black wasplike creature emerged, zipping around and checking for spies. It was far enough away that Liam was confident it wouldn’t spot them crouching in the trees. Sure enough, it completed its reconnaissance and disappeared—and, half a minute later, the visitors arrived.

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“The Stick Insects,” Madison whispered. “I’ve seen these ones before. They showed up in my yard one time just before we moved to Brockridge.” They were ghastly-looking things. Four of them shot through the wormhole in a horizontal position, head first, each with six legs folded up underneath. They landed easily on the surface of the water, scooting along as though emerging from a water chute at a theme park. They dipped below the surface and disappeared. After a minute, legs protruded from the water near the bank. Then the heads and bodies followed. Once the four bugs had crawled out, they reared up on hind legs while the rest of their limbs unfolded. Now they stood seven feet tall. These khaki-colored creatures had no use for clothes, and their glistening, dripping, hard-shelled bodies gave Liam the creeps. Each had a large head, triangular in shape, a little like a praying mantis with its huge, bulging eyes and long antennae. These heads rotated in unison, taking in the surroundings. When they spoke, it was a creepy clicking, clacking sound. “Nasty looking things,” Liam said in a low voice. “Did they send the wasp scout through last time?” Madison shook her head. “That’s new. Maybe they only do that in the daytime when there’s more risk of people being about.” The Stick Insects moved slowly out of the reeds and long grass and into the clearing where Barton had turned his car around numerous times in the past. The creatures bent to study tire tracks, touching the dirt, sniffing at the ground.

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“We won’t be going through the wormhole today,” Ant murmured. “Let’s do it another time when the visitors are cute, furry little bunny rabbits with space helmets.” Madison crouched lower. “Agreed.” She looked pale and edgy as she dropped carefully to her knees behind the tree. “There’s something about these guys . . .” The four spindly visitors moved closer. Three of them walked, slow and awkward, but the fourth dropped to all six legs and scuttled ahead. Madison let out the tiniest gasp and crouched lower still, face down, hands over her head as though wishing she were anywhere else but here. Liam held his breath. In a matter of seconds, that scuttling Stick Insect had closed the distance and was now no more than fifteen feet away, skirting the edge of the lane just the other side of the trees. It had its head low, antennae quivering. Abruptly it stopped and turned toward them. It let out an urgent clacking sound, and its three companions froze. Then they, too, dropped onto all legs and began scuttling about, racing along the lane, coming to investigate. “It knows we’re here,” Ant whispered. He was crouched awkwardly, ready to spring into the air. Liam knew he was right but hated to make a run for it. There was just a tiny, slim chance that the bugs had not sniffed them out at all, and making a run for it now would certainly announce their presence. When the closest Stick Insect let out a rattling shriek, Madison’s nerve broke. She jumped up and tore away into the trees with a shuddering cry. That did it. Liam and Ant sprinted after her, and the Stick Insects rattled and clacked and shrieked. The next half-minute was a panicked, frenzied dash through the

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woods: rustling bushes, cracking twigs, and terrified cries followed by the scampering of many long legs. They quickly got lost. Madison was still in the lead, and it was all Ant and Liam could do to keep up. Her legs weren’t as long as the Stick Insects’, but they were still pretty long. She could run. In the back of his mind, Liam was glad they were leading these creatures away from the houses. The idea of the Stick Insects showing up on his doorstep horrified him. What would his parents think? Then again, according to Madison, these things had stalked their way to her backyard at her old house—and now they were almost in her backyard again. Were they tracking her? He stumbled suddenly and went down with a yelp. Apparently not realizing, Ant crashed onward into the woods after Madison. Liam dragged himself back to his feet and, panting, forced himself to start moving again. Then something slammed into his back. Down he went again, this time with a hard, heavy mass pressing him to the ground. The clicking, clacking sound was like a series of sharp gunshots behind his ears, deafening him. “Get off!” he yelled. “Leave me alone!” When he squirmed onto his back, it was because the Stick Insect allowed it. Four hard ‘feet’ were jammed against his arms and body, and a head twice the size of his hung over him, mandibles oozing some sort of grey slime. The other three creatures arrived and gave up the chase, content with a single prisoner. They closed in, surrounding him, their hideous, emotionless faces mere feet away. Up close and personal like this, the creatures were even uglier, their tough shells decorated with small knobby points and short, stubby hair.

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But they weren’t just insects, at least not as Liam understood the word. These were alien beings, far smarter than they looked. Liam couldn’t decide if this fact heightened or eased his terror. Was it worse to fall victim to mindless bugs . . . or super-smart creatures from another planet? “Let me go,” he croaked, unable to squirm now that the Stick Insect had repositioned itself and pinned him with all six of its legs. The focused weight was painful and would surely leave bruises on his arms and legs. “Please— let me go.” His answer was a series of clicks that sent shivers down his spine. Two huge compound eyes stared at him, and he was alarmed to see a dark spot in the middle of each, like pupils, that indicated the creature was staring right at him. It pawed at him, and he was shocked to realize it was groping in his pocket. “What are you doing?” Somehow the clumsy pincer found what it was looking for. The time wand. The creature held it up and turned its great head almost a hundred and eighty degrees to face one of its colleagues, probably the leader of this army of four. That leader stared down at Liam, its head tilted. With a sharp click, it made an obvious gesture: Bring him. “No, no,” Liam moaned as three giant bugs swept him upright with ease. He felt the pressure of at least ten pincerlike paws gripping him. They were rock-solid, their arms like thick steel rods in perfect coordination with each other. He felt like he was clamped to an evil dentist’s chair the way they

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turned and lifted his immobilized body. A second later, he was slung over a hard, unforgiving shoulder, his upper body free to squirm and twist but his legs held absolutely tight against the alien bug’s chest. Terror found new levels as he was marched through the woods and back to the lane, two bug-creatures behind and the leader out of sight somewhere ahead. In the background he glimpsed his friends, Ant and Madison, peering around a tree. Their faces were too distant to make out, but Madison had her hands clasped to Ant’s shoulder, a sign of someone struck with fright and indecision. Liam struggled until he was exhausted, all to no avail. He yelled and yelled, hoping his dad would hear and come running. But he knew his dad was most likely in his office at the back of the house, engrossed in his website coding, maybe even with some music playing. Liam’s mom, meanwhile, was either running a load of laundry or reading—or both. The washing machine would drown out his cries for help. Twisting around, he saw the end of the lane, the higher grasses and reeds, and the lake beyond. The wormhole hung there, silent and swirling. The leading alien bug stepped over the high grass and into the water, and Liam’s captor followed without hesitation. Cold water gushed over his dangling feet and up his legs to his waist, then to his chest and neck. My phone! he thought with dismay, certain its circuits were currently frying in his pocket. But then something much worse occurred to him. Did these bugs know humans couldn’t breathe underwater? Luckily, his captor hoisted him high, keeping his face above the surface.

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Wriggling, he felt like an upturned beetle, flat on his back and flailing his arms and legs in the air as he tried to turn over and escape. It was no good. Four pincers held him tight at the shoulders and sides. Ant and Madison came dashing out of the woods and down the lane. They seemed intent on saving him somehow, though Liam had no idea what they could do. They started yelling and screaming, first pleading and then threatening the visitors to release him as they skidded to a stop at the water’s edge. Except for a quick swivel of heads, the aliens ignored them. Liam felt a draft behind him, a powerful suction, and when he twisted to look, he saw the wormhole yawning wide mere feet away. Before he had time to yell out again, he and his captor were yanked upward into the vortex.

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Chapter 16

After three seconds speeding through the wormhole, during which his Stick Insect captor expertly spun lengthwise before shooting out the other end, Liam got his first real look at an alien planet. Even before the four bugs had thudded down onto a sand dune, he felt the dramatic rise in temperature and smelled something in the air that reminded him of creosote on the newly installed hedge gate back home. He looked around, taking everything in but barely able to process anything with his nerves in such disarray: a deep red sky, at least three dazzling suns, the spindly, blackened trees of a petrified forest that surrounded much of the landscape, endless sand dunes littered with great, jagged rocks and scraggy bushes, and—completely out of place—a giant iron-clad tank of a vehicle with a set of tracks on each corner. The only thing Liam liked about this place was the smell. Everything else was downright horrible. The alien bugs, now reunited, clicked and clacked at each other, and one pointed to the tank-machine. Though the vehicle was windowless, just a hulking rectangle of dull, khaki-colored metal that blended in with the dunes, it was clearly pointed toward them, and Liam imagined a driver sitting up front watching them. The idea of one of these Stick Insects driving anything set Liam off in maniacal laughter that quickly dissolved into sobs of despair.

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The bugs half walked, half scuttled toward the tank, Liam held high like a prize. A giant red and black wasp appeared out of nowhere and buzzed around the group, then shot off ahead. As they drew near to the waiting vehicle, a thick door on the side hissed open, rising outward and up to reveal a short set of steps. The wasp flew inside, and moments later the first of the Stick Insects arrived, squeezing through the narrow opening to a dark interior. Liam caught a glimpse of the driver’s seat—or flight deck or cockpit or whatever this thing had. To his surprise, the seat was like any other, surely made for a human to sit in. Or something humanoid at least. Something quite unlike these Stick Insects. Finally he was put down and made to sit on a bench seat that ran along the length of the vehicle. The alien bugs, stooping low, continued on to another door farther down, leaving him unattended. Startled, he watched as the door slid open. The bugs scuttled through, and the door closed behind them. All was silent except for the red and black wasp, which hovered near the low-slung, dimly lit ceiling. Pipes and thick cables ran its length. The floor was a metal grid system, and through it, down in the depths of the vehicle, he could see dark, somewhat oily machinery. The smell of creosote wafted through the open doorway not ten feet from where he sat. His heart thumping, he stood and took a step toward freedom. The wasp continued hovering in place, watchful. He took another step. Feeling emboldened though suspicious, he broke into a dash. But as he arrived at the open doorway, the great

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door swung down, too fast for him to leap down the steps without risk of being cut in half on the threshold. He pounded on it even before it had sealed shut with a hiss. “Let me out! Whoever you are, let me go!” How long did he have before the wormhole collapsed? A shadow fell over him. He spun around, gasping at the sight of a large humanoid in a dull-brown, beaten-up leather jumpsuit. This ‘man’ towered over him, his shoulders and arms massive, his protruding, deeply furrowed brow causing his eyes to appear sunken. But other than a few apelike qualities and long, tangled black hair, he looked like he'd originated from Earth. Before Liam could say anything, the man raised a small weapon and shot him. It wasn’t a fatal wound. It just stung a little. Liam gaped as he slapped his hands across his chest, trying to find the wound and expecting blood to start flowing at any moment. It didn’t. Even when he found the tiny tear in his shirt below his throat, no blood trickled out. He poked his finger through the fabric and pulled at it until he could see his skin. There, a red bruise was already forming, a tiny red dot in the center. He touched his finger to the dot and stared at the tiniest smears of blood. Meanwhile, the giant reholstered his weapon and pulled out a small device that he raised to his lips. He scowled at Liam as he spoke an unfamiliar language in a slow, rumbling growl. When he finished speaking, he flipped a button and his voice played back sharp and clear. He’d recorded a message! With a satisfied nod, the giant offered Liam the device.

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Stunned and confused, Liam shakily took it. The giant wasn’t finished. He held up another device—the silver time wand. If that was what the Stick Insects had detected, why they had come after him, then he didn’t want it anymore. “Keep it,” Liam said, backing away. The man took one step forward and, grabbing Liam’s shoulder, thrust the time wand at him. His meaning was clear. “You really want me to take it?” Liam muttered, “Well, okay, I guess. But I won’t use it. I’ll toss it in a drawer and forget about it.” He took the wand and slid it into his pocket. Unbelievably, the giant laughed and said something unintelligible. Liam narrowed his eyes. “Can you understand me?” Abruptly, the giant reached up, pulled a handle, and gestured as the thick outer door hissed and started opening. Deep red daylight flooded in. Liam took one last look at the man and fled, stumbling across the dunes, the sand sucking at his feet as though the alien world were trying to hang on to him. The wormhole swirled ahead, as silent as ever. Before he reached it, the tank machine roared into life with great gas-guzzling belches. Black smoke rolled from its back end and, as the tracks on one side started to move, the vehicle slowly swung around to face the other way, effectively turning its back on Liam. Two figures shot out of the wormhole and landed in a heap in the sand, but Liam was too dazed to pay much attention. He watched the enormous machine rumble

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away, rising up and over a dune and leaving deep fissures in the bone-dry sand that quickly filled in. More black smoke billowed, and the tank altered its direction and headed off toward the nearest patch of wizened, petrified trees. “Liam.” He spun. Ant was there, wide-eyed and on his knees where he’d only half managed to stand. Next to him, looking around and flinging her black hair about, Madison was rising shakily to her feet. Ant spoke again. “Liam? Are you all right?” Liam stumbled over and helped him up, then turned to Madison. “You came after me.” “Of course we did,” she said. She couldn’t keep her attention in one place, her eyes darting this way and that. “Where are we? How come they let you go?” Liam spread his hands wide. “I have no idea.” “What’s that?” Ant said, pointing. In Liam’s right hand was the device he’d been handed—the miniature voice recorder. He stared at it dumbly. “Never mind,” Madison said firmly. “We have a few minutes at most. Let’s go.” Freedom beckoned. Liam, Ant and Madison dashed toward the wormhole, reaching it at the same time. Holding hands, they flew up into the vortex together. Hurtling through the tunnel, hand in hand with Madison in the middle, Liam felt a surge of happiness at being on his way back home and excitement for everything that had happened, however awful it had been at the time. He bent double, balling himself up as he tried to turn all the way around.

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Madison winced. “What are you doing? You’re hurting my hand.” “Sorry. Just trying to turn around so we come out feet first at the other end.” “I can’t believe I can hear you talking,” Ant said, his face drained of color. “I feel like we're traveling a billion miles an hour while not moving at all.” Liam had no more time to wriggle around. But he was almost there, almost right side up, which meant he could land properly for a change— The three of them shot from the wormhole and plunged into the lake. Liam came up sputtering. He splashed around and felt for Madison’s hand. She and Ant surfaced a little more calmly than he had, but then, they’d hit the lake head first in a perfect dive and avoided water shooting up their noses. “I guess the boat moved,” Ant said. The Weary Traveler was drifting alone about twenty feet out. “Good thing too,” Madison said. “Smacking into it on re-entry would have hurt.” Liam swam to retrieve it. As he was dragging himself aboard, he heard Ant exclaim something and turned around to look. The wormhole was flickering, becoming unstable. He watched it idly as he got himself situated and picked up the oars. The light show finally ended, and he eased the boat across the water to collect his paddling friends. They sat there for a while after that, shivering a little, dripping into the boat. As Madison tried to wring out her hair, droplets flicked onto two cells phones that lay in the

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bottom of the boat. She and Ant had stashed them safely before taking a dive into the water—unlike Liam, who’d been dragged in against his will. He fished his own phone out of his pocket and studied it. The screen was dead. “Leave it switched off,” Madison warned. “Just let it dry in a warm place for a few days. It should be all right.” He nodded and put it away again. “Well, I guess we finally did it,” Ant said at last. “We crossed over. We took a giant step for mankind. We boldly went where no man has gone before. We traveled to a galaxy far, far away—” “Yeah, yeah,” Madison muttered. “Wasn’t quite how I pictured it, though.” “How did you picture an alien world?” Liam asked, intrigued. “No, I mean the situation. I thought we’d all kind of agree which wormhole to travel through. I thought we’d go together and step through holding hands and smiling, arriving on a magical world with glittering skyscrapers and towers—” “And unicorns dancing across the meadows,” Ant finished. “Well, we had no choice. We got what we got.” “I know, and it was horrible. Did you see those bug things?” “How could I not? I was right there with you . . .” The two continued their discussion, but Liam, in the bow of the boat facing back, stared at them silently. It was a while before he spoke. “You came after me.” They paused in their gentle bickering. “Well, duh,” Ant said. He shrugged. “What were we supposed to do? You got yourself caught by the bad guys.” He sighed and shook his head. “Amateur.”

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“I think they detected the time wand,” Liam said with a sigh. He touched his pocket. The penlike object was still there, a little like a bad penny. He had serious misgivings about it now. “I don’t think we should use it again. Not for a while, anyway. We don’t know anything about it. If all these visitors can somehow sense that it’s being used . . .” He shook his head. “Anyway, thanks. For coming after me, I mean.” Madison tilted her head and peered through her bedraggled hair. “I couldn’t face explaining everything to your parents. I had no choice but to rescue your butt.” Liam swallowed hard and stared down at the pool of water in the bottom of the boat. “I owe you guys big time.” He looked up to see Ant nodding. “You do. We risked our lives saving you. You owe us bug time.” Madison rolled her eyes. “Actually,” Liam said, grinning, “you didn’t really save me. I escaped on my own, thanks. You just happened to be there when I got out. But it was nice of you to come after me.” “So spill it,” Ant said. “What happened? And what was that thing you were holding? Do you still have it?” Liam patted his pocket and extracted the small recorder. He held it up, and drops fell from its wet surface. Somehow he doubted its futuristic internal circuitry had fizzled the way his phone had. “It’s a recorded voice message. The Stick Insects weren’t in charge. There was a boss man, human but really big. Looked like an ape. He shot me, then spoke into this thing. He played it back to check his voice had recorded okay and gave it to me to keep. Then he let me go.”

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Ant and Madison blinked at him. “So what did he say?” Ant prompted. One of the three buttons on the device was oblong in shape, clearly a slider switch. Without the usual symbols for audio playback, he had to take a guess as to its purpose. Shrugging, Liam thumbed it. It stuck there while a deep, guttural voice boomed out in a completely alien language. Then it ended, and the button popped back into place. “Don’t understand a word of it,” Ant said. “Nor me,” Liam agreed. Madison was still blinking rapidly, looking him up and down. “Wait. Recap. Did you say . . . did you say he shot you?” “What?” He looked down at his chest, seeing the tiny hole in his shirt. Beneath, the red bruise had spread, and the tiny dot in the middle had blackened a little. “Oh, yeah. He shot me.”

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Chapter 17

They each had to get home for dinner, but there was time to listen to the recorded message three times. It wasn’t a language any of them found familiar. Liam and Ant swore it was alien—an ‘off-world’ lingo—though Madison suggested that any number of Earth languages sounded just as weird. “The point is,” Liam argued, “it’s meaningless to us. Should we try to get it translated? I don’t understand. Surely that guy knew I didn’t speak his language!” “And if you did, why bother giving you a recorded message when you were right there?” Ant reasoned. Madison had the most logical solution. “Maybe the message isn’t for you. Maybe you’re just a messenger.” Liam’s mouth fell open. “I’m supposed to pass it on to someone else? But . . . who?” He frowned. “I feel like R2- D2 with an embedded holographic message for Obi Wan Kenobi.” “Ooh, a message from a princess!” Ant said, grinning. “Or a message for a princess.” They collected the portable generator and headed home. Madison kept asking about Liam’s wound, but he dismissed it. “I’m guessing it was a misfire or something. Should have been a powerful laser bolt but ended up being a miserable little zap.” The silence from his friends told him they didn’t believe a word of it. “Look, I don’t know what it is. I feel fine, though. It’s a bit sore, like I got jabbed with a spike, but it’ll be all right.”

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“Why are you so calm about it?” Madison persisted. “Because I figure if that guy wanted me dead, I’d be dead by now. I don’t know. I didn’t get the impression he wanted to harm me. He gave me a message.” Ant stopped dead. “It’s a tracker! I bet he shot a tracker into you. If he’s gonna give you a message to pass on to some other alien, he’ll probably want to know where you are at all times.” Liam shrugged. “I thought of that already. It’s a good theory for mere Earthlings, but this guy comes from another world. I’m not going anywhere except to school and back. How does a tracker help him?” They talked and talked, and nothing really made sense. By the time they arrived at Madison’s driveway, Ant’s chauffeur was waiting and the three parted ways— but not before Madison gripped Liam’s shoulders and spoke sternly into his face. “If that guy stuck you with a virus or mutant alien blood or something like that—if you start feeling weird like you’re turning into a giant fly or something—you have to tell me. We can’t keep something like that to ourselves, do you hear? Don’t act the hero, and don’t be a fool. Okay?” “Got it,” Liam agreed. Before Ant climbed into the waiting limousine, he held out the generator to Liam. “You want to keep hold of this? Since you have the time wand as well?” “Sure.” He frowned. “But like I said, we’re not using the wand again for a while. Okay?” Madison looked relieved. “Honestly, it’s a little freaky to think that you can go back and forward in time and see yourself. I don’t think I want to try it anyway.”

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So Liam stashed the generator in the garage on the way in. It didn’t matter too much if his dad found it, but it would be easier if he didn’t, so he pushed it behind the gardening tools near the hedge trimmer. He figured his dad was done with that for another week. As for the time wand . . . He put it in the bottom drawer of his desk and buried it under a mangled Star Wars paperback, an unused can of horrible-smelling deodorant one of his aunts had given him last Christmas, and a long-forgotten packet of congealed gummy bears.

* * *

“I have another message,” Madison told Liam on Tuesday afternoon after school. His dad had already parked the car and headed indoors. “Ah,” Liam said. “That explains why you were so fidgety all the way home. I thought you’d sat on a wasp.” “Ugh. Don’t mention wasps again. I’ll never get that big red-and-black thing out of my mind.” “So what’s the message?” She produced a folded sheet of paper, but before she unraveled it, she pulled Liam away from the front of the house and around to the side. “We wouldn’t have been able to witness this event,” she said, sounding sad. “It was impossible.” “Wait—we missed it already?” She held up the paper so he could read it. “Look.” 11:32 AM. Behind Ed’s. “Ed’s,” Liam said. “As in the gas station?” Madison shrugged. “It’s about two miles from here, on the main road. We

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can go there in Ant’s limo when it arrives.” She raised her eyebrows at this. “Sounds like fun. But it’s no good. We missed it already. We were in school at 11:32 AM.” “Right, I get that. But isn’t it worth seeing where it happened? Maybe there’s evidence of a visit. Maybe someone saw something.” They discussed it with Ant when he finally arrived. He looked doubtful but agreed to take a look. He held the limo door open for Madison, and when she edged forward, he made a grand gesture and bowed. “Ma’am.” “Why, thank you, my good man.” She bent and ducked inside. The inside of the limo smelled of new leather and carpet. Longer than the average car, a comfortable sofa ran lengthways along one side, wrapping around to finish with an armchair at the back. Along the other side was a low cabinet dominated by a large TV screen. There was no rear window, and although the side windows were long and flooded the interior with daylight, Ant kept the one behind the sofa closed much of the time so it didn’t shine on the TV. While Ant studied Madison’s message, Liam pointed out a few features to her, including the fridge and the gaming console. If Madison was impressed, she chose to be aloof, turning up her nose and sniffing disdainfully. “I wouldn’t spend all my money on a limousine.” “If you did,” Ant murmured, frowning at the paper he held, “you’d only be able to afford the welcome mat you stepped on.” “Pooh. Rich kids and their fancy toys.”

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“Yeah, it sucks to be me,” he agreed. He reached up to flick a switch on—the intercom. “Barton, take us to Ed’s.” A muffled voice came back. “Right you are, young master.” As the limousine started moving, Madison broke into a grin. “Young master? Really?” Ant bowed and flicked the intercom off. “He refuses to call me by my name. Says it’s not appropriate. He takes his job very seriously.” He smiled. “He’s very stuffy and professional, but he’s like an uncle to me. And he keeps secrets. He would never lie to my parents, but he doesn’t offer anything unless they ask.” When Barton pulled up outside Ed’s gas station, several motorists looked over with frowns on their faces. Liam had ridden with Ant many times but never got used to the scrutiny. Rather than feel important and privileged, he felt mildly embarrassed—and that was exactly how it was for Ant every morning at school, which is why he jumped out around the corner and walked. Ed’s was a rundown place owned by an unpleasant man with a shaven head, long red beard, and pants that hung low thanks to his huge belly. “I’m not sure I want to get out,” Madison said, peering across the lot. Two cars were parked by the gas pumps, both drivers standing there looking at the limo while waiting for their tanks to fill. Inside the store, Ed himself was pressed to the glass, a scowl on his face. “He won’t talk to us anyway,” Liam said. “He doesn’t like kids much. He doesn’t like anyone much.” Ant reached for the intercom. “Hey, Barton? Would you mind speaking to the owner here and asking if anything unusual happened this morning around eleven?”

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After a pause, the divider that separated the passengers from the driver slid downwards and Barton twisted around. “Anything in particular, young master?” “Not sure. Just whatever. I heard something weird happened here. That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Barton frowned and nodded slowly. As he was doing so, the gas station’s owner, Ed, appeared in the doorway and strode across the lot toward them, his belly jiggling and a frown on his forehead. “Hmm. Looks like you don’t need to bother,” Ant said. Barton returned his attention to the front and rolled his side window down to greet Ed while, at the same time, closing the solid privacy panel. Though the children could no longer see Barton, the intercom was still on, allowing the children to eavesdrop. “Want gas, sir? You can use any pump. This car’ll fit, no problem.” “Oh, I don’t need gas,” Barton said. “I was looking for information, actually.” Ed stood up straight and put his hands on his thick hips. “About what?” “About an incident this morning, around eleven?” Nodding slowly, Ed stared at Barton a while, then took a step back to squint at the rear windows. Madison immediately shrank back, but Ant grinned at her and spoke quietly. “He can’t see you. The windows are black on the outside, totally opaque.” “Oh. Yes. I knew that.” Ed gave up trying to penetrate the glass with his stare. “Are you Government, sir?” After a pause, Barton said, “I’m not at liberty to say.”

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Ant silently punched the air. “Nice,” he whispered. “What’s my information worth to you?” Ed said a little haughtily. Barton paused again. “If the information is good, I’m authorized to pay you five hundred dollars.” Ed’s eyes nearly bugged out. He reeled, then shook his head. When he spoke again, his entire demeanor had changed. Now he was eager to please. “Oh, it’s good, sir. It’s really good.” He snatched glances left and right, saw his two customers watching from their gas pumps, and leaned inside the driver cab. Now Liam and his friends, their faces crammed against the glass, could no longer see much of him. “Just after eleven this morning, I heard a bit of noise out back. Dogs were going crazy. I went out to whip ’em, but when I got there, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was these three . . . people, all dressed up in costume, full movie makeup and everything, and they was digging up a bush.” “Digging up a bush?” Barton repeated. “Yup. Three people in Halloween costumes, shovels in hand, digging up a bush. Big bush, too. Prickly thing with red berries. They was digging it up, going around and around, careful not to kill the roots, like they were hoping to take it off and replant it. And they did, too. They took it off into the woods and vanished.” “Vanished?” “Well, disappeared into the trees.” Ed shook his head. “I mean, who does that? Dresses up like aliens and digs up a bush? I had a good mind to set the dogs on ’em, but I was too, uh . . . what’s the word?”

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“Scared?” Barton offered. “No, not scared. Startled. That’s it. Surprised, you know? I just watched in secret. They never saw me. They kept looking at the dogs in their pen and glancing all around like they knew they were trespassing, but they dug up that bush anyway and disappeared. I went after them later but never found a sign of ’em.” Ant whispered into the intercom. “Ask what they looked like.” His voice obviously carried quite well because Ed stood up straight and glanced back along the vehicle, trying again to see through the glass. “As my master requested,” Barton said, “please describe the, uh, alien costumes.” Ed scratched his nose absently. “Silver-colored spacesuits, big glass helmets. Kind of fat.” He touched his belly and tried to suck it in. “Their heads were round. Great big eyes. They had teeth sticking up from their mouths. Realistic stuff, just like you see in the movies.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you a movie exec type? Have your actors gone AWOL?” Barton was quick off the mark. “Ah, you’re too smart for me. Yes, my actors left the movie set this morning without permission, and I wanted to confirm their movements before confronting them about it.” Ed nodded sagely. “Gotcha. All makes sense now. Well, I hope my information was, uh, useful.” He coughed and held up his hand in a none-too-subtle way. “Master?” Barton asked. “Pay the man,” Ant said in his best gravelly voice. And so Ed found himself five hundred dollars richer than he had been five minutes before. He first saluted,

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then waved, then gave a thumbs-up before waddling back into the store. As Barton pulled away from the gas station, turning sharply in the road to head back to Liam’s house, Ant shrugged, switched off the intercom, and raised his eyebrow at Madison. “I think that message is confirmed. It’s enough detail for your journal, right?” “More than enough,” Madison agreed. “But what is it with all these visitors coming to our planet and nosing around? Digging up a bush? Taking rock and dirt samples? Testing the air? What does it all mean?”

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Chapter 18

The rest of the week dragged. Madison didn’t sleep write again until three days later, sometime after midnight on Friday, and she didn’t bother telling Liam about it until he called her on Saturday morning to confirm their plans for the afternoon. His parents were going out, and he’d invited Madison and Ant over for a movie and popcorn. When she mentioned in passing that she had a message, he nearly dropped his recently dried phone in the sink as he stood looking out the kitchen window. “What does it say?” he almost yelled with excitement. “Don’t get too excited. It’s a weird one. Listen, I have to go out with Mom this morning and won’t be back until about three. But I’ll see you after that. Ant’s coming over at four, right? I’ll show you the message then.” To his intense frustration, she hung up and kept him waiting. He paced all morning, pausing only when he heard tires crunching on gravel next door around midday. But it wasn’t Madison and her mom returning early, it was her dad leaving in the truck. Liam spotted little Cody perched on a child seat, looking excited about sitting up front. The truck left, and Liam paced some more. By the time Madison showed up at Liam’s door, he was almost beside himself with impatience. All that excitement ebbed after she’d read the message aloud three times. “Read it again,” Liam demanded. Madison sighed. “4:03 PM. Liam's house. Quarter- mile away.”

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“But that doesn't make any sense.” “It's what I wrote.” “Yeah, but . . . my house and a quarter-mile away? That can't be right.” “I know. That’s why I said don’t get too excited about it.” Scowling, Madison flicked back her hair, got up from the sofa, and wandered across to the double glass doors. Despite it being late afternoon, the room was unusually dark as she stood framed in the gloomy daylight. “Are you sure you wrote it properly?” Liam said. “I can’t control what I write or how I write it. I’m not even awake at the time. It just happens sometime during the night. You know that.” “Yeah.” Liam chewed his lip. “So the wormhole could open here or a quarter-mile away? I’m not sure what to think about that.” “Well, if it’s going to open a quarter-mile away, and we have no idea where, I vote we just stay right here. Maybe it’ll open here in your house. If not, well, I guess we’ll miss it this time.” She peered upward. “Anyway, looks like it’s going to rain. Let’s just stick to movie afternoon.” Outside, thunder rumbled. Liam glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s four o’clock. So yeah, movie it is, then—if Ant ever gets here.” Sighing, he extracted himself from the rocking chair and looked for his mobile phone. “He should be here by now.” “Call him while I make the popcorn.” “I plan to.” Liam found his phone and stabbed at it until Ant’s blurry face showed up. He pressed the call button and waited.

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“I know, I know,” Ant said on the loudspeaker once the call had connected. “It’s not my fault! Barton has an upset stomach and had to stop.” Liam laughed. “Never heard that excuse before.” “It’s true! But I’m here now. That’s me at the door.” The moment he said those words, the doorbell chimed. Liam rushed to answer. Ant stood on the doorstep looking up at the sky. Behind him, the black limousine backed out of the driveway, tires crunching on gravel, its engine utterly silent. “Looks like a storm’s brewing,” Ant said. He shouldered his way into the house. “And I hear popcorn popping. Wait a minute. Have you put poor Maddy to work in the kitchen?” He shook his head. “Some host you are. Come on, Liam, get with the program. In my house we’d have caterers and butlers doing all that stuff for us.” As usual, he wrinkled his nose as he passed the TV. “And we’d be watching the movie on a gazillion-inch LED screen instead of this iddy-biddy portable.” The ‘iddy-biddy portable’ Ant referred to—a fifty- inch plasma—filled one corner of the modest living room. Liam fired up the Blu-ray player and sifted through the movies. “Ah, excellent service,” Ant told Madison when she returned with three bowls of popcorn. “So what’s new? How’s your puncture, Liam?” Liam automatically touched his chest. “Fine. Bruise has gone. Itches a bit, that’s all.” “So you haven’t turned into a monster yet? Or a dragon like that kid in Island of Fog? Or got some nasty virus?”

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“Not that I know of.” They’d talked about his tiny injury off and on all week. They’d played back the mysterious recorded message dozens of times as well, to the point that Liam was beginning to make out familiar words and phrases that he hadn’t recognized before. Ant and Madison disagreed. It was still utter gibberish to them, and Liam had to concede that his brain was making stuff up. They’d talked in great detail about each and every event Madison had experienced, recapped the few they’d shared, and run over the details of the trip to the sand dunes with the Stick Insects. But there was only so much they could discuss without repeating themselves, and without any new events, the conversation was beginning to grow stale—hence an ordinary movie afternoon to take their minds off things. The time wand was only mentioned a couple of times. The way the Stick Insects had honed in on it suggested it was like a beacon. Since Liam had put the wand in the bottom drawer of his desk, neither Ant nor Madison had asked about it. They got comfortable—Ant in the armchair, Madison stretched out on the sofa, and Liam in the rocker. As the trailers started, he threw a piece of popcorn across the room to get Madison’s attention. “Hey, tell him about the message.” Ant sat up. “You wrote something last night?” He was all ears as Madison dug out her precious journal and read the curious note aloud. “I went ahead and wrote it in since they always come true,” she added. “So a wormhole is open somewhere right now?” Ant said, sounding appalled. “And we’re missing it?”

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“Well,” she said, “I assume it means a quarter-mile away from this house, but which way? Maybe by the lake, but then why not just say so? It could be anywhere—” A booming thunderclap shook the house. The three of them leapt up, spilling popcorn everywhere as picture frames shifted and fireplace ornaments jumped. The TV died, and the lamp by Liam’s rocker went out. The power came back on straightaway, but the three of them were no longer interested in the TV. They rushed to the glass doors. “Look at that,” Ant said. He yanked on the handle and stepped outside. Liam followed him out onto the deck. Peering up at the thunderclouds all around, he at first saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then he became aware of the yellowish hue directly over the house, and the odd, smoky formation that descended on them. “Yikes. Tornado?” he said, craning his neck. “Don’t know.” Ant wrinkled his nose. “Do you smell that?” Now that he mentioned it, the air did have a strange odor, a little like a match after it had been struck and burnt out. “Probably lightning hit something,” Liam muttered. “There is no lightning. Just thunder.” An icy chill had seeped into Liam’s bones. All this talk of tornadoes, lightning strikes, and a yellowish cloud had reminded him of his future vision. Could it be happening right now? They stood watching the curious storm, hearing occasional rumbles all around while the ominous formation grew larger, turning slowly. “Is it my imagination,” Madison said from behind them, “or is this storm coming down on us?”

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“I hope it’s not a twister,” Liam said, trying to shake off his dread. “Let’s get to a safer place.” Not one of them moved. Instead, they watched the approaching cloud with morbid fascination. More rumbles came, this time loud enough to rattle the chains of a hanging plant pot and cause the geraniums to jiggle. “I don’t think this is a twister,” Ant said. “It’s freaky, though. There’s no funnel, but it seems like the entire cloud is about to fall on our heads.” “It’s targeting us,” Madison murmured. To anyone else, such a statement would have seemed far-fetched, dismissed with a derisive laugh. But Liam, Madison and Ant had experienced enough bizarre phenomena that the suggestion of a storm cloud setting its sights on them was only mildly weird and certainly worth considering. A curious wailing made them jump. “What the heck is that?” Madison whispered, clutching the sides of her face. The noise came from somewhere in the descending cloud, which now smothered the top of the roof and spread outward far beyond the property. Seconds later, a ghostly shadowy figure tore overhead, a woman with a white face and streaming hair, her raggedy gown billowing and trailing behind as she whipped around in circles within the cloud. As Liam stared up in terror, he had the distinct impression she was screaming at him.

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Chapter 19

A hand gripped Liam’s shirt from behind and yanked hard, and he tumbled inside the house. The moment he was clear of the door, Ant shut it with a bang. The wailing abruptly ended. When Liam struggled free of Madison’s grip and pressed his face to the glass, the ghostly woman was gone. “D-did you see her?” he babbled. “Saw her, ruined my pants,” Ant retorted. “Was she a poltergeist?” “A banshee,” Liam said. “Can’t see her now, though.” “Banshee?” Liam shrugged. “That’s what she reminded me of. A faerie woman warning that someone’s about to die.” Ant grimaced. “If you say so. You’re the man when it comes to stuff like that. You with your books about everything from aliens to unicorns.” “This is bad,” Madison muttered. She was now taking cover behind the wall to the side of the glass doors, her shoulder pressed against a framed black-and-white photo of Liam’s great-great-grandfather taken in 1892. She pulled out her phone and tapped one of the speed-dial icons. “I’m calling Mom.” Immediately she frowned. “Wait—no service.” “Try the house phone,” Liam said, dashing to the bookshelf under the stairs where the cordless base was. He threw the handset to her, and she started dialing. “It’s crackling badly,” she said after a pause.

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No cell service was one thing, but there was something more personal about a messed-up landline. Maybe someone was just outside with an electronic scrambling device, or— Liam shook his head. Where on earth had that thought come from? The crackling phone line had to be something to do with the crazy, sulfurous atmosphere. But as he looked at Madison, he knew she’d had the exact same thought, and so had Ant. The thundercloud was shockingly low. Liam had never known one to touch the roof before. It was more like fog now, only fog didn’t drift down from the sky. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the storm was here for him. His friends, too. Everything in the immediate vicinity— the door frame, the deck, the pavement, part of the lawn— had a yellow hue. The house basked in an unhealthy, jaundiced glow under the swirling cloud. “What is this?” Ant demanded. His face was ruddy, and he was sweating. “What’s going on? Is this anything to do with your message, Maddy?” She pulled out her notebook and flipped it open. She thumbed past all the scribbled messages to the most recent. “4:03 PM. Liam's house. A quarter-mile away.” She sighed. “I get it now. The wormhole is at Liam’s house—but a quarter-mile above us.” Madison shot an accusatory glare at both boys in turn. “I’m telling you, it’s targeting us.” “Look,” Liam said, “Mom and Dad won’t be back for hours, and the phones don’t work. Maddy, shall we make a run for your place or what?” They hustled into the kitchen and crowded against the external door, peering through the somewhat smeared

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glass into the ghastly yellow daylight. It was getting harder to see. Outside, Madison’s house stood forty feet away beyond the five-foot hedge. Was her mom looking out a window? What did she think of this huge swirling cloud? “Is your dad in?” Liam asked Madison. “No, he's taking the truck back to my uncle up north. He took Cody with him so Mom could get some work done.” “Oh, right, yeah. I saw them leave.” Thunder rumbled, but it seemed more distant now. Whatever hung over the house was unrelated, a silent and mysterious anomaly. Liam turned the doorknob. Madison gripped his wrist tightly and glared at him. “What are you doing?” Ordinarily Liam would have been thrilled at her touch, even a painful grip like this. But right now he had other things on his mind. He shook her off. “Stand back. I just want to look.” Ant was right by his side as Liam pulled the door open and let in the powerful sulfurous smell. He wrinkled his nose as he stepped out onto the wobbly step his dad kept threatening to fix someday. The moment he did so, a deafening roar thundered in his ear, and he yelled and ducked as a gigantic blackness swooped over. He caught a glimpse of something solid, real, and very big, a flying creature with massive bat-like wings. Ant stumbled and fell in his haste to scramble back inside. As Madison helped him up, Liam’s attention was on the storm cloud. He fell to his knees and gasped as the thick, fog-like substance smothered the gutters and crept

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down the siding toward him. Hardly able to believe his eyes, he saw shadows flitting about in the swirling yellowish mass and knew it was teeming with . . . with things. Seconds later, the cloud swallowed up the top of the kitchen door. Ant and Madison crouched low, shouting and holding out their hands for him. Liam realized he was crawling around on the grass. As if bugs were biting his ankles, he leapt up onto the step and dived into the arms of his friends and the safety of the kitchen. Someone slammed the door behind him. When the three of them next gazed out, they had time to glimpse Madison’s house one last time before the cloud came down. As it did so, the inside of the kitchen turned a sickly yellow. Then utter silence fell. Liam blinked and shook his head, certain he’d just gone deaf. But his friends were doing the same thing, Ant going so far as to poke around in his ear. “What happened?” Madison whispered, her voice magnified tenfold. Nobody had an answer. They stood and waited, facing each other in a huddled circle by the kitchen door. Outside, the foglike substance pressed against the glass, thick and impenetrable. The only sound was the three of them breathing hard and the occasional squeak of a sneaker as someone shuffled nervously. Ant spoke first. “I wonder if Barton came back.” “Not if he had any sense,” Liam said. Ant pulled out his mobile phone and peered at it, then put it away. “Still dead. But he might be outside waiting on us.”

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Madison gawked at him. “You’re not seriously thinking of going out there?” The look of incredulity on her face would have been funny any other time. “Maybe if we’re quick we can skedaddle before they realize. While they’re organizing themselves.” Liam and Madison locked eyes for a second, sharing the same astonishment. “Who’s they?” Liam asked. Jabbing a thumb skyward, Ant lowered his voice. “Them. Up there. Whoever’s controlling that cloud.” He took the following silence as an opportunity to expand on his theory. “A wormhole’s opened, and someone has set this thunderstorm on us.” Liam had a less complicated theory. “It’s probably just an accident. Wormholes have been opening near us lately. But they don’t last long. We just need to wait it out for forty minutes. Then it’ll be gone.” He saw the flaw in his own suggestion right away, but it was Ant who voiced it. “What if the wormhole closes and the cloud’s still here? Visitors usually know the wormhole’s about to close, and they retreat before it does. But this is a cloud. It doesn’t have a brain. It can’t think for itself. What if the wormhole closes and it ends up trapped here over our heads with that thing flying about?” “You just said someone set it on us,” Liam argued. “Make up your—” A tremendous thump on the roof shook the kitchen. Silverware rattled in the drawer. Pots and pans clashed in the lower cupboard. Hanging spatulas, spoons and whisks jiggled on their hooks. Dust trickled from the five-bladed ceiling fan as it bounced and wobbled gently. Two seconds later came a roar. A motorcycle at full throttle in the compact kitchen wouldn’t have been as loud

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as whatever gargantuan beast straddled the roof. Liam’s neighbors half a mile up the wooded lane were no doubt rushing to their window to see what was going on. Next door, forty feet away, Madison’s mom must be frantic with worry knowing her daughter was being attacked by a— By a what, though? A dinosaur? A dragon? “Still wanna stick around?” Ant demanded, raising his voice above the racket emanating from above. It sounded like the roof was being torn off. And it probably was. “Not so much,” Liam admitted. “But we don’t know what’s out there!” Madison cried, wringing her hands. “And it’s foggy! And dark!” It was certainly foggy—if a thundercloud smothering a house could be classified as foggy—but it wasn’t really dark. Still, flashlights might be in order. As the ceiling split down the middle and debris showered them, Liam darted for the drawer that held lighters, matches, and other useful things. There were two flashlights, both small but powerful, and he threw one to Madison as he switched his on and headed for the door. The ceiling fan came loose, its fall arrested by half a foot of taut electrical cable. Another roar sounded, accompanied by thumping and tearing and snapping wood. With the continuous vibrations underfoot and frequent shuddering all around, everything in the kitchen was dancing. “I’m outta here,” Liam said, trying to quell the rising terror. “I’ll yank the door open and we’ll run, okay? Straight for the hedge.” He thought quickly and pointed with his flashlight. “The new gate Dad installed is that way. We’ll never squeeze through the hedge.”

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“Go, go,” Ant urged, gripping Liam’s free arm. Madison reached for Ant’s other hand, and with a chain formed, Liam pulled the door open and dashed out, dragging his friends with him. The flashlight did nothing. The fog-cloud was unrelenting, thick enough to bring on Liam’s abject fear of having his nose and mouth smothered. He’d always argued it was a healthy enough phobia, a very real aversion to actual danger, rather like the fear of heights. He normally scoffed at those who were terrified of spiders and pigeons, but right now he’d happily trade places if it meant navigating without fear this choking, sulfurous, yellow-tinted, swirling mass that blanketed his house and yard. The roof-monster bellowed again. Liam couldn’t help glancing back, and in the murk he saw a massive black shape, some kind of giant bat, its wings draped across the roof and deadly claws curled around the gutter.

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Chapter 20

Liam tore his eyes away from the ghastly monster on the roof and blundered onward, trying to concentrate on where he was going. His sense of direction was lost, and it took all his effort to put one foot in front of the other. The hedge had to be right ahead. He reached for it, the fog so thick that his flashlight, hand, wrist, and part of his arm was lost in it. Something rushed by from right to left, bumping his flashlight as it went. He felt something cold and wet on the back of his hand. He skidded to a halt and gasped at the hideous creature floating by—something the size of a sheep with a pudgy human face, a large rounded body that glistened and heaved, and dozens of thin, trailing tentacles. Ant was right beside him. “What was that?” “Don’t know and don’t care,” Liam said. “Let’s keep moving.” “It looked like a flying jellyfish.” “Is Maddy still with you?” “I’m here,” she whispered. She was no more than a shadow even from two or three feet away. “Then let’s keep moving.” Their nightmarish journey across the lawn took forever. Liam felt like he was moving in slow motion, trying to run underwater with a blindfold on while sharks swam easily toward him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so vulnerable, and his phobia made it worse. Still reaching

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ahead, his head tilted back in a pointless attempt to avoid the smothering cloud, he began to realize they’d gone off course. A squeal sounded to his left, high-pitched and angry. Deep, booming laughter came from the right, followed by the yip-yip-yip of something like a dog or perhaps a hyena. Or something . . . else. A buzzing creature as large as his head whipped around him. It had a squat, yellow-furred body with ten legs and a shiny black head. Liam ducked to avoid it, but it tore away even before he had a chance to cry out. Seconds later he crashed into the hedge and fell into it. Ant and Madison collapsed on top of him. He was right. They’d drifted off course and intercepted the hedge at a shallow angle. They’d probably veered diagonally across the lawn and missed the gate altogether. “Stay close,” he whispered, turning and shouldering past his friends. Here by the hedge, the yellow cloud was considerably lighter. Liam tried to peer through small gaps but saw only a hazy smudge. He hurried alongside, keeping the foliage close to his left shoulder, feeling a constant tug on the back of his shirt as Ant held on. He trusted that Madison was back there too, clinging to Ant’s hand. A snarl sounded mere yards away, and Liam picked up his pace rather than freeze. Whatever it was came into view briefly, a plump humanoid figure about his height, either bald or wearing a helmet, its face impossible to make out except for dark fuzzy shapes that might be enormous eyes. Liam reached the low picket gate and fell against it with relief, feeling for the latch. First Ant then Madison

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were right behind him, breathing down his neck. A deafening roar came from the house as the giant bat monster continued to tear through the roof. Almost at the same time, a warbling whisper floated down from above, a sound that gave Liam the heebie-jeebies. Something ten feet away howled. “Let’s go,” Ant pleaded, urging Liam forward. After a few steps, the haze faded, revealing actual daylight as well as the green grass and other darker smudges of reality. With relief flooding through him, Liam hurried away from the gate, dragging his friends with him. Blinking rapidly, he took in the wonderful sight before him—Madison’s house, standing in its neatly trimmed yard beneath a cloudy sky with rays of sunshine trying to break through. The three of them turned around. They were twenty feet from the hedge. On the other side, the eerie storm cloud rotated at a steady walking pace, hemmed in at the bottom by the leafy border but spilling over the top and spreading outward in the form of wispy fingers. Liam rubbed his face. “Okay, I’m just about ready to wake up now.” “Me too,” Madison said. She fished in her pocket and pulled out her notebook. How she could coolly write down the details of their encounter at a time like this was beyond Liam. His own mind was scrambled, his nerves fried, and she had to be pretty freaked out by the whole thing too. Perhaps her habit of recording everything calmed her. Or maybe she was made of sterner stuff than either of the boys. She murmured as she wrote. “Huge monster-filled

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storm in Liam’s backyard. Assuming what I wrote last night was accurate, the wormhole opened at 4:03 PM . . .” Liam and Ant exchanged a glance and waited patiently. They both knew Madison’s notes were important somehow, a record of their weird and crazy experiences. With all the dates and times carefully logged, maybe one day a pattern would emerge, providing them with a method with which to predict when wormholes would open and spew forth their demented denizens. She looked up. “Is all this our fault, do you think?” “You think someone’s got it in for us?” Liam said. “Why?” “Because you stole a time wand,” Ant murmured. “Well, technically speaking, I stole a wormhole wand, and that gravedigger Rock Dwarf gave me a time wand in exchange.” Ant snorted. “Which the Stick Insects sniffed out a mile away.” He reached out and tapped Liam in the middle of his chest. “What if the guy who shot you is annoyed because you haven’t delivered his message? Maybe he’s unleashing his fury on you.” Madison put her notebook away. “We’re all in this together. I really don’t want anyone finding out about our secret. If our parents figure it out, they’ll call in the authorities and we’ll be overrun by Government scientists, and nothing will be the same again. If this storm is our fault somehow, then we need to fix it.” She sounded so determined that Liam and Ant knew better than to argue. “Okay,” Liam said. “Wormholes are usually open about forty minutes, right? How long do we have left?” Ant pulled out his mobile phone. It showed 4:14 PM.

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Liam gaped. It seemed impossible that such a short amount of time had passed. “So we still have twenty-five minutes before it shuts down,” he said when he’d recovered from his surprise. “And traps all these monsters here,” Madison added. “Not sure I like that idea.” As if to punctuate her remark, several roars and screeches came from the fog beyond the hedge. “I want to see where the wormhole is,” Liam said. “It has to be above the cloud.” He craned his neck. “Can’t see a thing from here though. I’ll be back in a minute.” “We’re coming too,” Ant started. At that moment, a voice called from Madison’s house. “Are you guys okay?” Her mom was leaning out of the kitchen window. “Come in out of this awful fog. I’ve been trying to call you, Madison. Is your phone on?” “Yeah, but there’s no signal.” Madison dug her phone out of her pocket to show her, then did a double take. “Oh. Looks like there is now that we’re out of the cloud.” “And what about the house phone? Nobody’s answering it.” She broke off as the sound of splintering wood tore through the air. “What’s all that noise I keep hearing? What’s going on over there?” “A tree,” Madison told her. “It’s dropping branches everywhere.” Her mom frowned as more snaps and cracks filtered out of the gloom. “Branches? But there’s no wind! Oh, this fog is scary. I’ve never seen anything like it. I called your dad. He's nearly home, and he can see this cloud, says it’s a big patch of yellow mist on the horizon. He says it’s like a teardrop hanging from the clouds.” She went on to explain that she was trying to figure

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out who to report this to. Thick, yellow, isolated fog didn’t just appear out of nowhere. Maybe she should call the fire department . . . Liam whispered to Ant and Madison, “Keep her busy. I’ll be right back.” He jogged down the horseshoe gravel driveway until he reached the lane. His friends’ voices faded as he went, all manner of white lies slipping uneasily from their lips. Trees lined the narrow lane as far as the highway about a mile to his left and a quarter-mile to the right where it ended at the lake. Liam knew he wouldn’t see much of anything with all those overhanging branches, so he stopped at the very end of the driveway, turned about, and squinted up at the storm with an unhindered view. The cloud towered high above, far wider at its base. It was still hard to see properly though, so he hurried down the lane and peered up through the trees as he went. If it were a twister, it was the weirdest looking one he’d ever seen—a slow, silent rotation, standing upright like a mountain rather than inverted or tubular as tornadoes usually were. Above it, ordinary thunderclouds filled the sky—but the yellow cloud seemed oddly detached from it. Because it wasn’t a tornado. He reached the lake. The algae-covered marshes near the bank were swarming with dragonflies and pond- skaters. He considered climbing aboard his boat and rowing out to get a better look at the storm but decided that would take too long. The view was good enough from here. From this distance, both his and Madison’s houses were lost in the woods, but the curious yellow-tinted cloud rose high above. Now it looked rather like a teardrop just

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as Madison’s dad had reported. If there was a wormhole up there somewhere, it was invisible, either lost in the hanging cloud cover or just too hard to see from this distance. But Liam had no doubt it was there. This foglike mass had poured out of it and slowly spread outward. Right over his home. Appalled as well as intrigued, he hurried back up the lane and turned into Madison’s driveway. “There you are!” Madison called as she hurried down the drive to greet him with Ant in tow. “Mom’s calling the fire department. She thinks there’s a fire somewhere. And that giant bat thing has been at it again, tearing bits off your roof. We need to do something.” The fire department. A strange feeling passed through Liam again. First the yellow cloud, now the fire department. He’d seen this. Or at least the aftermath. And he knew everything would be okay except for the roof. He glanced up at the moving wall of cloud, half expecting the gargantuan creature to come hurtling out. Why hadn’t it already? For that matter, why hadn’t anything else emerged from the fog? “I went to the lake so I could see the storm from a distance. It’s definitely not a tornado.” “I told you,” Ant said. “It’s spewing out of a wormhole.” “Right,” Liam said. “What time is it now?” Madison glanced at her watch. “4:26.” “Closing in fifteen minutes then. And leaving all these beasties behind. Unless . . .” His friends tilted their heads and waited. Remembering what he’d seen in his short trip to the

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near future, he knew his parents would come home soon and talk to the fire department without a great deal of concern on their faces, which told Liam he and his friends would live through this. But there was no guarantee as to the safety of others in town if these creatures escaped. The idea that raced through Liam’s mind was foolhardy, crazy, and impossible, but he saw no other option. He jabbed a thumb toward the gate. “Come on. We need to catch us a ride.”

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Chapter 21

“This is nuts,” Ant muttered. Liam paused briefly at the threshold of the narrow gate in the hedge, then plunged deeper into the smothering yellow cloud. But Madison grabbed his arm, halting him in his tracks. “Ant’s right,” she hissed. “There has to be a less crazy way to get up to that wormhole.” “I’m listening,” Liam said. She stared at him intently, eyes narrowed. He waited. Finally she sighed. “I’ve got nothing.” Liam nodded. “That’s my house. Like you said, we need to do something. What if those monsters spread out and run off through the trees, invading homes and killing people?” “Maybe they’ll be sucked up into the wormhole before it closes,” Ant argued. Liam peered through the gloom. It was even darker and thicker than before. Something rushed by, a childlike body with a large head, giggling maniacally. Straight after that, a creature silently floated through the gloom. He didn’t get a good look at it, but it left a horrible stench in its wake. “That one,” Ant said, nudging him. Despite his reluctance, he recognized that something had to be done and that time was running out. “Hurry!” Ant plunged into the fog after the shadowy, floating creature. Liam and Madison tore after him. Though only a

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few yards behind, it was like following something in the periphery of the eye, frustratingly hard to focus on. “Stay close,” Liam told Madison over his shoulder. “You stay close,” she retorted as she put on speed and passed him. The floating creature—the flying jellyfish Ant had so accurately described earlier—veered left and started to ascend. It was onto them. Ant pounced and snagged one of its trailing tentacles. “Got it! Hurry!” Madison was on it next, her long legs flying up as she dove. Liam leapt into the fray a split-second later, not caring what part of the alien creature he grabbed hold of as long as he grabbed something. The three of them grappled with the struggling beast, and it flailed and turned, emitting a shriek. It bobbed up and down, tentacles trailing in the grass as Liam and his friends wrapped themselves around the hideous appendages and tried to keep their feet firmly grounded. “No, no, no, no, no,” the floating alien cried in its entirely too-human voice. “Yes, yes, YES!” Liam said. “Take us up.” “No, no, no—” “I said take us up!” The creature stopped thrashing and sank to the grass. Liam found himself kneeling and staring over the humped back at Ant on the other side, and at Madison near the rear end. The flying jellyfish was no longer flying. Its rounded, glistening body heaved as though suffering from shock. Keeping a grip on one tentacle after another, Liam crawled around to the front so he could talk to the creature face to face. He fought the urge to reel backward when he came across the ghastly features. It was definitely

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human—a round face with two ordinary, sorrowful eyes, a rather fat nose, and a mouth that turned down at the corners. It was like a man had been absorbed into this giant jellyfish, and now he looked out on the world from his repulsive body. “What are you?” Liam asked, knowing he had no time for answers right now. The creature offered no reply anyway. It stared at him wide-eyed, its mouth opening in a grimace as though waiting to be bludgeoned to death. “Never mind,” Liam said. “You need to take us up there. Up to the wormhole. Okay?” He jabbed his thumb skyward, and the jellyfish man frowned. “No hurt?” “No hurt,” Liam agreed, beginning to feel sorry for the thing. “If you take us to wormhole.” Ant and Madison hunkered lower, trying to wrap themselves up in tentacles ready for lift-off. “Quit trying to talk to it,” Ant gasped. “It can’t understand you.” “Sure it can,” Liam said. He glared at the creature. “So what about it?” “Too heavy,” the pudgy face said, its eyes darting from side to side. “Take one. No hurt. Take one.” “See?” Ant said. “Gibberish.” A thunderous roar came from the house, and a metallic clatter rattled across the lawn. It sounded like the gutter and drain pipe had come loose and crashed down. Three figures blundered by, each a different size and shape, one upright on two legs, the others scampering on all fours. The nearest, coming straight at Liam, had black fur and bristling porcupine quills across its back and shoulders. Whatever this foul, snarling, doglike beast was,

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thankfully it veered off in another direction. “You can only take one of us?” Liam said. “We’re not very heavy. Surely—” “I’ll go,” Ant said. “Liam, I’ve got this. Madison, stand back.” “No, this was my idea,” Liam told him, tightening his grip on two tentacles that trailed below the face like a thick, slimy beard. “Get out of here, you two.” He stared so fiercely at Ant that his friend dropped his gaze and nodded. “We can’t let you go by yourself—” Madison began. Ant came around and grabbed at her, pulling her roughly away. “There’s no time to argue. Let Liam handle this. Come on.” As soon as they backed off, hope flared in the jellyfish creature’s eyes. It rose quickly, pulling up its tentacles— and Liam with it. His feet lifted off the ground, and he hung on, gasping. “Don’t you dare drop me,” he warned. “Just fly straight up to the wormhole.” He got no response except for an unfathomable stare. Liam wished he’d thought to ram his feet into footholds so he wasn’t dangling like this. His fingers dug into the tentacles so hard that he was sure it must hurt the ponderous creature. It said nothing though, just shot upward like a helium balloon cut loose from its tethering. The cloud brightened. Something whipped by humming noisily, some kind of giant bug with spindly legs. Then a ghostly woman with trailing robes—the banshee—rushed toward him, her mouth wide open. As she closed in, her wails ripped through the air, hurting his ears, but he had no way to clap his hands over them to block it out. He shut his eyes tight instead, hoping the

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banshee would leave him alone. Something cackled hysterically somewhere below, and a frantic barking began. Up and up he went, and his ears began to pop. The cacophony of screeches and wails faded. At last he opened his eyes. The fog was still brightening, losing its yellowish hue. Liam rose into peace and quiet, clinging to the reluctant gas-beast. The wormhole appeared. It was a fuzzy darkness at first, but gradually it clarified into a perfect circle about fifty feet across, hanging in midair at a slight downward angle. As always, it looked like someone had pulled a plug so that reality was being sucked upward and out, forming a watery funnel that disappeared into blackness. The yellowish cloud was narrow here and so insubstantial as to be barely visible. The bulk of it had fallen to Earth under its own weight, taking with it a menagerie of curious animals. It was just unfortunate that the wormhole was directly above Liam’s house. Unfortunate? he thought. Yeah, right. The jellyfish creature seemed reluctant to enter the wormhole, but Liam was so afraid now, and his arms so tired, that he let loose with a string of expletives that surprised him. His ride rose and drifted sideways a little, angling into the wormhole. As soon as it crossed the threshold, Liam’s stomach dropped as the two of them were sucked inside. The usual race through a swirling tunnel lasted no more than a second or two. They emerged from the wormhole inside a vast square chamber illuminated in sickly yellow by hundreds of deep-set, ceiling-mounted

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light fixtures, each circular and glowing softly. The floor was a featureless shiny metal that reflected the yellow glow from above. The thirty-foot-high glass walls revealed similar rooms beyond, each filled with yellow fog and shadowy figures. Liam twisted around. The wormhole yawned across the room, a little to one side, filling almost two-thirds of the space. It was almost lying flat, giving the impression that a giant trapdoor had opened up in the floor. Beyond the wormhole, the fourth glass wall separated him from a corridor outside. Liam looked for an exit door somewhere, a way to escape this chamber. He was soon disappointed. There was no way out that he could see. The place was like a prison. A prison . . . The idea stuck. Okay, so all the beasties were jailed here, he told himself, and somehow a wormhole appeared and they all escaped. He floated there while his tentacled ride struggled to free itself from his grasp. He held on grimly. Since he was weightless, he had to assume he was in some kind of gigantic spaceship. The idea of it both thrilled and terrified him. The natural laws of pressure didn’t apply where wormholes were concerned, but they always tugged at reality anyway, so in this case the effect was similar; the wormhole had opened up like a breach in the hull and sucked the cloud out. And dumped a slew of dangerous beasts on Earth, right over his house. He allowed the gas beast to drag him around for a while. The chamber was so big that it took a full minute to

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float to the far end, and there the floating jellyfish creature bounced off the glass wall and began its slow trek back. It was then Liam took a good look at one of the adjacent chambers. The yellow cloud-fog pressed against the glass, silent and perfectly still. Within, the shadows of multiple creatures large and small stood or lay at random angles, frozen in time. “What is this place?” Liam asked softly. He received no response. The gas beast shifted its watery gaze from side to side, apparently preoccupied. Liam tried again, relaxing his grip on the tentacles a little. “Are you a prisoner?” Again, no response. Sighing, Liam turned about, trying to decide what to do. If this were some kind of holding cell, it explained the lack of exits. He was, in effect, as much a prisoner as his gaseous friend. The thought frightened him, and again he tightened his grip. He could throw himself back out of the wormhole, but without the gas beast he’d plummet to the ground and— He frowned. That wasn’t right. Not all the escaped creatures had wings. There had been plenty walking or scampering about on the grass. How had they fallen safely? They descended with the cloud. He shook his head. That would mean the cloud was substantial enough to cushion them somehow, and he found that hard to believe. Liam and his friends had walked around in it quite easily. It may be the thickest fog in history, but it was no more than that. Or was it? As the gas beast drifted across the chamber, Liam glanced from side to side at the neighboring cells.

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The fog certainly was thick, rendering all its captives motionless. Once released to the atmosphere, he guessed its heavier-than-air mass had fallen to ground, smothered his house, and spread outward, thinning all the time—and the monsters had woken. The question was whether or not the owners of this spaceship, the zoo keepers or whatever they were, knew their hull had sprung a leak and dumped some of its precious cargo. More to the point, would they do anything to retrieve it? “Hello?” he yelled. The gas beast jerked and thrashed its tentacles. He scowled at it. “Hey, calm down. I’m just trying to get someone’s attention.” He drew in a breath and yelled again. “HELLO? ANYONE OUT THERE?” Half a second later, every subdued green light in the chamber turned bright white, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the glare. A deafening klaxon sounded, much louder than the banshee and bat-monster combined, and he automatically let go of the gas beast and clapped his hands over his ears. By the time he opened his eyes again, his ride was halfway to the other end of the chamber, its rounded body heaving in and out, tentacles wriggling underneath. Liam sucked in a breath as red lights trained on him.

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Chapter 22

The red lights were blinding for a second, but when Liam squinted and looked down, he saw a pattern of crisscrossing lines across his entire body. He jerked about, frustrated by his weightlessness, unable to escape the scan. The laser lights shut off and the klaxon fell silent. A silence followed. Two robots hurried into view in the corridor beyond the glass wall. They were highly polished and about the size and shape of large human men. They had no legs, though. Instead, they floated easily along the hall. Liam heard nothing through the thick glass. He flailed his legs and arms in an attempt to move closer. He had no idea if they would help him or not, but it was worth a try. The robots arrived at a panel on the wall, one that was lit with an array of green and red, clearly some kind of control center. To his surprise, he recognized numbers. Ordinary, Earth-type digits illuminated in bright green: 2/65 He had no idea what the numbers meant, just that they were human. This seemed significant somehow. He’d read somewhere that math was the only true universal language no matter how far across the galaxy you traveled, that two plus two equaled four even if the symbols used to represent the numbers were utterly different. But to see ordinary, recognizable digits glowing from a control panel on this spaceship full of weird and wonderful creatures took him by surprise.

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2/65 What did it mean? The robots studied the display then spun to study him with their gleaming, featureless faces. Liam could see they were upset by the way they jerked around, evidently in some kind of panic mode. “Yeah, your prisoners escaped,” he said, his voice echoing softly. A flickering to the right caught his eye, and he twisted around to see the wormhole about to expire. Panic swept through him. He’d seen enough of them to know that he had mere seconds to get to it and escape. He had no chance. The robots raced about. One docked with the control panel by way of a rod that projected from its chest. Instruments lit up. Meanwhile, the second robot faced the glass to manually eyeball the situation. The wormhole flickered wildly then began to close, shrinking in size, imploding. When it was half the width, it halted and brightened again. Liam blinked. He’d never seen that before. Its closure had been arrested midway—by the robots. The gas beast, forgotten until now, wheezed across the chamber. “No!” Liam cried. “Don’t leave me!” The gas beast crossed the threshold and vanished in the blink of an eye, escaping to Earth. The robot facing the glass shook violently, clearly agitated. Over its shiny shoulder, the digits on the panel changed. 1/65 In a flash, Liam knew what the numbers signified. There were sixty-five prisoners in this cell, but only two life forms are registering on your computer at the moment, he thought. One now that the jellyfish has gone.

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He desperately wanted the readout to say 0/65, meaning he’d be on his way to Earth as well. Why had he come here? He’d achieved nothing except to alert these jail guards to the breakout. Flailing wildly again, he fought with his weightlessness and tried to inch his way closer to the wormhole. It wasn’t far, no more than twenty feet. In fact he was already moving because of his earlier contact with the gas beast; he’d let go when the klaxon sounded, and it was pure luck that they’d been moving toward the wormhole at the time. In the vacuum of deep space, inertia would carry him forever at the same speed. Here in this chamber he had air. The air kept him alive, but it also caused drag and slowed him down. Yet the wormhole, even at half size, was sucking greedily. Liam felt its tug, and he punched the air. “Come on, come on!” The klaxon sounded again. He covered his ears, wincing. What was the point of all that noise? The robots knew the situation, were already working hard to remedy it. What difference did a deafening alarm make? He realized seconds later that it must be an automatic warning. Thick yellow fog was hissing into the chamber from above, venting from what must be hundreds of tiny holes in the smooth ceiling. “No, no, NO!” Liam shouted. “I’m not a prisoner!” The robots ignored his pleas. They were intent on working at the control panel while the yellow fog slowly thickened. As it did so, Liam began to feel resistance as he flailed. Feeling like he was swimming in cotton candy, he worked up a sweat in his efforts to close the gap between him and the wormhole.

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It was working, but far too slowly. The air thickened with every passing second. His movements became more assured but, conversely, he felt more and more that he was becoming stuck. Fifteen feet. He was definitely closer. He had to pause for breath. As he did so, something flashed to his right. He twisted around, startled to find he wasn’t alone anymore. A black-furred doglike creature lurked in the chamber with him, thankfully over in the far corner. It roared at him and thrashed, whipping its long tail about. Its back and shoulders bristled with long, porcupine quills as it struggled to swim through the murky air toward him, its long, curved claws reaching for him . . . The creature was already fading from sight, becoming a shadow in the gloom. That didn’t stop it bellowing and thrashing, but Liam felt it would never manage to cross the chamber and cause him harm. Breathing hard, he returned his attention to the glass wall. The robots were still busy, and the display on the control panel had changed. 2/65 Another flash made him jump as a beam of pure white light shot out from somewhere behind him, perhaps from the ceiling, arcing across the chamber and straight into the wormhole. There, it bent wildly on its journey to Earth as though refracted through a glass prism. A shadow appeared, a small one about the size of a dog. Liam couldn’t make out what it was, but he took a long, deep breath and tried to settle his racing heart. Whatever the creature was couldn’t reach him. 3/65 Two more flashing beams shot into the wormhole, and

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the display changed again. This time the newcomers were close. One he recognized from earlier, a strange childlike creature with a large head, the other tall and skinny with four arms, a Stick Insect. Each squirmed and emitted alien sounds. Flash, flash, flash. Flash-flash. The beams of light were rapid-fire now, the prisoners being yanked back into their cell through some kind of teleportation system. No wonder the robots had wedged the wormhole open—they wanted their precious cargo back and couldn’t do that if the gateway closed down. Flash-flash. Before long, the number read 32/65 and was still climbing fast. The room was already half full. Even as Liam watched, the first digit shot up another five notches. Behind him, shadows loomed everywhere. The closest was mere feet away, almost within reach. He stared at it with distrust, and it stared back, a shaggy creature that looked like a yak with flippers. Just how random was this menagerie? What was to stop the vicious predators from tearing into the docile herd grazers? 47/65 It occurred to him that the prisoners had frozen. The fog was so thick now that Liam could barely see through the nearest glass wall. The wormhole, though, was close enough to see. He stared in amazement. He couldn’t be more than ten feet from it now. His heart leapt. The wormhole was sucking the fog out, dragging him closer. And no doubt more fog hissed into the chamber from above. It was a battle. Fog leaked out of the chamber almost as fast as the robots could pump it in. The obvious

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solution was to let the wormhole collapse, but then some of the cargo would be forever lost. 52/65 Another beam of light shot into the wormhole, fishing for fugitives. Liam tried to resume his swimming but found his limbs had locked up. He was absolutely helpless, hardly able even to blink. The fog pressed against his face and smothered his nose and mouth, and he began to panic at the inevitable suffocation to come. His phobia kicked in, and sweat trickled down his face as his hands and neck grew ice cold. Yet he continued to breathe easily, and his eyes— frozen open—seemed well enough lubricated that he had no need to blink. Suspended animation, he thought. That’s what this is. Some kind of stasis. All these holding cells full of monsters, frozen like exhibits being transported across the galaxy. And now I’m one of them. The digits changed again. It was with great effort that he managed to focus on them. His eyeballs seemed to be glued in place, but he was allowed a twitch at least. Enough to see that his fate was nearly sealed. 61/65 In his periphery, one of the shadows drifted closer to the wormhole, accelerating as it approached. Though utterly helpless, it was probably jubilant as it crossed the threshold and vanished back to Earth. 60/65 Liam tried to laugh but couldn’t. The robots were finding it increasingly difficult to find and latch onto the remaining fugitives. And while they dithered, the breach continued to suck at the cloud and its prisoners. Liam

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himself was drifting closer and closer, and he began to hope that he, too, would be free in just a moment. A beam of light and a flash. 61/65 Almost as soon as Liam saw the new total, a massive shadow followed in its wake. Liam tried to tear his gaze from the control panel and peer sideways, but the thick, misty substance prevented his eyeballs from swiveling. Still, he sensed that something enormous was right behind him. The bat creature had been nabbed. At least it’s not wrecking my roof anymore. Another flash, and a shadow appeared close to the glass where the robots were hovering. Liam could see this creature clearly because the fog was so thin in the vicinity of the wormhole. It was the gas beast. He couldn’t help feeling sorry for it. The poor, ugly thing was back. And the readout was close to full. 63/65 Liam mentally crossed his fingers. Come on, come on, just a few more feet and I’ll be dragged across the threshold. The wormhole yawned invitingly, and he wished he could just reach out and dive in. It flickered briefly but held solid, the swirling tunnel within sucking at the fog. Then it happened. With a thrill of excitement and relief, he sped into the wormhole, not for the first time feeling like he was entering a water flue at an amusement park. He drew in a sharp breath as he tore along the wormhole and shot out the other side. As quick as that, he was safe. Except that he was falling to his death.

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Chapter 23

62/65 This time he could only imagine the counter as he tumbled in midair, glimpsing endless woods, narrow roads, an enormous lake, and clusters of buildings before plunging back into the yellow cloud that had enveloped his house and yard. To his surprise and enormous relief, it buffeted him, slowed his descent. That strange, now almost comforting feeling of being smothered came over him. It must have been this way for all the prisoners as they came down earlier—coddled within their protective cloud, landing safely, then slowly working their way loose as the cloud spread out and thinned. On the way down, Liam jumped as a dazzling beam of light shot past him. It must have hit something below because a flash illuminated the dense fog. Another fugitive apprehended? 63/65 “Two more to go,” he said aloud, grateful to find his voice again. He felt a little pressure in and behind his ears, and he yawned wide, stretching his lower jaw and wiggling it about. One ear opened up with a rushing sound. Before he could work on the other side, he landed with a jolt on the grass. It knocked all the wind out of him, and he lay there on his back for a while, struggling to breathe. Then he gasped and wheezed and eventually sat up, shaking his head.

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The fog was definitely thicker, still pumping out of the wormhole above. In a matter of moments, the last two prisoners would be beamed up. Then the robots would allow the wormhole to collapse and it would be over. The fog would continue falling a little longer and slowly dissipate. Liam climbed unsteadily to his feet and looked about fearfully, trying to get his bearings. Where were those beams of light? He saw nothing except the grass at his feet. Feeling like a giant hand was about to snatch him back up into the sky, he stumbled a few paces one way, then another until he bumped into something that stood nearly his height. “Oh,” he said, surprised. It was the mailbox. Relief flooded him, and he laughed out loud. “Now I know where I am.” And so might the robots. His laughter died. He had to get out of this fog. Somehow he knew he’d be safe if he escaped the yellow cloud and made it back to Madison’s brightly lit lawn. He turned, took aim, and marched toward the hedge between his house and next door’s. The gate was there somewhere, and if he could— Two shadows lurched toward him. “Ant?” he called. “Maddy? Is that you?” It wasn’t. The shadows materialized out of the fog and revealed themselves as something entirely inhuman. One was a hulking bipedal figure wearing dull armor and leathery clothes, its face oddly doglike with its long muzzle and huge pointed ears. The other was smaller, a creature Liam had seen before—about his height, rather plump, wearing what appeared to be a spacesuit and helmet. Its head was round,

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its eyes huge. A permanent grimace revealed teeth sticking upward. “Oh,” Liam said. He licked his lips and glanced around, expecting a beam of light to shoot out of nowhere. “Look, I don’t want any trouble—” The plump figure grappled with him, throwing in a surprising amount of solid weight and pinning Liam to the grass. “I’m not going back,” the toothy spaceman growled. “You’re going back in my place. You stick with me.” Liam was too astonished to answer. While this alien held him down, the dog-face creature stood impassively, towering at six feet or more. It looked like some kind of Egyptian god. Math wasn’t Liam’s strongest subject, but even if the spacesuited alien found someone to replace him in jail, there would still be one missing. Only one out of three would get to stay on terra firma. The dreaded beam of light appeared. The dog-creature flinched and dodged sideways, its eyes widening. The beam flickered and repositioned, playing across the pointed ears for a split-second before a blinding flash caused Liam to squeeze his eyes shut. When he looked again, the dog-creature was gone. Only he and the spacesuited alien remained. “I’m not going back,” the thing snarled. “Get up.” Liam happily climbed to his feet. He was about to brush himself down when the alien lurched behind him and snapped a sturdy arm around his throat. Liam’s feet left the grass, and he clutched at the immovable arm, gasping. “Keep still,” his captor said softly.

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Liam squirmed in vain. “L-let me g-go!” He imagined the robots high above in their spaceship, studying the control panel, trying to get a lock on the remaining fugitive. 64/65 If Liam had been counted as one of the prisoners earlier, it was all too possible he’d be counted again. That beam of light, when it appeared, would take one of them no matter what. He doubted the robots would care which. Maybe they wouldn’t notice the difference. “W-what is that place?” he gasped, feeling utterly helpless. Perhaps conversation would distract the alien somehow. “An Ark. Stop moving or I’ll hurt you. The droids won’t care if your arm is broken as long as you’re alive.” “But why do they—” The dreaded beam of light shone down, blinding him for a second, playing across his face and chest. He jerked back and forth, fearing it was already too late, lashing out with the heels of his feet, jabbing backward, connecting several times. The alien held still, immovable, until something barreled out of the fog and launched itself at the two of them, knocking them both sideways. Off balance, Liam and his captor toppled over and crumpled on the grass. The arm-lock loosened. Liam wriggled free, then found his hair snatched in a painful grip. He yelled and squirmed. Standing over him, Ant looked terrified. Worse, the beam of light flickered toward him. “Watch out!” Liam shouted. The meaning of his warning may have been lost on his friend, but it had the desired effect. Ant leapt toward him,

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unknowingly ducking out from under the beam of light as he tackled the alien, trying to pry the gloved fingers from Liam’s hair. His scalp ached. He pushed his body upward, trying to relieve the pressure. It helped, but now he was closer to the alien, partially shielding him. The beam flickered over them all. Liam sucked in a breath. Ant froze, looking puzzled. The brightest point of the light was on Liam’s midsection. With a desperate cry, he rolled up and over, throwing his legs high, not caring if he ended up with half his hair missing. A flash of white, then momentum carried him all the way over and he ended up face down in the grass, gasping. When he looked up, only he and Ant remained. 65/65

* * *

The two of them sat up, too breathless to talk. After a while, a shadow emerged from the gloom. Liam jerked upright—then let out a shuddering sigh when he realized who it was. “Maddy.” “Are you guys okay?” she said, edging forward and shooting glances over her shoulder. “We’re fine,” Ant said. “Had a bit of trouble here for a second, but . . . the problem went away.” He raised an eyebrow at Liam. “Want to explain what happened?” “I will. But let’s get out of this fog first.” Madison snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. It’s spread all down the lane now, even out across the lake— and out the other direction to the highway. Police and fire

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department have blocked the route. Mom’s all upset because of the noises she heard coming from here.” Liam could imagine her wringing her hands with worry. “But she let you come back just now?” “Ant and I heard you yelling. He came running straight away, and I would have too, but I had to keep Mom away.” They trudged across the grass and found the fuzzy, looming outline of the hedge. The yellow fog was clearer here, and the gate revealed itself to them. Outside, Madison’s mom was calling. Ant grabbed Liam’s arm. “You need to tell us what happened up there.” He jerked his thumb skyward. “Last time we saw you, you were attached to a gas monster. Did you make it to the wormhole? How did you get back down here? What was that beam of light? That flash? Why did the spacesuit guy vanish?” Liam held up his hands. “Enough. I’ll tell you everything, I promise. And Maddy, you need to make some more notes. Let’s get this down while it’s fresh.” She immediately reached into her pocket for her notebook, then swung around as her mom called out yet again. “Mom, I’ll be right there!” Lowering her voice, she added, “I think she’s having a nervous breakdown.” “Never mind your mom having a nervous breakdown,” Ant said, squinting. The fog was clearing fast now, and through it Liam’s house began to reveal itself. “Have you seen the state of your roof, buddy? You know my dad’ll cover it if the insurance doesn’t, but how are we going to explain this?” “There’s not a single branch on the ground,” Madison said. “I can say I was mistaken about that, but then what?”

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Liam led the way through the gate. He glimpsed flashing blue lights through the haze, heard the shouted voices of firemen as they jumped down from the rumbling truck. He stopped his friends and glared at them. “It’s simple. We say nothing. We’re as mystified as everyone else. We were watching a movie, heard lots of noise, assumed a tree was falling, and got out. That’s all. Later, I came back to look around and got lost in the fog, and that’s what all the shouting was about just now. Got it?” Ant and Madison stared back at him, then nodded. “Good,” Liam said. “See? The aliens and unicorns are long gone. So unless you want to look crazy, just play dumb and everything will be fine.” Until next time, he thought.

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Chapter 24

When Liam called his parents and told them they needed to come home, they said they were already on their way because Madison’s mom had called them. They showed up a few minutes later as Liam and his friends wandered aimlessly around the lawn, checking out the damage to the roof. Even the fireman said it looked like a monster had clawed it to bits. Of course, they were joking. The fire chief kept frowning and scratching his head as he tramped about on the roof, peering down through at least five jagged gashes that revealed rafters below. As well as those gashes and some serious dents, the tile shingles were torn up in multiple places. There was no doubt the entire roof would have to be replaced. “My roof!” Liam’s dad exclaimed as he came running up the drive. The police car and two fire engines had blocked the lane. “What happened?” Liam went to intercept him, Ant and Madison in tow. “It was weird. A big yellow storm cloud. The firemen think it was a tornado of some kind.” His dad look aghast. “A tornado! Are you okay?” He looked around at them and reached out to clutch at their shoulders as if checking they were actually there. This reminded Liam again of his short trip to the future. There were too many fireman here at the moment; he recalled seeing maybe five or six, but right now there were nine, maybe ten. And his mom was still at the

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bottom of the drive, her hands to her face as she took in the damage. “So you’re all okay?” his dad asked again. “I can’t believe this. You were really lucky. The roof’s ruined, but it could have been much worse.” “My dad’ll pay for it,” Ant offered. “I mean, if your insurance doesn’t. Just saying.” Liam’s dad patted him on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Ant. I appreciate the offer.” But you won’t accept charity, Liam thought. Just for once, accept a helping hand and install a high-grade tin roof in case this happens again. By this time, his mom had made her way up the drive, still clasping her face. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you three alone. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you while I wasn’t there.” “It wouldn’t have made a difference if you were,” Liam told her, though the idea flashed through his mind that she might have become a target of the Ark robots. The idea of her being taken off in that giant space zoo filled him with horror. Soon after, the fire chief wanted a word with the parents. Liam felt a chill. The moment was here. He backed away across the lawn, suddenly wary of seeing a ghostly version of himself. “What’s wrong?” Madison asked, trailing after him as he edged across to the far side of the lawn, well away from the house and the firemen. “You look like you’ve seen a—” “Don’t say it!” Liam barked. He watched as his parents listened to whatever the fire chief was saying. Fading patches of yellow fog drifted

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across the lawn. Liam was certain this was the exact scene he’d witnessed with the time wand. The question was, where was his ghostly self right now? Probably standing over there somewhere, too intent on the house to look back at where Liam was huddled with his friends. He saw no sign of his time-traveling ghost. That made sense. If he’d been visible in any form, the doctors and nurses would have freaked out at the sight of an apparition in the corner of the delivery room during his birth. Still, the confirmation that his time wand actually worked played on his mind. That meant the other things he’d seen would happen too—staying the night on the floor of Madison’s room as well as flying through a wormhole dressed in armor and crashing down on a muddy riverbank. It made him want to try the wand again, to see what else was in store for him throughout his life. To see how long he would live.

* * *

An inspection of the house revealed that Liam’s parents wouldn’t be staying in their room for a while. Apart from a gaping hole that showed the sky above, ceiling debris littered the place. Liam’s room had fared better, but dust coated his bed from a crack right above. The kitchen was a dusty mess, and the living room ceiling, which looked undamaged at first glance, was in danger of collapsing due to the damaged rafters that pressed down like broken ribs on the flimsy sheetrock. His dad tried to make light of it. “Evacuate!” he shouted with a grin as they all bustled outside. “Seriously,

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nobody goes back in there until I say, okay? We’re staying somewhere else tonight.” At Madison’s house, Liam thought, his heart leaping. “We’ll get a hotel,” his dad went on. “Insurance will pay for it. I think.” “Aw, c’mon,” Ant complained. “Just for once, Mr. Mackenzie, let me help out. Stay at our house. We have about twenty spare guest rooms.” “That’s nice of you, Ant, but the truth is I need to be close to oversee the construction work. There’s a hotel in town, much closer than your place. Liam can stay with you though, if you like.” “Stay in our guest room,” Madison offered. “It’s right next door. You can look out the window and watch the building work. Much more convenient.” And I’ll sleep on your floor, Liam thought. “And Liam can sleep on the sofa in the living room.” Liam’s dad paused to think about that offer, and it was just a matter of time before the arrangement was all ironed out. Madison’s parents, Dr. and Mrs. Parker, were all too pleased to let them stay, which wasn’t bad considering they’d all met just a week ago. Sometimes, neighbors just clicked. Of course, a disaster often helped bring people together too. The police and fire department had long gone, but a local news van turned up that evening. A reporter wanted to do a piece for the late-night broadcast, and Liam’s dad obliged, standing out on the lawn with the house filling the background while the reporter interviewed him. “It’ll be on at eleven,” he said when the van eventually left and he returned to the Parkers’ kitchen. And so the two families—Ant included—joined

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forces for the evening. Cody wore himself out showing Ant and Liam all his toys, and after he was finally tucked up in bed, everybody breathed a sigh of relief. Since it was getting late, Liam’s mom insisted on calling Ant’s house to make absolutely sure his parents knew where their son was and that it was okay for him to stay out so late. She put the phone down a minute later. “Well, they’re pretty relaxed about everything,” she said. “They said you can spend the night too, if you like. I have a sleeping bag you can use, but I don’t have any boys’ pajamas that’ll fit you . . .” “Not a problem, Mrs. P,” Ant said, grinning. “I’ll have Barton run over here with some things.” Liam felt a surge of excitement. Pieces of the jigsaw puzzle were falling into place. He was certain he and Ant would end up on the floor of Madison’s room, and it had to be tonight because Ant’s sleepover was most likely a one-off event. The question wasn’t if it would happen but how it would play out. Despite everything that had happened, the evening was a success in terms of the two neighboring families forming a bond. The Parkers and Mackenzies talked nonstop, often with the two moms pairing off against the two dads. Liam, Madison and Ant spent much of the time rolling their eyes at the grown-ups and huddling together for their own private—and far more interesting— discussion. When 11:00 PM rolled around, they turned on the news with excitement, though Liam’s dad was already cringing. They had to wait a full twenty minutes for their slot because a damaged roof wasn’t big news even in this small town, but the segment was interesting nonetheless.

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Liam half expected the reporter to comment on “strange happenings in the Brockridge area” including “sightings of strange figures digging up bushes” and so on, but there was no mention of anything except the odd yellow storm cloud that had formed over one particular house and ripped its roof to shreds. Nobody reported strange noises, wails, growls, roars, flashing white lights, or anything else. If anyone had experienced such weirdness, they’d kept quiet about it. “Well, I’m done,” Madison said. “See you all in the morning.” “Night, sweetie,” her dad said. Her mom stood up. “I guess we’d all better turn in so these boys can get some sleep. One of you will be comfortable on the sofa, but I’ll have to find a sleeping bag for the other.” “Liam can have the sofa,” Ant said, yawning. He’d always been a lightweight when it came to staying up late. The moms bustled around arranging bedding while the dads retired to the garage to talk about lawn mowers, their current very boring topic. “Hey, guys,” Madison said, pulling Liam and Ant together at the foot of the stairs. “I know this might sound weird, but I had an idea. Since you’re in the house, this might be a rare opportunity to capture some sleep writing on film. If I sleep write, that is.” Liam’s mouth fell open. So there it was—the last piece of the jigsaw falling into place. Ant’s mouth fell open too, but for a different reason. “You want us to watch you sleep?” “Well, not really watch,” Madison said, frowning. “That would be a little creepy. But . . . just maybe keep

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watch and start filming if I sleep write.” “All night?” She pursed her lips. “Not all night, no. For starters, you won’t be able to sneak into my room until the parents are asleep, which is going to be well after midnight at this rate. And secondly, I’m fairly certain most of the sleep writing is done an hour or two after I fall asleep.” “How do you know?” Liam asked. She reddened. “Because I always have to get up and use the bathroom, and if there’s going to be a message, that’s when I usually find it. Not all the time, but mostly.” “Okay,” Ant said, nodding. “So we just need to stay awake a couple of hours.” “And watch you,” Liam said, narrowing his eyes and grinning. He hunched over and looked around shiftily, rubbing his hands together. “Watch you while you sleep.” “Stop that,” she ordered. “Don’t make me regret this.”

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Chapter 25

As Madison had predicted, it was well after midnight by the time the dads emerged from the garage, trying to keep their booming voices low. They leaned over the sofa, and Liam feigned sleep, wishing they’d hurry up and go away. They did so, whispering goodnight to each other. After another five minutes of small noises—mostly shuffling around in bathrooms—the small glows from the guest room downstairs and the master bedroom upstairs clicked off and all fell silent. “About time,” Ant murmured from the floor. “I hope Maddy hasn’t fallen asleep already and written a message,” Liam said. Ant rolled up his sleeping bag and paused when he realized Liam was watching him. “What? It’s cold. If we’re going to sit up for two hours on watch, I want to be warm.” Liam nodded and said nothing. They crept upstairs and tiptoed past the master bedroom, then past Cody’s den to the end where it said BY INVITATION ONLY on the door. Liam liked that. It hinted at Madison’s interest in vampires. “Can’t believe we’re doing this,” he whispered. “Should we knock?” “You’ll wake everyone if you do,” Ant warned. Instead, Liam jiggled the handle a little more than necessary as he pushed the door open, and took his time entering. The room was, not surprisingly, in darkness. He

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edged into the room, seeing a queen-sized bed pushed into the left corner, enormous posters on the walls of figures he couldn’t quite make out, a dresser on the right near the window, and an armchair in the corner behind him. It was a small but neat room as far as he could tell in the gloom. Moonlight slanted through the window; the curtains were open, so either she’d done that so the boys could see better, or she just liked it that way. Madison herself, bundled up in bed, was just a shapeless lump under her thick quilt cover, her black hair plastered across a white pillow. A notepad lay next to her. Ant took up a spot near the wall and climbed into his sleeping bag. Just as I expected, Liam thought. He discovered a blanket folded neatly on the armchair behind him. He thought about sitting in the chair but found that it was old and creaked quite badly, so he migrated to the floor and lay down on his side. “Phones on standby,” Ant whispered. He had his out, ready to switch on and film if Madison stirred. “Are you settled?” Madison said, making Liam jump. “Uh—yeah,” he said. “Good. I’ve been struggling to stay awake in case you miss it. See you in the morning.” Liam and Ant whispered their goodnights, and all went quiet. The clock on her bedside table read 12:56 AM. Liam remembered that it had read 2:05 AM when he’d shown up here in ghost form, so there was over an hour to go. He tried to recall whether he’d seen a message on Madison’s notepad at that time. He didn’t think so—which meant the next hour would be uneventful.

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He thought about setting an alarm for 2:00 AM but was afraid it would wake Madison, which would defeat the purpose of the stakeout. He resolved to stay awake instead. And as he drifted off, he realized he’d already foreseen that he and Ant would be sound asleep by the time 2:05 AM came around. Unless he actively changed the future, there was no way for him to witness his own ghostly appearance. If there was any sleep writing going on, he would probably miss that too.

* * *

He dreamed about dropping his phone. He clutched at it, feeling it slip from his grasp. Or was someone trying to take it from him? He jerked awake and lay there blinking in darkness. Where was he? Why was his bed so uncomfortable? Then he remembered, and he bolted upright with a gasp. Madison’s clock read 2:06 AM. Liam had literally just missed his ghostly appearance, or lack thereof. As it happened, it was probably his astral self that had stirred him. Wide awake, he crawled over to the bed and peered at the notepad on Madison’s pillow. It was blank. A pencil lay next to it. Her face was half buried in the pillow, her hair tumbling everywhere, the quilt pulled all the way up over her shoulder. Sound asleep with the quiet, shallow breaths. Behind him, Ant had a nose whistle. Liam crawled back to his position on the floor and sat cross-legged,

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wondering how long to keep watch. Until 3:00 AM, maybe? His eyelids felt heavy already. He sighed, deciding that a career as a private detective was out of the question. The stakeouts would ruin him. Madison stirred. He blinked awake again as she fumbled. It took a moment for Liam to realize that she was simply trying to free her hand from the cover, and when she did, her fingers reached out, feeling for something. The pencil. Stunned, Liam stared with his mouth hanging open. She picked up the pencil and, apparently sound asleep, began to scrawl on the notepad, one awkward, clumsy letter at a time. Liam shook himself into action. Quietly, he snatched up his phone and thumbed it on, crawling closer as he did so. The screen lit up bright, and he activated the camera. It was too dark for such a rudimentary device, and the screen showed nothing but grainy black. He reached for the bedside lamp, hoping the blinding light wouldn’t wake her. Just to be safe, he pulled the lamp down onto the floor, stretching the cord as far as it would go, so that he could shield the light somewhat and shine it on her gradually. By the time he’d done all that and started recording, she’d finished writing the first word and part of the next. He stared in amazement. Liam, th Frozen to the spot, he watched as the next letter formed. And the next. And the next. Liam, this one is for you. Shaking, he lowered the camera.

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Madison was still sound asleep. She might be playing a prank on him, and if so, it was a good one. But her eyes were tight shut, and the position of her notepad, the way she clutched the pencil, suggested she’d never be able to see what she was writing even if she were fully awake. He watched her closely anyway, looking for signs of lucidity, a smirk, something. Her breathing was still shallow. Only her hand moved, as if being controlled by some external force. More of the message appeared. Madison had even started a new line. Liam, this one is for you. Visit the futu The hand started on the next letter, though Liam knew it would be an ‘r’ followed by an ‘e.’ Visit the future? Why? When? During the next minute, Madison finished the message and her hand suddenly relaxed. She still clutched the pencil, but her fingers were limp and it teetered to one side. Whatever had possessed her was gone. Liam, this one is for you. Visit the future. Your death. See me there. Don’t tell the others.

* * *

Liam slipped out of the Parkers’ house and across to his own, taking the shortcut through the gate in the hedge. He was shivered with nervous anticipation. Seeing his own death was not something he wanted for himself, but how could he not after a message like that? He’d quietly torn the message from Madison’s

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notepad and stuffed it in his pocket. As far as she and Ant knew, nothing had happened. The front door was locked, but the back doorframe was damaged and its door hung ajar. Liam squeezed through and headed down the hall to his room. The house felt strange, being so empty, especially with the starry night shining through the ceiling in places. Rain wasn’t predicted for a few days. Tomorrow the contractors had promised to come out and start prepping for work, and at the very least throw a tarpaulin across the roof. Liam dug around in his bottom drawer and found his time wand. Then he headed to the garage and pulled Ant’s portable generator out from behind the gardening tools. He yanked on the pull-cord and fired it up. For a moment he fretted over the amplified noise in the darkness of the garage, but he doubted it would wake anybody next door. He set up the generator on the workbench, laid out the cords, and touched the bottom end of the wand to the positive terminal. The wand lit up blue, and the dial slowly turned to its startup position. Liam twisted it all the way to the very end, resting the wand shakily against the positive terminal. When he was ‘gone,’ his arm would probably relax a little, and resting it on the terminal like this would ensure an uninterrupted visit until he was ready to come back. With dread, he clicked the greenlit button. Instantly he found himself in a place of quiet. A bedroom. He frowned, recognizing it as the Parkers’ guest room next door. He’d glimpsed it just a few hours ago during a quick tour of the newly furnished house. By the bed, a woman sat on a chair with her back to him. Her grey hair was pulled up in a bun inside a hairnet.

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She wore a dressing gown though it was daytime. Liam peered out the window, seeing that the sun was still low in the east. Early morning. He drifted into the room, edging around the woman until he saw an old man lying in the bed. He sucked in a breath. Though the man was wrinkled and completely unrecognizable, Liam knew this must be him, his future self. He’d just died in his sleep. Seeing himself like this didn’t affect him the way he’d expected—no revulsion, just sadness. Probably the manner of his death helped. He looked so peaceful. The old woman was clutching his right hand in both of hers, and tears flowed down her cheeks. The covers on her side of the bed were tossed aside as though she’d got up in a hurry—probably because her husband was gasping for his last breath. Liam’s head spun. Husband? If this old man was him, then the old woman was his future wife. She stiffened as if sensing his sudden scrutiny. “Are you there?” she whispered. “Have you come?” Unable to speak, Liam just stared and stared. The old woman nodded and patted her husband’s hand, then slowly, slowly climbed to her feet. She looked around the room, clearly looking for something—or someone. “Young Liam, my dear, I know you’re here. You’re here because I asked you to come.” Still Liam didn’t know what to say. And it wouldn’t make a difference if he did, because he was a ghost. The idea of being a ghost—right here, right now— struck him as oddly fitting. He’d literally just died, and now it must seem to this old woman that his soul had left his body.

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“We’ve already said our goodbyes,” she said, turning in a slow circle, trying to pick him out. “We’ve been saying our goodbyes for months. Last night was our grand farewell. Then we fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was perfect.” She smiled, though tears still trickled down her face. “I just wanted you to know, my young Liam, that we had a wonderful life together. Or you and a younger version of me will have a wonderful life together.” “Who . . . who are you?” Liam whispered. She didn’t hear. Turning, she signaled for him to follow. “Come with me. I need to show you something.”

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Chapter 26

The old woman shuffled out of the bedroom and along the hall to the living room. It was vastly different to the room in which Liam had spent the evening watching the eleven o’clock news. The furnishings were surprisingly modern for an old couple—sparse and simple, functional, all curves. There was hardly any clutter, as though knick- knacks and ornaments were considered old fashioned eighty-odd years from now. But the biggest change was the floor. Where once had been polished hardwood boards, now there was a seamless hard material, white and a little shiny. She eased herself down into a rocking chair, then looked around and gestured for him to sit. He did so, sinking through the sofa a little. Even so, the cushions depressed very slightly under his near weightlessness, and the old woman’s eyes opened wider. She smiled. “Well, now I know where you’re sitting. Good.” Her mood changed, her smile slipping. “Now pay attention. This is important. I don’t know what will happen if we mess things up. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.” She leaned sideways. On the small coffee table to her side was a stack of journals, maybe a dozen of them. The one on top was the most ancient. Next to the stack was what looked like a dull, silver-colored pen. Liam gasped. It was his time wand. “You and I have had a lifetime of adventures, young Liam. You, me, and Ant. Wonderful times. Dangerous,

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yes, and often scary. Often we wondered how we were going to get out of a scrape, but of course we always did. Ant, too. We probably would have run away from danger a lot more than we did if we hadn’t known that we would live to a ripe old age.” Her words only half registered. He’d gotten stuck on one particular thing she’d said: You, me, and Ant. “M-Maddy?” he said. “Maddy, is . . . is that you?” When he next looked into her eyes, he saw that she was indeed his new neighbor, friend, and yes, his crush. As wrinkled and old as she was, there was no doubt this was her. Madison was Liam’s future wife. “It must be shocking for you to see the manner of your death,” she said, “but I brought you here simply because your death is a good one—peaceful and in your sleep.” She smiled, tears welling up again. “Is there such a thing as a good death? Of course there is. We all must die someday, and what better way to go than in our sleep after a long, wonderful life of happiness, adventure, and love?” Liam closed his hands over his ears. Unfortunately, his hands were as insubstantial as his body and he continued to hear everything Old Madison said. “The funny thing about time is that it can’t be changed. You’ve now seen your death, young Liam, and you can’t ever forget it. So now you’ll go forward with your life knowing you’ll live to the age of—” She pursed her lips. “Well, let’s say eighty or more, shall we? Which means no matter what happens to you, no matter what danger you end up in, you’ll know you won’t die a horrible, painful death. You’ll never suffer the burden of fearing for your life.” This gave Liam pause.

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“And since you’re here now, listening to me while your poor old body lies at rest in the next room, you know that I’ll outlive you and will be by your side throughout your life.” She picked up the time wand and gazed at it. Liam swallowed. Forgetting that she couldn’t hear him, he whispered, “And . . . what about Ant?” After a long silence, she sighed and put the wand down again. “I remember the day the great yellow storm cloud came and tore up the roof, and you stayed the night here. Right here in this living room. The next morning you were all out of sorts like you knew a great secret. Ant and I pestered you about it, but you wouldn’t relent, and I was quite put out.” She tried to focus on the place Liam sat. She had only the slightly flattened cushion to go by. “Whatever you do, young Liam, please don’t tell me about this visit. Keep it to yourself. Be unrelenting and annoying.” She smiled. “I promise that my younger self will get over it. You see, if you go back and tell me about this one-sided conversation I’m having right now, and if time can be changed somehow, then the life I remember might end up . . . different. I don’t want to risk that.” Liam struggled to get his head around the idea of changing her memories. Meanwhile, she reached for the first journal and brought it up onto her lap. She flipped through several pages, then smoothed out the aged, yellow paper. “I started going through these old journals. This is the first. Volume One, you might say. I spent much of my life sleep writing, never understanding where I was getting the information from but grateful for it anyway. All those

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messages I wrote in my sleep formed the basis of our adventures together.” Liam waited, knowing she was getting to something important. “It wasn’t until you—that is, my dear husband—dug up the time wand from the backyard that I had a revelation. You buried it, you see, right after the yellow cloud incident. Ant and I forgot all about it, but you . . .” She shook her head. “When you started getting ill, you realized your time on this world was nearly done. You dug up the time wand one morning and brought it inside. Oh, the memories! We spent a few weeks zipping into the past and revisiting our adventures, spying on ourselves. Far better than photographs.” “I buried it?” Liam repeated. “Wait—so I’m going to bury it? When I get back to my time?” Once again she ignored him. “A few days ago you told me what I needed to do. You’ve always known, you sly old dog.” She frowned. “Or sly young dog. This time- twisting thing is confusing, isn’t it?” “You’re telling me!” Liam couldn’t help voicing his thoughts even though she was essentially alone in the room. She would tell him at her own pace what she wanted him to know. “One thing I figured out that you never could,” she said, “is how to manipulate the real world while in ghost form. I’ve become quite adept at it.” “I managed to move my phone,” Liam said, forgetting himself again. “And this cushion sank down a bit when I sat on it.” “Another thing I’ve become adept at,” the old woman went on, “is zeroing on a specific date, even an exact time.

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It’s not just about twisting the dial, you see.” She tapped the side of her head. “It’s all in the mind.” Liam sighed. “Why are you telling me this?” The old woman tapped the open journal. Intrigued, Liam got up to look over her shoulder. 4:03 PM. Liam's house. Quarter-mile away. Huge monster-filled storm in Liam’s backyard. All kinds of weird creatures descended on us from the sky. Liam had the bright idea of riding a gas beast up to the wormhole. He alerted the robots in ‘the Ark’ that their prisoners had escaped. They snatched them all back up. Wrong or right, this was better than letting them run loose on our street. His eyes widened. Madison had finished writing this mere hours ago and yet here it was, the ink fading on the yellowed page. The old woman lifted the time wand. “I’m so glad I was meticulous in copying the messages into the journals. Now I know exactly what to write in my sleep when I pop back in time.” “The time wand won’t work,” Liam said, immediately focusing on the practicalities of using the tool rather than the mind-bending concept of what she proposed. “It needs—” “Boost power, please,” she said softly. The moment she said the words, something in the room beeped softly and a hum came from below the floor. Liam looked down in surprise. The hard white floor glowed softly. Her time wand lit up blue. The dial turned slowly until it was nearly all the way around. Now that it was attuned to her, a relatively tiny slice of life remained. Instead of reaching up to twist the dial, she simply stared at it. The dial began moving again, turning much of

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the way around to other side. Old Madison’s eyes glazed over and her jaw grew slack. She was gone, astral projecting or ghosting or whatever the correct terminology was. Her right hand began to twitch. She seemed to be writing something with an imaginary pen. Liam let out a long sigh, picturing a younger Madison back in her room, bundled up in bed at night, her own hand clutching a pencil and scrawling the message on the notepad, guided by her future self. A minute later, the old woman blinked awake. “Power down,” she whispered. She placed the time wand on the open journal and looked toward the sofa. Liam hurriedly sat so that when she spoke again, he felt she was looking directly at him. “That’s another one done. It’s very difficult, which is why the messages are so brief and untidy.” She frowned. “This one could have been a little less cryptic, but I’m afraid to change what’s already etched into time.” She shrugged and turned to the next page. Liam stared at the fading glow in the smooth white floor, his mind reeling. “This isn’t possible,” he muttered. “How did you know where and when these events were taking place? You can’t go back in time and tell yourself something you couldn’t have known in the first place. That’s just . . .” She said nothing but looked up from her journal, a faint smile on her lips. She spoke as if answering him, though she probably just had a good idea what he was fretting over. “You should probably go back now, young Liam, before your head explodes. And do me a favor?” She gestured at the journal.

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“Don’t tell my younger self about what I’m doing here. I’m not due to figure it out for another seventy years or so.” She winked. “Let’s not spoil it.”

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Chapter 27

Liam felt it was time to go. He had a dozen questions, but she couldn’t hear him to answer them. Maybe that was for the best. He was already straddling a thin line between what he needed to know and what he absolutely should not know. As the bright living room faded, replaced by the darkness of his dad’s garage, he returned to his physical body and felt suddenly heavy as though climbing out of a pool. He carefully put the time wand down on the bench and flexed his sweaty fingers, then stamped his feet. When he shut off the portable generator, he stood and listened. Silence. Everybody was still asleep. He fished in his pocket for the message Madison had written. Sitting on an upturned bucket, he read it again. Liam, this one is for you. Visit the future. Your death. See me there. Don’t tell the others. He pondered over it for a long, long time, unmoving. He wished the old woman had confirmed that Ant would live a long time as well. She’d hinted he would, but if he had actually died a horrible death in his twenties or thirties, she probably would have kept that to herself to spare Liam the heartache and worry. “You and I have had a lifetime of adventures, young Liam,” she’d said. “You, me, and Ant.” He had to cling to that. The alternative was to change the future. He could

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destroy the time wand or throw it away instead of burying it. If he couldn’t dig it up in the future, Old Madison wouldn’t be able to pop back in time and write all those sleep messages, and then none of them would ever know anything about wormholes. Only then Liam couldn’t have seen what he’d already seen: the old woman cradling the journal and time wand, talking about all the wonderful adventures they’d had together . . . Around he went, his mind spinning. When he finally checked the time on his phone, he could hardly believe it was 4:13 AM. Blearily, he rubbed his eyes and stood up. He rummaged around until he found a cheap lighter and held it up to the bottom corner of the mysterious message he still clutched in his hand. He re-read the final line: Don’t tell the others. It started here. With a sigh, he thumbed the lighter. The flame licked high, and the paper blackened and curled. He let it fall to the concrete floor and burn. When it was a collection of small fragments and ashes, he swept them aside with his foot. Grabbing the time wand, he headed next door.

* * *

Ant was still asleep on Madison’s floor. Liam carefully woke him. “Shh. Come on. We need to go downstairs.” Rubbing his eyes, Ant took a moment to realize where he was. He bolted upright. “Did she write anything?” “No. It’s a washout. Let’s go.”

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He felt bad about lying. As they tiptoed downstairs to the living room, Liam knew he’d have to get used to that if he planned to live his life with Madison without upsetting the fundamental laws of time and changing history—if indeed he could do such a thing. If he told Madison about the message she’d written, she’d guess he would have followed up and visited the future, and he’d have to tell her all about it, and then she’d learn everything she was not supposed to know. Her knowledge would change, and if that happened, she might make different choices, and even the tiniest alterations, the slightest deviations from her path, might affect the way life played out. It was the theoretical ‘butterfly effect,’ where even the slightest ripple in a calm lake could lead to larger ripples farther out. He was terrified of changing what promised to be a fabulous future. And with Madison as his wife. “Can’t believe that was a wasted opportunity,” Ant complained as they returned to their assigned beds for the night. “Well, she doesn’t sleep write every night,” Liam said from the sofa, pulling the covers up over him. “I’m tired. See you in the morning.” Ant mumbled on about something for a while, but Liam was already asleep.

* * *

They performed a solemn burial ceremony in a hidden corner of Madison’s yard, behind some bushes and under an oak tree. She was already puzzled. “But why bury it in my yard and not yours?”

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Liam shrugged as he worked the shovel. “I figure your house is newer and bigger and more likely to be here longer. I want this time wand to be safe in case we want to dig it up in the future.” “And we’re burying it why?” Ant asked, equally puzzled. “Because it’s dangerous. I thought about it a lot last night, and I think I’ve been an idiot. Seeing the future could be bad.” He paused. “I saw the firemen wandering around the yard before it happened, and it rattled me. I saw myself flying through a wormhole wearing a futuristic suit of armor, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. We can’t go through life with stuff like that on our minds.” Madison scowled. “I happen to agree. I just don’t like the way you’re making this decision without us.” “Yeah,” Ant said. “And what’s wrong with visiting the past? I didn’t even get a chance to use it. I wanted to pop back and see myself as a kid. It would have been fun to—” “It’s overrated,” Liam said shortly. He tossed the shovel aside and picked up the small plastic box. Inside, wrapped in a cloth, was the time wand. “You have to trust me on this. Leave it for now, okay?” Seeing their disgruntled expressions, he added, “It’ll always be here for us later. After we’ve had a bit more experience with all this wormhole traveling.” He bent and placed the plastic box into the hole. “I suppose you’ll be burying the recorded message as well,” Ant grumbled. Liam had started pushing dirt onto the plastic box, but he paused again. “No. Actually, I wanted you to listen to it again.”

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He pulled the small metallic recording device from his pocket and sat on the grass with his legs crossed. Ant and Madison, unable to help themselves, sighed and joined him. “I’ve been playing the recording all week,” Liam said, “and I’ve been catching new words here and there like they’re hidden behind the gibberish if you listen hard enough. But now the whole recording is in English.” “Play it!” Ant demanded. Liam smiled and thumbed the button. You won’t understand this message for a day or two, the giant’s rumbling voice barked. Your translator needs time to kick in. When it does— “Whoa,” Ant said over the recording. “It’s still gibberish.” Liam stopped the playback. “Ah. Okay, I figured you’d say that. Maddy?” She shrugged. “It’s the same as it was before. Like Ant said, complete gibberish. You can understand it?” “I can. Let me translate it.” He restarted the recording, and this time he spoke over it, stopping and starting when he needed to catch up. To his ear, though, it was perfectly clear: You won’t understand this message for a day or two. Your translator needs time to kick in. When it does, your brain will hear an approximation of what I’m saying. It works for most of the cosmos, but I warn you, sometimes there are misunderstandings. Wars have been waged over poor interpretations. Listen up. I don’t know where you got the echo projector, but my scouts sniffed it out right away, and I’m sure others have too. That thing is like a homing beacon.

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You’re just a Class D planet, my friend. Up-and-coming, great potential, but still learning to walk. Maybe in a few decades you’ll be ready to step up, but right now you’re attracting unwanted attention. When a nothing-planet emits a signal like that, people want to know about it. They want to know who’s new in town. They want to know if your planet is worth trading with, maybe even colonizing. Consider me a good guy of human origin. They’re not all as nice as me. My advice is to get rid of the echo projector . . . except it’s too late for that. The damage is already done. You’ve visited your future, and now that signal echoes through your timeline the way an elevator rises through hundreds of floors in a skyrise. You should have stayed on the ground floor, kid. You should have stayed in the present. Whoever gave you that echo projector was probably glad to be shot of it. Be warned. Some of the scum out there in the cosmos will have eyes on you already. Anybody whose timeline stretches into the future is useful. If you saw yourself alive and well years from now, it means you can’t die until then. Somebody out there will put you to the test, maybe throw you into danger to see how unscathed you are when you wriggle free. You’ll live, of course. And then you’ll be a target for something bigger. Good luck, kid. Welcome to the cosmos. When Liam finished his translation of the translation, his friends sat open-mouthed for a long time. Then Madison leaned forward and poked him gently in the middle of the chest. “That’s your translator? Where you were shot?”

204

He nodded. “Guess so. It must have kicked in while the cloud was over the house yesterday. I could understand some of those creatures we met. The gas beast? And the spacesuit alien that we scrapped with? Even the robots on the Ark. I could read their computer screens even though they were probably filled with funky alien symbols or something.” He sighed. “So it sounds like somebody opened a wormhole deliberately and let those monsters out of the Ark.” “Told you we were targeted,” Madison said. Ant sighed and hung his head. “Liam, you’ve gone over to the Dark Side, my friend. You stole from aliens, you’ve been to the future, and now you have a universal translator in your chest.” He rubbed his chin as though an idea had just struck him. “Does that mean you can speak Spanish and other foreign Earth languages?” “Speak it? I don’t know.” Liam thought back to the gas beast and the spacesuited alien, with whom he had conversed to some degree. “I guess it works both ways?” “And the ‘echo projector’ is the time wand?” Madison, staring down into the freshly dug hole. The plastic box was half covered. “What does he mean it’s too late? We’ve hardly used it!” Liam opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Jumping into the future to witness his death had obviously left a contrail of energy through time, an ‘echo’ spanning most of his life. And that was just one trip. Old- age Madison had used it multiple times to visit her younger self in the past. Only he couldn’t tell her any of that. “So does this mean you’re invincible?” Ant asked him, wide-eyed.

205

Liam stared at the ground. “I guess.” “Until when?” “Huh?” Ant was looking at him intently. “Exactly how far into your future did you peek? How long are you going to be invincible for? Months? Years? Did you see Maddy and me while you were there? If you did, does that mean we’re invincible too?” “I don’t want to know!” Madison cried, putting her hands over her ears. “Guys, just bury the stupid thing and forget about it. Or better still, destroy it.” “You told me not to,” Liam muttered. She glared at him. “What?” “Nothing.” She huffed and jumped to her feet. “I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t let you boys into my secret. If bug-eyed aliens abduct us from our beds tonight, I’ll know who to blame.” She stalked off. Liam watched her go, his smile broadening. “What’s up with you?” Ant said. “Do you enjoy riling her up or something?” Liam resumed pushing dirt into the hole, quickly covering the plastic box and the time wand within. “She’ll be fine. It’ll all work out, you’ll see. I’m going to marry that girl some day.” Ant laughed. “In your dreams, pal. In your dreams.”

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A SNEAK PEEK AT THE NEXT BOOK IN THE SLEEP WRITER SERIES . . .

As Liam hurtled through the wormhole, a sense of déjà vu hit him. No, more than that—the very real feeling he’d actually been here before. He tried to spin around, certain he was being watched by someone just behind him, but maneuverability was nigh impossible considering his high-velocity weightlessness. Still, he knew. He’d witnessed this very scene when he’d used the time wand. He’d visited a few places in his near future: first his house in the aftermath of the wonderstorm attack, then Madison’s bedroom when she’d asked the two boys to witness her sleep writing, and this moment right now, wearing some kind of armor as he sped through a wormhole. He sighed inwardly. Easy mistake to make. It’s not a suit of armor at all. I’m a robot.

In Robot Blood (Sleep Writer Book 2), Liam is kidnapped by a small robot and taken into space. There he meets the Ark Lord, a creepy cyborg bent on recruiting a team of so- called invincible soldiers for a very specific mission. There’s nothing special about Liam except that he’s seen his own future, which means his chances of survival are pretty much guaranteed, making him ideal for a potentially deadly task. To help him along, the Ark Lord injects Liam with cyborg-creating nanobots . . .

OTHER SCI-FI AND FANTASY NOVELS BY THE SAME AUTHOR

In Island of Fog, a group of twelve-year-old children have never seen the world beyond the fog, never seen a blue sky or felt the warmth of the sun on their skin. And now they're starting to change into monsters! What is the secret behind the mysterious fog? Who is the stranger that shows up one morning, and where did she come from? Hal Franklin and his friends are determined to uncover the truth about their newfound shapeshifting abilities, and their quest takes them to the forbidden lighthouse . . . There are nine books in this series, plus a number of short stories available for free at islandoffog.com. It’s an expansive saga set in a parallel Earth with plenty of magic and familiar creatures from myth and legend. Also look for a spin-off series set twenty years in the future and starring a new generation of shapeshifters.

In Fractured, the world of Apparatum is divided. To the west lies the high-tech city of Apparati, governed by a corrupt mayor and his brutal military general. To the east, spread around the mountains and forests, the seven enclaves of Apparata are ruled by an overbearing sovereign and his evil chancellor. Between them lies the Ruins, or the Broken Lands—all that's left of a sprawling civilization before it fractured. Hundreds of years have passed, and neither world knows the other exists. Until now. We follow Kyle and Logan on their journey of discovery. Laws are harsh. In the city, Kyle's tech implant

fails to work, rendering him worthless in the eyes of the mayor. In the enclaves, Logan is unable to tether to any of the spirits, and he is deemed an outcast. Facing execution, the two young fugitives escape their homes and set out into the wastelands to forge a new life. But their destinies are intertwined, for the separate worlds of Apparati and Apparata are two faces of the same coin . . . and it turns out that everyone has a twin. There are two books in this series, with a third (a prequel) planned for the future. This series is co-written with author Brian Clopper.

In Quincy’s Curse, poor Quincy Flack is cursed with terrible luck. After losing his parents and later his uncle and aunt in a series of freak accidents, Megan Mugwood is a little worried about befriending him when he moves into the village of Ramshackle Bottom. But word has it that incredibly good fortune shines on him sometimes, too. Indeed, it turns out that he found a bag of valuable treasure in the woods just a few months ago! As luck would have it, Megan has chosen the worst possible time to be around him. This is a fantasy for all ages, a complex and rewarding tale, a little dark in places but also a lot of fun.

Go to UnearthlyTales.com for more information.