The Secret Runners of New York by Reilly Matthew

Author:Reilly, Matthew
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction
Published: 2019-03-25T16:00:00+00:00

I returned home with Red.

As we walked across the park, he shook his head.

‘So, let me get this straight,’ he said. ‘Our two portals and our tunnel would seem to be a bridge between two different times: now and the future, but a future sometime beyond the imminent end of humanity.’

‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘And geographically, the two versions of New York appear to be overlaid on each other.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What I mean is, Bo and I didn’t climb out of the well and pop up somewhere in China. We went under Central Park in our time and we emerged from a well in Central Park behind the Swedish Cottage in the other time. So the two New Yorks are overlaid on each other.’

‘Right …’ Red said.

‘And on top of that,’ I added, ‘it would seem that, temporally, the two times are also overlaid.’

‘Now you’re just geeking out, Miss AP Physics,’ Red said, smiling. ‘Please explain for those of us who are not as academically gifted as you.’

I returned his smile. ‘It’s a time-travel thing. If it’s 6:00 p.m. here, it’s 6:00 p.m. there. Bo and I left here around sunset and when we emerged from the well it was sunset there. It also means that if you’re inside that other world for an hour, then an hour passes here. The two times move forward together at the same rate.’

Walking parallel to the Transverse, we passed the Shakespeare Garden and the Swedish Cottage. Both looked as they always did, well tended and normal.

Red turned to face me as we walked. ‘You say the whole of New York was overtaken by vegetation and weeds?’

‘Yes. Roads like Central Park West and the Transverse were completely overgrown. The buildings, too. The moss and greenery had climbed up maybe ten storeys.’

‘Hmm.’ Red frowned.

‘What are you thinking?’

‘I’m wondering exactly how far into the future that alternate time is,’ he said. ‘For vegetation to grow ten storeys up city buildings would take some time, I think.’

He stopped suddenly.

And turned, his eyes narrowing.

‘Come with me,’ he said. ‘I have an idea.’

We backtracked to a stand of oak trees a short way from the path.

Red scanned the area for onlookers. As he waited for two walkers to pass, he picked up a sharp rock from the ground.

Then when the walkers were gone, my brother started hacking like a maniac with the sharpened stone at the trunk of one of the oaks, gouging out a triangular chunk.

I was horrified.

Then, to my even greater horror, he discarded the stone and took out his Zippo lighter and started burning the newly created void in the oak’s trunk.

I tried to stop him. ‘What are you doing?!’

He put his body between me and the lighter.

‘Chill, petal. I’m not going to burn it down. I just need to leave a visible wound.’

Wisps of smoke began to swirl from the trunk of the tree as the exposed bark began to burn.

I spun, sure that a passing cop would spot us trying to start a fire in Central Park.

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