They would die. Like this. Underground.
Unseen and unheard by anyone else in NewCity.
Except for one. The Underground had been his home for over twentyyears now, and he really hated what these freaks from another world had donewith the place. He came leaping out of a secret hatch in the far wall with a heavyplasma rifle in tow.
With barely a sound, he took aim and went to work.
The fluid erupted in a jet of white lightning, tearing through thebodies of frenzied cannibals, dozens at a time, leaving them with gaping holesin their midsections where there once had been hearts, lungs, and otherinternal organs. Their bodies collapsed, useless, before their brains evenregistered what had happened. The jetsof plasma kept coming, streaming forth, cutting awide swath in the writhing horde.
Shrieks echoed from the survivors among their ranks, andpandemonium broke out. Freaks scattered in all directions, their eyes wide in disbelief as they stared at the lone figureheaded straight for them.
"That's right," Cyrus Horton laughed. "I'm comingfor you bastards!"
He squeezed the trigger, and another streak ofliquid lightning leapt forth, dissolving the head of a freak too stupefied toescape in time.
The others broke away fast, leaving their prey where they lay,half-dead and covered in their own blood. Horton charged after their retreat afew paces, far enough to take out a dozen more with his last rounds.
"And don't come back!" he shouted and then spit for emphasis. Turning on his heel, he dropped beside Mary's ravagedbody. "How's my girl?" he whispered, his fingertips caressing herleft temple. He bit his lip as he surveyed the damage.
She choked. Blood spilled from her lips. "Father,"she gurgled with relief. She was barely conscious, her throat and abdomen wide open, exposing every wet organ underneath.
"I'm going to fix you, Mary. Don't you worry, don't worryabout any of this. It's just superficial stuff, know what I mean? I'll fix youright up. You'll see. You'll be good as new when I'm through with you." Atear skidded into the rim of Horton's goggles.
Lennox stirred. His condition was no better than Mary's. Not thatit mattered. Horton wouldn't havefixed him, even if he could.
"I see you have...the latest mod," Lennox rasped, hisgoggles turning toward the plasma rifle. He chuckled to himself, spitting upblood. "Of course you would. You...made the damn thing."
"That's right."
"Couldn't have...shown up any sooner?" Lennox glanceddown at his torso and groaned. Torn intestines hung out of his ravaged midsection,slick and wet. Gagging, he looked away.
"Came as soon as I saw what was going on out here."Horton shifted on his knees and rested his eyes on Cade. Poor boy got theworst of it. He set his jaw. But I can fix him. I'll fix him up betterthan ever! "Cade?" He touched his shoulder. "Can you hearme, boy?"
Cade didn't stir. Horton reached forward and slipped the night-visiongoggles off him. White eyelids lay closed underneath. He didn't look like hewas sleeping.
"You're gonna be fine, kiddo. I promise you that."Horton swallowed. "I'm gonna make everything right again. You'llsee."
"The...BackTracker?" Lennox's voice was thick andgarbled. From the looks of him, he wouldn't be talking much longer—orbreathing, either. "Yeah?" He coughed, spilling blood from his mouth."You going to...travel back through time...and keep all this fromhappening?"
Horton paused. "That's why you're here, isn't it? You want itfor yourself."
"I hear there's...more than one." The makings of agruesome smile tugged at the side of Lennox's face, giving him an ironic,lopsided expression. "I wouldn't think...you'd mind sharing."
His mouth gaped in a frozen look of horror. He shook with suddenspasms before his body went rigid. Then he exhaled, long and loud, and laystill.
Horton watched him expire.
"Well, you're never going to get it, Mr. Lennox. Becauseyou're dead. And that tends to get in the way of things." He grinned as hegot to his feet. He kicked Lennox in the side a few times to make his point."That's right, you're dead. You hear me, you son-of-a-bitch?Dead!"
"So am I."
Horton whirled around at the sudden voice.
"Remember me?" Muldoon said.
Horton stood frozen, staring—but not at Muldoon. Harold Muldoon was a mere detectivemurdered in his own office twenty years ago. Horton didn't recognize him asanyone of importance. But he did recognize the older man standing beside thistall stranger. And the sight of the bizarreapparition seized Cyrus Horton with a sudden dread he could not fathom.
"Hey there," said the older man. "How's itgoing?" He shrugged his boney shoulders a bit and stuffed his hands intothe pockets of his coat.
Horton swallowed. Hidden beneath the goggles, his eyes dartedtoward the plasma rifle at his feet. Empty, yes, but these two wouldn't knowthat.
"You're..." He licked his lips, suddenly dry. So was histhroat. "You're me."
"KaBOOM!" The older man grinned. "There goes thespace-time continuum. Pretty weird, huh?"
"Me from...?"
"The future. A little ways down the road."
"I see." Horton didn't see at all. "What the hellare you doing here?"
"Just making sure everything turns out all right. Lennox wasquite a bad egg."
"He's dead."
"Apparently so. Good work."
Horton frowned. "I had nothing to do with—"
"You really shouldn't lie to me. Not the best use of yourtime. I'm you, remember? You saw all the carnage going on out here, andyou intervened only when you saw the freaksgive ol' Lennox enough of the business to take himout of the picture. I remember it clearly. I watched via the surveillancemonitors inside the lab—"
"Do you remember this?" Horton stooped to pick upthe plasma rifle.
"Leave it." Muldoon had a revolver trained on him.
Horton froze, doubled over.
"He's a crazy devil, this one," the older man saidwithout malice, shaking his head at his younger self. "Best to keep awatchful eye on him."
"What the hell do you want?" Horton demanded, risingwith empty hands. "You got some kind of important message from the future,then let's hear it! Otherwise, you're wasting my time. I've got work todo." His hands swept over
