The Flight of the Silvers

Peter’s eyes grew moist. His lips quivered. He held up a single finger.

 

“One string. I saw one string of light that extended from the wall and just kept going. One single timeline where life continued. The moment I laid eyes on it, I knew in my heart that the end of the world wasn’t like an earthquake or a meteor or an erupting volcano. It’s not a fixed event. There’s one string of time where someone manages to stop what’s coming.”

 

The Silvers wore the same incredulous expression for five quiet seconds.

 

“One string out of trillions,” Hannah said.

 

“One is all you need, hon. I saw it. It exists. Now, I didn’t have a chance to reach it before I fell out of my coma, but I know it’s still there waiting for us. All someone needs to do is find it and study it. See what went right. Once we know, we’ll make damn sure to repeat the process, step by step.”

 

“Uh, when you say someone—”

 

“I mean one of you in particular. You know who I’m talking about.”

 

All eyes turned to Theo. He fell inside his head, struggling to wrap his thoughts around the giant task Peter was placing on him. He’d already reverse engineered one favorable outcome, but that was just for a single hour and five friends. Now he was being asked to do the same thing on a global scale over a half decade. Assuming he could even find the string. Assuming it existed.

 

“Why him?” Amanda asked. “He’s not the only one who can see the future.”

 

“As of now, there are only forty augurs left in the world,” Peter replied, “and Theo blows them all out of the water. He’s the only one who has the power to enter the God’s Eye willingly.”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“You will.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“You will,” Peter insisted. “If you don’t trust me, trust Future Mia. She’s the one who told me.”

 

Hannah wanted to cry again. Theo was only ten weeks sober. He’d just overcome a painful neurological malady. Now he’d been given a burden that no one should ever have to carry.

 

She glared at Peter. “You can’t just dump this on him. It’s not fair.”

 

“I have a son who’s fixing to die at seventeen. There’s very little about this that’s fair.”

 

“I’m not worried about the fairness,” said Theo. “I’m just worried you’re wrong.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“I’m sure Rebel feels the same way about his theory,” Zack cautioned.

 

“Rebel’s seen the string too. He knows there’s a solution. He just made some terrible assumptions about the nature of it. Correcting him is our next priority, one of many. The rest of us will have plenty to do while Theo’s busy.”

 

The group sat in muddled silence for nearly a full minute. Peter leaned back and flicked a weak hand in the air.

 

“I don’t blame you at all for your skepticism. Nobody’s suffered more at the hands of the universe than you six. And yet here you are, still together, still breathing. An augur, an actress, a widow, a cartoonist, a boy, and a girl. You’re the most extraordinary group of people I’ve ever met and I will never bet against you. Ever.”

 

The others stayed rigidly quiet, biting their lips in tight suppression. None of them felt even a fraction as formidable as Peter made them out to be. They could only see his point when they looked around the table. There didn’t seem to be a single companion without a string of miracles under their belt, even just from today.

 

Peter finished securing Amanda’s boot, then gently swung her legs to the coffee table. He stood up and let out a stretching groan.

 

“I think it’s well past time you folks got some rest. Should your troubled minds keep you from sleeping, as troubled minds do, remember the silver lining. We’ll find the string. We’ll stop what’s coming. What happened to your world won’t happen here.”

 

The Silvers absently gazed ahead as Peter gathered the empty tea mugs and disappeared into the kitchen. They listened to the running faucet, the gentle clinks of spoons and ceramics.

 

Soon Zack rose to his feet and circled the table, extending both hands to Amanda.

 

“Come on. I’ll take you upstairs.”

 

While he ported her onto his back, Amanda scanned the two entwined couples on the easy chairs. Judging by their dark and dreary faces, she figured none of them would be detaching anytime soon.

 

Halfway up the stairs, she leaned forward and breathed a soft whisper in Zack’s ear.

 

“Stay with me.”

 

Though his expression remained impassive, Zack assured her in no uncertain terms that he had every intention of doing so. Every damn reason in the world.

 

 

Daniel Price's books