Page 88 of A Seer and Present Danger

I strained, close, closer, my fingertips brushing against, then catching purchase on that single slippery possibility. (Was this real? Or was I dreaming? Shot, bleeding, dead?)

I grabbed the past I wanted, anchoring (chaining, welding) it to me.

This is real, this has to be real

This the past that has always been real

This one thing has always happened.

In this one Past, I talk to Buzz in the kitchen. He offers me the keys and instead of taking them, I tell him if I need them, I know where to get them.

That means when the lights go out, I don’t have the keys to turn on the generator.

That means everything that has happened since, has happened in complete, utter, endless darkness.

And just like that, the world (the real world) plunged into darkness.

Aggie pointed her gun my way, but she couldn’t see me to aim⁠—

I threw myself down⁠—

—the gun fired, a slash of heat and violence, off target, way off target and still way too close⁠—

—I was on my feet, running. Not away, not to the locked door, not to the kitchen with Vandre, not to the land line phone⁠—

—I bulldozed straight into Aggie.

We collided, went down, yelled in pain and outrage, the gun clattering away in the darkness.

I wasn’t a fighter, but there was no way I was going to let Aggie get that gun before I got it.

We scrambled and lunged for it, tripping up, and tripping over each other.

I couldn’t see the gun, couldn’t see anything. But neither could she.

I shoved up to my feet and felt around until my hands landed on a chair.

Aggie stood too, I could hear her panting, she was right in front of me. I swung the chair in a wild arc with everything I had.

“Ow!” The sound of a body hitting the ground with a woof of air leaving her lungs filled the space.

I held the chair over my shoulder. “Stay down or I’ll do it again.”

If I could find her again.

“Fine!” she snarled. “I’ll put my hands up here where you can see⁠—”

“Freeze, both of you.”

Vandre (who didn’t sound woozy) beamed a light our way. I yelped at the brightness and half covered my eyes.

He was near the kitchen, his palm flat on the wall. The pressure from him leaning on the future made my ears want to pop.

“Keep those hands up, Aggie. Piper, step back slowly.”

I took a couple steps back.

“Can you keep her there?” I asked him.