Splinter: A CHRONOS Files Story by Rysa Walker

Author:Rysa Walker [Walker, Rysa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rysa Enterprises, Inc.
Published: 2016-12-17T00:00:00+00:00

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World’s Fair Hotel

10281893_20:25:30

I hold the air in my lungs as long as possible, and then pull in shallow, hesitant breaths, steeling myself against the pervasive smell of smoke and rot that fills the room. As I move away from the wall, something crooked and gnarled that looks a bit like a tree branch, catches against the side of my jeans. I hold the CHRONOS key down to investigate and realize that one bony finger has snagged the edge of the denim.

The sight causes me to startle. My two other selves turn and look directly at me, even though we’re doing our damnedest to avoid contact and the duplicate memories that follow. I feel two new memories worming into my head, a memory of looking over and thinking what an idiot, and another, from a slightly more recent self, of thinking, oh, it’s the idiot again. These memories almost, but not completely, overwrite the earlier one, when no idiot stood on this side of the cot.

I inch toward the center of the narrow room, away from the skeletal hand and its long-dead owner. Then I crouch down, doing my best to keep my breaths small and silent, and tuck my CHRONOS medallion into the leather pouch around my neck. Holmes may not be able to see the light from the key, but Kate can, and my last attempt proved exactly how much damage I could cause by distracting her.

A few yards in front of me, two shadows--one adult and one child, both dimly lit in green by their CHRONOS keys--shuffle toward the window and the ladder. Even though I’ve watched this over and over during the past few days, it’s still strange to see my eight-year-old self creeping along that wall next to Katherine. It’s not like a double memory, but more like when Simon drags me along to watch some movie he likes for a second time. A third shadow, which belongs to Kate, works its way carefully toward the linen closet that leads back into the hotel.

Somewhere between Kate and and the linen closet is Holmes. That part of the room is too dark to see clearly. I can hear him, though. He moves cautiously, but with a speed that shows how much more familiar he is with the layout of this abominable room than the rest of us.

Two shots ring out, in fairly rapid succession, followed by the crash of breaking glass. Like the stench, these noises have become routine, things that I hear and smell each time I’m here.

A third shot sounds as Katherine shoves the window open. Even though I can’t hear or see it from this distance, I know that Katherine and my younger self are currently having a brief, nearly silent squabble over who goes through the window first. I’d promised Kate that I’d get her grandmother back to safety, and I took that promise seriously. On the other hand, I was used to getting my bottom whacked if I argued with my elders.

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