Free New Olympus Saga (Book 2): Doomsday Duet by C.J. Carella Page B

her damnedest not to think about any of it, she curled up under the covers and tried to sleep.
    No luck. She was exhausted, but she couldn’t sleep. Christine distantly heard Condor’s voice as he and Kestrel went into their bedroom. The place was big enough so she probably wouldn’t hear them if they decided to have a little romp or three, but the thought didn’t help with her sleeping problem . Try to think about something else , she told herself. How about home, back on good old Earth Prime?
    What did people see when she disappeared? Christine knew she’d had a bit of an audience when she was puking her guts out on the lawn of the Phi Beta Gecko frat house, on that fateful night when she was dragged kicking and screaming into Earth Alpha. March 11, a whole four days ago. She was sure at least a couple of d-bags had been videoing her on their smarty-pants phones. What had they recorded when she went poof? Would people think she had disintegrated, or been abducted by aliens? Which she had been, kind of. Abducted by aliens, that is, not disintegrated. Would the videos end up in a bunch of conspiracy-theory websites?
    OMG, Mom. What about Mom? Christine had been missing for almost four days now. Her mother must be going through hell. With Dad out of the picture, it had always been Christine and Patricia against the world. She loved her mother with all her heart, even when Mom drove her insane. Going to college and leaving the nest had been awesome, but Christine still went back to New Jersey whenever she could, and called her mother at least a couple of times a week. Mom must be going out of her freaking mind. And there was nothing Christine could do, unless Dad wasn’t dead and agreed to help send her back.
    Was there something she could do? There were a few other Neos with the power to travel between worlds, from what Mark had told her. One of them, the Magister, sounded like her best option, even if his dimension-hopping machine was disguised as a Porta-Potty that was a lot bigger on the inside than on the outside; instead of a sonic screwdriver he probably had a laser plumber, or something like that. Of course, she had no effing idea how the hell to find Porta-Potty Man. Even if she did, she couldn’t leave until she and her band of broheims dealt with the a-holes who had abducted her in the first place. So, no Mom, not for a while. That almost made her cry.
    Well, thinking about home hadn’t really done anything to help her sleep.
    Christine realized she hadn’t heard Mark come up. He must be having his own insomnia problems.
    Misery could use some company. She got up, put on her fuzzy slippers and headed downstairs. And yeah, she knew that what she was doing might lead to something that was a bad idea.
    And yeah, part of her didn’t care.
     

Face-Off
     
    Lake of the Woods, Ontario, March 15, 2013
    I looked at the silent woods surrounding us from the lodge’s front porch. No cars driving by, no subways chugging along beneath the surface, none of the faint background noise of the city that was always there even in the wee hours of the morning. It was too quiet, too peaceful. It only served to remind me I was out of my element. Things would be better when we went back to New York. Even if I got killed in the city, at least it would happen on my stomping rounds while I was doing my usual schtick.
    Going after the guys chasing us wasn’t as horrible a plan as it sounded. If we found them first, we’d have the initiative for a change. If you want to fuck someone up, you don’t challenge him to a duel. You find out where he sleeps, you sneak in and you smash his skull before he wakes up, before he knows he’s in a fight. Not nice, but it works, and your chances of being the one walking away in one piece are a lot better. If we could find the fuckers before they found us, we might have a chance. Of course, they could find us first, or set up a nice reception for us. No guarantees in this life. Used to be I had a