Shadow Of The Past Trilogy ∞ THE DISPLACED

54 ∞ sizing up the river

Day Fourteen ∞ Thursday

SHE HAD TIME.

Fifty-five seconds became the same number of minutes at her moderately accelerated frequency. Every sound she heard lowered several decibels, the smattering of the helicopter rotors overhead now a low rumbling pulse—almost like a heartbeat. Immediately outside, Apocalypse's man was patting the surface of the hull in slow motion for signs of an opening.

Fifty-five minutes before she had to act. It gave her the time to review her options. To her, each option was the branching of a river, flowing to its own possible consequences. She would not act until she reconsidered every branch based on the present tributaries feeding the stream.

Selina closed her eyes and checked her connection with The One's vessel. The entire control system had interlocked with her consciousness, ready to respond to every purposeful thought. This was the second time she had ever accessed an operator role—but it was unlike two weeks ago when she attempted to bring the vessel under control after The One lost consciousness on entering the vortex to this Earth's dimension. This time, she found the connection occurring almost by instinct—standard mode was much easier. The vessel was, after all, partially Aumega technology.

She shifted her attention to survey the situation at hand. Overhead, there were two pilots and one gunner in each gunship. Eleven men with Apocalypse inside the hanger. Two men inside the light armored vehicle (LAV). And three armored cars arriving outside with two men each. Unless the men escorting Walters returned, she had twenty-six lives within range.

Ffffffiiiiiiiiiifffffttyyyyy—fffffffooooouuurrrrr... Apocalypse's mental countdown echoed from several men in the hanger.

It was time to inspect the status of the remaining tributaries.

—Deymos. Allow one exit, maintain shield until one returns.

—Affirmed. The acknowledgment came from the vessel's intrinsic intelligence.

She bent her head, the waves of her hair lifting around her as she desolidified into zero mass and visibility, then transposed herself high above the hanger. Two sets of rotor blades circled slowly below her as the sun in the West hung above the horizon.

She was free.

But she would be back.

In what manner, depended on what she would find after having been out of circulation for over five days. She turned her attention eighty miles east-southeast and, in an instant, found herself above the rosebush at the McGahn's family home.

"—about us. Are you okay?" She observed Daniel hold the screen door open for his mother, the woman on whom she imposed the imperative "You shall not interfere" a week ago.

"Oh, I'm fine, dear. Just a bit tired... Okay then. Goodnight."

"'Night."

The One was sitting with a writing pad in her lap. She seemed happy, felt happy. Happier than Selina could remember ever feeling her, even as a child.

"Good night, Grace," The One said.

She was still working on her memory. Selina would have to continue with her current mode of distraction—there was nothing for her to do here yet.

She was about to leave for her next stop when she felt it—the disturbance. As Daniel closed the door behind the older woman, both he and The One reacted to it. Selina scanned the environs for a threat but found none.