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Truthfully, Nick felt that time was over and done.

They were in Mal’s painting now.

No one would get there on time.

Or if they did, they wouldn’t be able to help.

It really felt like Morley and Nick were on their own up here.

Nick just hoped that didn’t mean they’d already lost.

He had to believe they were still here, at least, on this world. Nick had to believe that murderous fuck hadn’t dragged them through the portal yet.

As they were finally pulling out of the back of the train and finally getting on the main road outside the station, Nick gave in and pinged his wife.

That time, he didn’t use blood.

He used the comm.

He nearly cried out in relief when she picked up.

“Jesus. Wynter. Where are you?” he asked. “Where the fuck are you? We’re here. We just got off the train. We’re coming to you now…”

Nick trailed when he realized she wasn’t speaking.

She hadn’t answered him yet.

She still hadn’t answered him.

Why the fuck wasn’t she answering?

Nick felt it then. He felt the sick tilting in the back of his mind. He felt the desolate, lost, empty, lightless feeling of the other’s mind.

Nick was drowning in it, even before the Stranger spoke.

“Hey, brother,” the eerily familiar voice said. “You made it. Nice.”

The disturbingly cheerful, California accented voice put a cold finger down Nick’s spine.

He didn’t think.

He hung up the comm.

He turned to Morley. “Go to the fucking portal.” His jaw clenched. “He’s got them. He answered Wynter’s headset. It’s too late to go to the compound.”

Morley didn’t need to be told twice.

He was already pulling up the map Mal had given them of how to get there.

The light in front of them turned red, but Morley just turned on his siren and jammed through the intersection anyway, causing a few cars and robo-taxis to skid to a stop. Morley barely spared them a glance. The senior detective only hit the accelerator harder with his foot, bringing them swiftly back up to the speed he’d used to get them through Long Island, Queens, Brooklyn, and finally Manhattan.

Only out here, Morley didn’t have as many reasons to hit the brakes.

Other than a few trucks, there was no traffic to weave around.

There were no pedestrians to hit, and after a few more roads, there were no stoplights anymore, either. Not like the latter mattered much; Morley blared his siren through all four they went through, never so much as taking his foot off the acceleration pedal.

Nick could only sit there, willing the car even faster.