Page 19 of When You're Gone

"Time hasn't been kind toit," Amelia observed, approaching the entrance with caution.

"Neither have the owners,apparently." Finn followed suit, his hand instinctively wishing for thegun that wasn’t there.

The front door creaked open attheir touch, revealing a foyer draped in cobwebs and dust. But it wasn't thedecay that sent shivers down Finn's spine—it was the sound. The house was alivewith ticking, a cacophony of clocks chiming in eerie unison.

"Look at this," Ameliawhispered, her flashlight beam sweeping across the walls lined with timepieces.Grandfather clocks stood sentinel beside delicate mantel clocks, each onemeticulously set to the same time.

"Seems our 'Chronos' has athing for punctuality," Finn said, stepping further into the house, hissenses alert.

"Watch your step, Finn,"Amelia replied, her tone laced with caution.

Together, they delved deeper intothe labyrinthine corridors of the house. Finn couldn't shake off the uneasecrawling under his skin, nor the feeling that, with each tick of the clocks,they were being inexorably drawn into the intricate workings of a plan farbeyond their comprehension.

The descent into the basement waslike stepping backward in time. The musty air grew thick with the scent of oiland metal as Finn led the way, flashlight cutting through the darkness.Amelia's steps on the wooden stairs echoed behind him, steady and cautious.

"Feels like we're walkingstraight into a Jules Verne novel," she murmured.

"Or a trap," Finn said,his voice low. He paused at the bottom step, scanning the expanse before them.The beam of his flashlight swept across a haphazard sprawl of machinery andtools that looked as if they had been plucked straight from the industrialrevolution.

"Look at this," Ameliasaid, her light landing on a wall adorned with blueprints. She stepped closer,tracing a finger along the lines of the intricate design. "The TempusMachine! Just like in Lucas Henshaw’s notes."

Finn joined her, eyes narrowing ashe studied the plans. "Maybe that's what this is all about, people tryingto get their hands on that old technology."

Next to the blueprints wereswirling drawings of clocks moving backwards.

"Trying to turn backtime?" Amelia questioned, skepticism tinged with a hint of dread in hertone. “This is madness.”

"Or something even moreambitious," Finn replied, his analytical mind piecing together theimplications of such a device.

Their contemplation was shatteredby a sudden clatter. Spinning around, Finn caught sight of a shadow dartingbetween the machinery.

"Show yourself!" Ameliacalled out, her own weapon drawn.

Silence, then the grinding sound ofgears, and a figure emerged from the shadows. It was a man, or at least, itseemed to be. Clad in dark, tattered clothing reminiscent of a Victorianfactory worker, he wore a gas mask with glass eyes that reflected theirflashlight beams like a nocturnal creature caught in headlights. In his handgleamed a large brass-handled knife.

"Ah, detectives," thefigure rasped through the filter of his mask, the words distorted butchillingly articulate. "Welcome to the heart of the great work."

"Put down the knife,"Finn commanded, pointing steadily at the masked assailant. "We can talkabout this."

"Talk?" The figurechuckled, a hollow sound that reverberated off the stone walls. "There isno need for words when time itself will soon be rewritten!"

In a flash of movement, theattacker lunged, knife arcing through the air towards them. Amelia dodged toone side, while Finn parried the strike with his arm, feeling the jolt run upto his shoulder.

"Amelia, a little help!"Finn barked, grappling with the attacker. The man was strong, fueled by manicfervor.

"Trying!" Amelia shoutedback, circling behind the assailant. She aimed a kick at his knee, sending himstumbling forward.

"Enough of this!" Finngrowled, using the man's momentary imbalance to wrench the knife from his gripand send it skittering across the floor.

"Your efforts arefutile," the masked figure spat, even as he tried to regain his footing."The machine will be completed, and the world set right!"

"Pal, I’ve heard somedelusions in my time, but this one takes the gold medal," Finn pressed,pushing the man against the wall.

The masked figure's blank eyesgleamed with fervor as he reached for his belt, pulling out a curved daggerthat glinted malevolently in the dim light. With a swift, calculated motion, helunged towards Finn, the blade finding its mark on Finn's exposed forearm. Asharp pain shot through Finn as he grunted in response to the unexpectedattack.

Blood welled up around the wound,staining his sleeve crimson as the room filled with the metallic tang of freshblood. The assailant's twisted smile widened beneath the eerie gas mask as Finnstaggered back, his hand instinctively clutching at the searing injury. Theticking of the clocks seemed to blend with Finn's racing heartbeat, creating adissonant symphony of danger and urgency in the air.

Amelia lunged forward, aiming tograb the masked man, but before she could reach him, his fist swung out withsurprising speed, catching her square on the jaw. Finn watched in horror as theimpact clearly sent a shockwave of pain through her head, and she stumbledback, gritting her teeth against the throbbing ache.

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