then there was the ground itself. He was on a beach, a real beach. Ash laughed and dug his fingers into the sand, amazed that he hadn’t realized it before. There were no beaches left in New Seattle. Everything was underwater.
He’d gone to the past. Somehow, unbelievably, he’d traveled through time without a vessel. Without any exotic matter.
It . . . shouldn’t have been possible. Ash gave his head a hard shake and pushed himself to his hands and knees, trying to make sense of what had just happened. People had tried before. The Professor had performed experiment after experiment. This thing that he’d just done should’ve killed him, but it didn’t. Why?
Ash found himself wishing that Zora had come back with him, that she were here to offer him some sort of explanation for what he’d just done. But she wasn’t, which meant that he’d have to figure out what to do next all on his own. It was a more daunting prospect than it should’ve been.
Standing, he peered up at the city, shielding his eyes against the fierce glow of light. In her broadcast, Dorothy said that she and Roman were headed back to the old hospital to pick up medical supplies. Ash thought it might be too much to hope that he’d not only traveled back in time but also somehow managed to wind up at the exact moment that Dorothy and Roman had gone back to. But, hell, stranger things had happened today.
He could see the top floors of the hospital from his spot on the beach. It was downtown, one of the largest buildings in the city. Couldn’t be more than a mile away.
Pulling his wet leather jacket more firmly around his shoulders, Ash set out for the hospital.
33
Dorothy
Down dark and twisted hallways. Past more rooms filled with medical equipment and drugs they were supposed to be stealing.
Roman didn’t stop, but said only, “This way.”
And now, the skin on the back of Dorothy’s neck crept. His voice sounded . . .
Feverish. Desperate.
He stopped at a room that looked just like all the others, abandoning his empty body bag at the door. “Come on,” he murmured, seeming to speak to himself.
Dorothy stayed in the hall, wary and watchful.
Roman knocked a bottle over with his elbow. It toppled and then rolled off the shelf, exploding on impact with the hard tile floor, spraying the toes of Roman’s heavy boots. He appeared not to notice.
Dorothy’s palms had started to sweat. Something was very wrong.
“Come on,” Roman murmured, digging a hand through his hair. Dorothy came up behind him, reading the medicine labels over his shoulder.
“Insulin?” she read.
Roman’s hand jerked forward, snatching a few small bottles off the shelves, knocking even more to the ground. He shoved them into his pockets, his movements erratic.
And then he was in the hall again, running for the exit.
Dorothy followed him up a staircase, through a set of heavy metal doors. She felt the prick of water on her cheeks and, blinking, realized that they were outside and it had started to rain. The streets were dark and glittering, and even the shadows seemed edged in light.
“Roman, wait!” she called, but Roman didn’t turn around. He was racing across an expanse of black asphalt, boots slapping wetly against the pavement. They must’ve exited at the back of the hospital because she saw no sign of the crowd and chaos that had been gathered out front. Swearing, she darted into the street after him—
A sound like a bullhorn blared through the night, shocking her. She stopped short as a car skidded to a stop inches away.
“S-sorry,” she said, though she couldn’t see the driver beyond the rain-soaked windshield.
Roman had ducked between two buildings. She was going to lose him. Heart pounding, she hurried the rest of the way across the street.
Tall buildings. Thinly gathered trees. Dorothy didn’t have time to stop and marvel at the world she was running through. She could only just manage to keep Roman in her sights. He was faster than she’d expected him to be, and he showed no signs of stopping to wait for her. Wind screamed in her ears. The rain came down harder, plastering her uniform to her shoulders.
She caught sight of red brick. Pink cherry blossoms. Black concrete gave way to grass, skyscrapers became tall trees and quaint, brick buildings.
Still, Dorothy didn’t know where they were until she saw the first tent.
She slowed to a walk, her chest aching. First it was just one tent,