World's End Read online

  Finally, Harry nods. “You’re you,” he says, looking up from his screen.

  He takes my phone, lipstick, MP3 player, and everything else from my purse. Examining each one, he places them on a metal tray. He then lifts out a small video camera. Nicci’s disguised EMP. Holding it up, he looks me in the eye.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  “Did you get permission for this?”

  “No. I’m sorry, Harry. It was hard enough getting a permit for my laptop last week,” I say. “Any chance I could just sneak it in? There’s a party after work.”

  “Sorry, Kathy. I’ve no problem with it, but the hospital board is coming down hard on us.” He sighs. “These past couple of weeks have been a proper nightmare.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “This should go to HR, but I’ll stick it in the security office instead and save you from all the paperwork.” Harry smiles. “Come and get it after your shift finishes.” He slides over the tray of my belongings.

  Result.

  “Give me a second.” He runs across the lobby with the camera.

  I empty the tray back into my bag.

  Crap! They’ll blame Harry for the EMP. I wish Phil had been working the desk now and he’d taken the camera to HR. It would have worked fine from there as well.

  Harry runs back over, gasping for breath. He slumps into his chair behind the desk, almost knocking his coffee over his donut. “Now, let me set your security privileges for the day.” He taps on the keyboard with one finger. “I’m glad I only have to do this for temporary nurses.”

  “Sorry.”

  Harry smiles. “Not your fault. It’s the new rules. They want everyone on a leash.”

  Reaching under the desk, he takes my ID card and attaches it to a blue lanyard. He wags a finger and grins. “This time remember to give it back when you finish your shift.”

  “Yeah, I won’t be taking it home again any time soon.”

  “You sure as hell caused a storm,” Harry says. “It’s a shame I wasn’t on duty; I’d have let you off.”

  He rummages in a drawer. “Before you go, take one of these Fall ribbons. The board wants everyone wearing them today.”

  I pin the blue ribbon on my shirt and head across the huge lobby. A large abstract painting hangs on the right wall. Various triangles make up a picture of the hospital, painted in bright yellow, blue, and green tones. Sun Lin told me about this painting yesterday. They must have installed it overnight. She said it cost a million dollars. Commissioned from a famous artist. A million freakin’ dollars… With all the paintings and sculptures on display, this place is more like an art gallery than a hospital lobby.

  Suddenly, the internal door slams open and another security officer walks in. It’s Paul O’Conner. With a face like thunder, he storms across the polished marble floor, boots squeaking with every step. He slams a hand down on the reception desk. It echoes like a clap of thunder.

  No… What’s he doing?

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  The receptionist shouts at him. “Don’t start again, Paul!”

  “Why didn’t you tell me she tested positive?!” he shouts back, angrily tapping his smartwatch. Neither look bothered who’s listening.

  I reach for the internal door, but the argument has my full attention.

  “She’s a Chanter terrorist!”

  “How dare you call her a magic terrorist!” the receptionist shouts. “It’s not her fault she’s an Enchanter. She’s only fifteen.”

  Paul will get sent home from his shift if he carries on like this. I need his security ID card to get Dean out of here.

  “I’d like a word with you, Miss Meadows.” A sharp voice comes from behind me.

  Crap. It’s Ripley.

  Standing in the open doorway, she beckons with her finger. “Follow me.” She swipes her ID card through the reader next to the door.

  I hope she didn’t hear Paul arguing.

  I swipe my ID and follow her through the door. She’s waiting outside the security office. Just to be on the safe side, I peer through the circular window in the door. It’s dark inside, but I can just make out the video camera, sitting on a shelf at the back. Waiting… Like a ticking time bomb.

  Ripley snaps her fingers and pushes her horn-rimmed glasses further up her nose, making sure I see the name on file in her hand.

  Katherine Meadows

  KM120890US0112-SSV

  My HR file.

  “You nearly caused an accident just now,” she says. “You know it’s against the rules to run in the car park.”

  There’s no such rule in the orientation manual — and I wasn’t even running.

  “Can I go? I need to change for my shift.” I turn to leave, but Ripley grabs my shoulder, spinning me around. She pushes her face right up to mine — her eyes blazing with anger.

  “I know what you are up to, Miss Meadows,” she whispers.

  Crap.

  My heart feels like it will burst from my chest any minute.

  “I’m not up to anything.” The smell of stale coffee on her breath makes me choke.

  “Your friends can’t always watch your back,” she says. “Any more flirtations with the rules and the hospital trust will have no choice but to terminate your contract and send you back home to America.” She taps her finger against my file. “And I’ll gladly put you on the plane myself.”

  Crap.

  Does she know about Luther… Nicci’s van in the parking lot… everything?

  “Security officers are not at your beck and call.” Ripley glances at the security office. “Get to work.” She points a finger at the elevators.

  Thank God. She meant Harry with the camera — not Luther and the others.

  Taking up her invitation, I head down the corridor.

  “Remember, I’m watching you,” she shouts.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  My hands tremble from the near miss as I press the elevator call button. The down arrow flashes green — it’s on the way. My chest tightens. It thumps, not from my heartbeat, but from the air, banging at my skin, trying to get into my lungs.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  Ripley stands at the end of the corridor, staring at me. My muscles tighten. My skin burns. Come on. Damn, stupid elevator. Claustrophobia or no claustrophobia, a tiny metal box is more welcoming than Ripley on full flow.

  The doors slide open. I jab at the keypad for the fourth floor and close my eyes.

  One… Two… Three… Four…

  The elevator door opens onto the fourth floor. I head quickly to the locker room, swipe my ID, push open the door, and slump down on a bench.

  Feels like I’ve run a marathon this morning, and it’s not even nine yet.

  A door suddenly slams and my heart goes straight back up to high gear.

  Not Ripley again. Please not Ripley.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  Sun Lin walks out of the washroom in her scrubs with a towel draped over her head.

  Thank God. A friend.

  “Oh! Hello, Kathy. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Hi Sun, what are you doing here this early?” I ask. “Your shift doesn’t start for another hour.”

  “My landlord cut off the hot water, so I came in early for a shower.” She walks over and grabs my hand. “Are you all right? You seem flustered.”

  “I had another run in with Ripley.”

  “What’s she done now?”

  “It’s nothing,” I say. “Just one of her threats again.”

  Sun half-smiles. “Oh, yeah. The threats. She got me last week. Cornered me in here while I was changing. She questioned the need for Akky’s care, then forced me into working a double shift.”

  Akky. Sun’s sister. Another casualty of the damned Fall.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  “We’re getting Dean out.”

  Sun takes a step back. Her brown eyes open wide.

  I bite my lip. “Are you sur
e you’re okay to help us?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t have told you Dean was here if I didn’t want to help.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  She rubs her hair with the towel. “Right, what do you need me to do?”

  “Just be ready at lunchtime,” I say. “We’ve got a special delivery coming for Ripley.”

  Sun grins. “I’ll be ready.” She walks over to her locker and throws her towel inside. “I’m going to check in on Akky before my shift starts,” she says, checking her watch. “I’ll see you later.”

  I unlock my locker, lift off my top, and reach for my scrubs.

  What the hell.

  Amber’s friendship bracelet, a Sparklet — as she called it, is glowing on my wrist like it’s on fire.

  Crap.

  I grab a mirror to check my reflection. My wide eyes stare back, now infused with a luminous blue pigment. Radiance.

  Even through my dyed hair, there’s no mistaking the flickering orange highlights in my bangs too. They match the Sparklet. My hair’s sparked. Sometime this morning — sometime recently, I’ve been in contact with magic.

  08:56 GMT

  LUTHER STONE

  RUTLAND HOSPITAL | NEW BAKEWELL

  “We’ve got a problem.” I squeeze between the front seats and lay the journal on the table next to Nicci’s laptop. “Kathy’s hair just sparked.”

  Nicci’s jaw drops and she slowly shakes her head. “It can’t have sparked.”

  I flatten the journal and push my finger up the page. The magical writing scrolls back a minute to eight fifty-five. “Look. Her eyes had Radiance too.”

  08:55 GMT

  KATHY MEADOWS

  RUTLAND HOSPITAL | NEW BAKEWELL

  I grab a mirror to check my reflection. My wide eyes stare back, now infused with a luminous blue pigment.

  Even through my dyed hair, there’s no mistaking the flickering orange highlights in my bangs too. They match the Sparklet. My hair’s sparked. Sometime this morning — sometime recently, I’ve been in contact with magic.

  “But what about the Veil?” Nicci asks, looking up. “The magic suppressant field stops all live magic. Dead magic, like the journal and your jacket, doesn’t set off Kathy’s hair.”

  I scroll the journal page back to the current time. “Maybe there’s unshielded Mystery Tek equipment in the hospital. We know their magic technology can work inside the Veil.”

  Nicci sighs. “I made thorough scans of the power grid when we got here this morning. There is no unshielded Mystery Tek in Rutland Hospital.”

  “Check again!”

  Nicci groans as she opens the lid on her laptop. She spins it around, stabbing her finger at the overhead plan of the hospital on the screen. Several green circles pulse over the north building. “These are the signatures from the Medusa Lapse devices the hospital uses — the shielded tech.” She taps on the keyboard and the green circles disappear. “Unshielded tech changes the power signature. They would show up red.” She points at the screen. “No unshielded magic signatures.”

  “Okay. Maybe it was something in the parking lot,” I say. “Off the power grid. Something hidden.” I pull open the side door. A warm, lavender-scented wind blows through. “I’ll do a quick reconnaissance.”

  “Wait. Wouldn’t Kathy’s boss and the security guard have noticed her hair if it had sparked in the car park?

  I pull my hand back from the door. “I suppose so.” My voice is quiet, embarrassed at my whisky induced error.

  “I’m going for the delivery van in a minute,” Nicci says. “I’ll check the car park on the way, just in case.”

  She reaches past me and closes the door, but the lavender scent hangs in the air.

  Libby.

  My hand trembles. I hide it behind my jacket and check Kathy’s progress in the journal to take my mind off the shakes.

  08:58 GMT

  KATHY MEADOWS

  RUTLAND HOSPITAL | NEW BAKEWELL

  My hair is freaking me out. Nicci said there was no unshielded magic in here.

  Crap.

  If she got that wrong…

  My heart pounds faster than ever.

  Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now. Stick to the plan. Get the drugs trolley.

  I push open the double doors to the ward. The disinfectant invades my nose, like a bad smell from a dirty fridge.

  “Kathy’s got the right idea,” Nicci says, peering over my shoulder. “There’s nothing we can do.” She runs her fingers through her hair. “It’s a good job you made her use the hair dye again.”

  I check the time. It’s zero nine hundred hours. “You’d better get the bomb packed.”

  Nicci reaches behind the back seat and pulls out an aluminum briefcase. She carefully places it on the table and flips open the two latches on the front. “Amber, give me a hand with this,” she says.

  I dodge a brown paper bag aimed at my head.

  “Unfold that for me,” Nicci says with a wry smile.

  Amber lifts the fake bomb and slots it in the foam cut-out inside the briefcase.

  Keeping Kathy’s page open, I place the journal on the table and then unfold the paper bag, examining the colorful fashion logo on the side.

  “It will help me blend in with all the regular shoppers,” Nicci says, sliding the briefcase inside the bag.

  “The briefcase looks heavy. Will you be okay?”

  Nicci’s eyes narrow as she lifts the bag.

  I grab the journal, turn to the next blank page, and hold it out to her.

  “What?”

  “You need to prime the journal,” I say, pushing it closer to her.

  “Do I have to?” She sighs. “I hate having that thing connected to my head.”

  “You didn’t mind before.”

  She hovers her hand over the empty page. Anyone would think I’ve asked her to dip her fingers in a bucket full of piranhas. “Come on. It won’t bite.” She sighs again and brushes her palm against the paper — words immediately spill out from under her fingers.

  09:02 GMT

  NICCI BELL

  RUTLAND HOSPITAL | NEW BAKEWELL

  Screw you, Luther!

  The corner of her mouth curls into a small grin as she reads the page. I ignore her colorful first words.

  “I’ll be following you in the journal. If anything happens here, I’ll call you. Otherwise, I’ll check in every ten minutes.”

  I tap Nicci’s shoulder and nod at Amber. “Okay,” she whispers as she slips on a thin, purple, summer jacket. She throws a similar pink one to Amber. “Do you want to come with me?”

  Amber shrugs her shoulders.

  “Fresh air will do you good,” Nicci says. “And we can get some food on the way.” She turns around. “If that’s okay with the boss.”

  “I can’t see a problem. So long as you drop her off on the bridge before you deliver the bomb.”

  Amber’s shoulders drop in defeat, and she slips on the pink jacket.

  Nicci pins a CCTV Blocker to her collar. “We’ll check the car park on the way,” she says, pulling a Sparklet over her wrist. She turns to Amber. “You got your Blocker and your Sparklet?”

  Amber nods, showing the clear badge inside her jacket collar and the bracelet of Kathy’s hair under her sleeve.

  Nicci pulls out her phone and takes a picture of Amber. “I just want to double check that the Blockers are working.” She turns the phone around. The screen is full of blurry computer pixels. There’s no detail at all in the image. She takes a picture of herself and the screen shows similar blurred pixels. “These Blockers Amber made are fricking awesome. Her grasp of Synthetic Diamond Electronics is far greater than my own… The tech in this timeline still blows my mind.” She glances at Amber, but her brooding niece doesn’t want any praise. Nicci sighs and she rubs the Band-Aid on the back of her neck as she slides open the side door. “We’re almost invisible.”

  “Wait.” I reach into my jacket pocket — the magic pocket
. “We need pictures.” Closing my eyes, I concentrate on what I want the jacket to magically summon to my hand.

  Whisky would do right now.

  The cool silver of my hip flask presses into my palm. My hand trembles. I let go of the flask and focus on the words I need.

  Polaroid camera.

  At last, my fingers touch the plastic casing. The pocket opening magically enlarges as I pull out the camera. I pass it to Amber. “Do you want the honors?”

  She used to love taking the Polaroid photos and watching them develop. Now, she just looks like I’ve asked her to tidy her room.

  She takes the camera and points it at Nicci.

  “Do we have to do this, every time?” Nicci asks. “Did you do this to President Bush too? No wonder they kicked you out.”

  “You know I resigned. And yes, we do need to do this every time. We need the backups,” I say. “You of all people know why.”

  Nicci’s eyes open wide, staying fixed on Amber’s silver locket as she takes the photo. The flash lights up her pale face, but her eyes remain focused on the locket. The picture inside, the backup of her life — from the real timeline.

  My timeline.

  Amber takes a shot of herself and places the developing photos on the table.

  “Can we go now?” Nicci asks, dragging her eyes away from the locket.

  “Take it slow and be cautious. And remember, I’ll call you every —”

  “Yes… I know. Every ten minutes,” Nicci says as they both step out of the van.

  I close the door and sit down on the comfy back seat to read their progress in the journal as they follow Kathy’s route through the parking lot.

  09:07 GMT

  NICCI BELL

  RUTLAND HOSPITAL | NEW BAKEWELL

  I keep my eyes fixed on the Sparklet. The hair remains brown. Although I agreed with Kathy that there’s nothing we can do about it, I’m a little worried.

  “You and me both, Nicci,” I whisper.

  09:08 GMT

  NICCI BELL

  RUTLAND HOSPITAL | NEW BAKEWELL