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“So you go out into the world and bring back knowledge, and they record it. Right?”
Master nods.
“Sonofabitch.” How could I be so lucky? “I’m going to tell you everything I know, Master. You just need to get it to the temple and let them record it.”
He shakes his head.
“I fully realize the wall is being invaded, so you can’t get home right away. You’ll have to wait out the invasion.”
He shakes his head again.
I’m missing something.If he goes home with all this information, then what? Alwar is still dead. So are Bard and Gabrio. God only knows what happened to Tiago.
“What are the chances of you getting my story to the temple and one of the Scholar People crossing back to my world at some point?” Only, it won’t be my world anymore. It will be some very early version of Monsterland. “They just need to come before Alwar is born. Then he’ll come to the Scholar People for his studies, and your people will tell him everything.”
It sounds crazy, sending my story to Monsterland with Master, thousands of years in the future for safekeeping, so that someday, a scholar can jump to the past and deliver it to Alwar while he’s still alive and has plenty of time to come up with a plan.That is, if he even cares.
I try to think how I’d feel if someone told me a story, with me in it, that came from a guy thousands of years ago. And then he pleaded with me to take action, to save him when he’s already dead and has been for several millennia.
I’d laugh. I wouldn’t take it seriously. Unless the story had facts and details that proved it was real.Or at the very least, made me question.
Yep, it’s an insane idea, but what do I have to lose? It either works or it doesn’t, but it’s my only shot at warning the Wall Men about what’s to come, including the end of their people.
I sit down with Master and start telling him everything—my family’s history that’s been erased, his life with us, of me falling in love with Bard, the Proxy Vow, Benicio, Alwar falling in love with Mahra. I tell Master what changed between the life I started out with and this life without them in it. Lastly, I plead with Alwar to figure out what went wrong. “Tell Alwar that I know helping us means the end of the War People, but I’m begging him to find a solution. If the wall falls, they’re dead anyway.” If it doesn’t fall, they never exist.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A week later, I enter the house, carrying bags of groceries. Dave is on the couch, watching some crap on TV. He hasn’t said much since I informed him that I know all about his cheating. Probably because he’s too much of a coward to bring it up. Which I won’t. Our relationship is the last thing on my mind.
I’ve been busy tapping out our bank account—buying canned goods, first aid supplies, shells for the shotgun, propane, and tons of those sticky pads used to trap bugs and mice. Troll traps. I’ve also loaded up our wheelbarrow with firewood and placed it by the big tree with the window. Bonfires are what we used before to slow the flow of monsters, and I have to try.
I know deep down it’s probably a waste of time to fight, but what if it’s not? I mean, clearly the Norfolk survive, along with others, who become the First People.
I make a note to swing by the library tomorrow and grab a few books on quantum physics. Gardening too. I should also get one on surviving nuclear fallout. There are a few caves a couple of miles from here, but maybe I can find a bunker? It’s on my list to do next. I just figured preparing for monsters was more urgent. Later, the human-driven events that fry the planet happen.
“Hey, babe. Have you seen this crap on TV?” Dave enters the kitchen as I’m putting away the cans in the cupboard.
“Nope. Been a little busy.”
“You need to come see this.”
“Like I said, I’m a little busy.”Go away.
“Babe, they’re talking about some sort of wild animals overrunning Paris.”
Okay, that grabs my attention. “What kind of wild animals?”
“That’s the crazy part. They say they look like some sort of flea. Others are saying devils. It’s like a mass delusion.” He scratches the back of his head. “I mean, they must be people in costumes, right?”
People dressed in animal costumes the size of fleas, taking down Paris? Not likely. “Fuck. It’s starting.”
There’s a loud knock at the front door, and Dave, who’s closest, goes right for it.
“No! Don’t open—”
He jerks open the door, and standing there is an eight-foot-tall creature with huge teeth, big eyes, and a dark green body dripping with mucus.
“Dave! Back away!”
