They’d made it through time with no incident, the graphene suit holding up well. They’d already visited the trailer park where Saint grew up, but found the home vacant. Dylan felt like Tristan, trying to teleport to a moving target. The longer the others remained in the past, the more likely they changed the course of events. He and Naylor could shoot for a past event, but in truth, it may’ve never happened now that Cyrus brought Luke and Teague to nineteen eighty-nine. “I have a bad feeling about this,” Dar said, as they watched the police car drive away, leaving the street in front of the lab deserted. Walking into the street, Dylan spotted a wad of paper amongst the pieces of plastic and debris. Picking it up, he recognized Teague’s writing on the labels from the canister and case he’d found on her table. His heart picked up speed, his mood lightening. “Shit, this is Teague’s, Naylor.”
