screeching of rusted metal as the old door protested against use, but nope. Someone kept the inner workings of this warehouse in decent shape.
Nick was smiling as he climbed back into the car. He released the brake and rolled through the open door.
“Where are we?” Josie asked again.
There were three other cars in a little parking area. Nick pulled alongside and cut the engine. “The Fortress of Solitude.”
“Huh?”
“Superman’s lair,” he said.
“Oh.”
“Kinda the same thing, actually,” Nick said in all seriousness. “We’re off the Grid. Completely self-contained. They have no idea we’re here.” Nick opened his car door. “Speaking of, switch your cell phone off. No cells in here. Ever.”
“Um, okay.” She switched off Jo’s cell, and following Nick’s lead, climbed out of the car.
Josie gazed wide-eyed at the interior of the warehouse. From the outside, it had looked like another abandoned, dilapidated building, but inside was quite different. First off, it was well lit. The exterior had presented a mess of broken windows and absolutely no sign of life, but a warm orange glow permeated the interior space, strong and safe and inviting.
Huh. That was weird. She should have been able to see the light from outside. Josie craned her head to peer up at the windows that lined the top of the warehouse. Blackout curtains were duct-taped over each window so none of the interior light bled into the abandoned area. Wow.
Nick closed the gate, then motioned for Josie to stay put. “Wait here.”
He didn’t need to tell her twice.
Nick jogged to the far end of the warehouse, where a lounge area had been set up. Sofas, easy chairs, even a coffee table. A large dry-erase board on a wheeled stand took up the space near the sofas, and behind it, there was a makeshift kitchen with a fridge, a watercooler, and a long table that was covered in books, maps, and scattered papers. A large guy bent over the open fridge, peering into its interior. Two more guys lounged on the sofas—identical shocks of bleached blond hair on identical tall, lean bodies—while at the large table, a girl sat hunched over the books and papers, studying.
“What’s up, Nick?” said a familiar voice.
“Where you been?” said another. The identical bleached blond heads sat up on the sofas and Josie immediately recognized Zeke and Zeb, the Kaufman twins.
The other guy slammed the fridge door. “Dammit,” he said, turning around. “Who keeps drinking my Muscle Milk?” Josie knew that face. Jackson Wells, captain of the Bowie Prep football team.
“Dude,” Nick said. “No one but you drinks that crap.”
“Well, someone’s taking it,” Jackson said. He wandered to the edge of the table and leaned against it. “I just put two in yesterday.”
“Guys,” Nick said. “Listen up. Something’s happened.” Nick turned to Josie and waved, beckoning her over. “You aren’t going to believe this.”
Oh boy. That was an understatement.
Josie slid out from behind the car and walked toward the group. They all stared at her and as she got closer, Josie could see the faces even more clearly. Her eyes lingered on the girl sitting at the table, a brunette with a scowl on her face that could only be described as hatred.
Madison.
TWENTY-NINE
5:12 P.M.
“WHAT THE HELL, NICK?” MADISON SAID. “ARE you out of your mind?”
Jackson reached into the back of his pants, and when his hand reappeared at his side, Josie realized he was holding a gun. She suddenly regretted her boneheaded decision to leave Nick’s gun in the car.
“Dude,” Jackson said. “You shouldn’t have brought her here. I thought we’d agreed on that.”
“I know what she looks like,” Nick said. “But she’s not Jo.”
“I’m not Jo,” Josie echoed. Her voice sounded small and weak.
“Bullshit,” Zeke said. At least she thought it was Zeke. Didn’t matter which universe, she couldn’t tell them apart.
“You can’t trust her,” said his brother.
Madison looked like she was ready to pounce on Josie and gouge her eyes out. “Her dad practically works for the Grid, Nick. He’s one of them.”
Nick shook his head. “He’s just a liaison for the government, Mads. You know that. Mr. Byrne’s pretty harmless, despite what Jo leads people to believe.”
“Don’t care.” Jackson’s knuckles flexed over the gun handle. “You shouldn’t have brought her here without giving us a heads-up.”
Nick put his hand on Jackson’s arm. “Chill. You’re going to have to trust me on this one. She’s not Jo Byrne.”
Jackson’s eyes never left Josie’s face. “You, I trust. Her? Not so much.”
“Just listen,” Nick said. He nodded at Josie and smiled, all sign of strain or tension gone from his face. “Go ahead. Tell them exactly what you told me.”
Josie felt the weight of four people staring daggers at her. Meanwhile Nick was still all smiles. Sure, he’d believed her story because he was there to see the mirror do its thing. But these people? She glanced at Madison, whose body was so rigid and tense she looked like a cheetah about to take down a gazelle. Jackson’s eyebrows brooded low on his dark face, angry, intense. The twins stood behind her, shoulder-to-shoulder like an impenetrable wall.
They hated her, all of them. Well, hated Jo. And she doubted whether any of them would buy what she was selling. Still, at this point, she didn’t have much of a choice. Nothing left to do but tell the truth.
It came out with surprising ease. Nick’s beaming smile helped. She kept her eyes focused on his and he gave her the occasional nod and wink as she got to the really crazy parts. The train, the dreams, the mirror—it all flowed out of her like a faucet turned on full blast. And when it was done, she realized that the mood in the warehouse had changed.
“Tell them what time it was,” Nick said coolly when she was done.
“Three fifty-nine.”
Zeb and Zeke exchanged a glance, and Jackson’s jaw dropped. “Really?” he said.
Madison threw up her hands. “I can’t believe you guys are taking her seriously.”
“It happened a week ago yesterday. On the fifteenth. Six months to the day. Hell, to the second!” Nick strolled over to the large dry-erase board and flipped it over to the opposite side. It was a time line of some sort, with arrows and circles connecting a series of photos that had been stuck around it. He jabbed his finger at a point on the timeline and smiled. “And there was a huge shipment that day. On the afternoon train from Andrews. Now, it could be a coincidence, but I can’t help but think the two things are related.”
Josie was confused. “A huge shipment of what?”
“Ultradense deuterium,” Nick said.
Josie caught her breath. “Oh my God. My mom got a shipment of ultradense deuterium on the fifteenth. On the same train that stopped me at the tracks. It can’t be a coincidence.” Josie’s mind raced. “Same shipment, same train, same time. If there was an anomaly of some kind, that could have been enough to create the portal between our dimensions.”
Nick turned sharply. “What kind of anomaly?”
“Not sure.” Josie shrugged. “A previous weakness in the curvature of space? Or something violent enough to create one, like a massive, subatomic explosion.”
