ALSOBYRICKYANCEY

The5thWave

TheInfiniteSea

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ForSandy“Theworldends.Theworldbeginsagain.”

Contents

AlsobyRickYanceyTitlePageCopyrightDedicationEpigraph

THEGIRLWHOCOULDFLY

Chapter1:“IWILLSITWITHYOU”Chapter2Chapter3:RINGERChapter4Chapter5

I:THEFIRSTDAYChapter6:CASSIEChapter7Chapter8:ZOMBIEChapter9Chapter10:RINGERChapter11Chapter12Chapter13:SAM

II:THESECONDDAYChapter14:ZOMBIEChapter15Chapter16Chapter17Chapter18Chapter19Chapter20

Chapter21:CASSIEChapter22Chapter23:RINGERChapter24Chapter25Chapter26:ZOMBIEChapter27Chapter28Chapter29:RINGERChapter30Chapter31Chapter32Chapter33Chapter34

III:THETHIRDDAYChapter35:ZOMBIEChapter36Chapter37:SAMChapter38Chapter39:RINGERChapter40:EVANWALKERChapter41Chapter42Chapter43Chapter44:SQUADONE-NINEChapter45:RINGERChapter46:CASSIEChapter47Chapter48Chapter49Chapter50Chapter51Chapter52:ZOMBIEChapter53Chapter54:CASSIEChapter55Chapter56:RINGERChapter57Chapter58

Chapter59:CASSIEChapter60:RINGERChapter61Chapter62

IV:THELASTDAYChapter63:EVANWALKERChapter64Chapter65Chapter66Chapter67Chapter68Chapter69Chapter70:CASSIEChapter71Chapter72:ZOMBIEChapter73Chapter74Chapter75Chapter76Chapter77Chapter78Chapter79Chapter80:CASSIEChapter81Chapter82Chapter83Chapter84:SILENCERChapter85:ZOMBIEChapter86Chapter87Chapter88:RINGERChapter89Chapter90Chapter91Chapter92Chapter93Chapter94Chapter95:SILENCERChapter96:RINGER

Chapter97Chapter98:THESEVENBILLIONBILLION

MARBLEFALLS

Letnoonedespair,

eventhoughinthedarkestnight

thelaststarofhopemaydisappear.

—ChristophMartinWieland

THEGIRLWHOCOULDFLY

MANYYEARSAGO,whenhewasten,herfatherhadriddenabigyellowbustotheplanetarium.Theretheceilingabovehimexplodedintoamillionglimmeringshardsoflight.Hismouth

droppedopen.Hissmallfingersclampeddownontheedgeofthewoodenbenchuponwhichhesat.Overhishead,pinpricksofwhitefirespun,pureasthedaytheEarthemergedasablackened,pockmarkedrock,anaverageplanetorbitinganaveragestarattheedgeofanaveragegalaxyinalimitlessuniverse.TheBigDipper.Orion.UrsaMajor.Thedroningmonotoneoftheastronomer ’svoice.The

children’sfacesliftedup,openmouths,unblinkingeyes.Andtheboyfeelinginfinitesimallysmallbeneaththeimmensityofthatartificialsky.

Hewouldnotforgetthatday.Yearslater,whenhisdaughterwasveryyoung,shewouldruntohim,pudgytoddlerlegs

wobbling,solidlittlearmsliftedup,eyesburningwithanticipationandjoy,crying,Daddy,Daddy,stubbyfingersspreadwide,reachingforhim,reachingforthesky.

Andshewouldleap,afearlesslaunchintoemptyspace,becausehewasn’tjustherfather—hewasDaddy.Hewouldcatchher;hewouldnotletherfall.

Crying:Fly,Daddy,fly!Andupshewouldgo,rocketingtowardtheimmensityoftheunboundedsky,armsopento

embracetheinfinite,herheadthrownback,rushingtothatplacewhereterrorandwondermeet,hersquealsthedistilledhilarityofbeingweightlessandfree,ofbeingsafeinhisarms,ofbeingalive.Cassiopeia.Fromthatdayattheplanetarium,whenherlifelayfifteenyearsinthefuture,therewasnodoubt

whatnamehewouldgiveher.

1“IWILLSITWITHYOU”

THISISMYBODY.Inthecave’slowermostchamber,thepriestraisesthelastwafer—hissupplyhasbeenexhausted—

towardtheformationsthatremindhimofadragon’smouthfrozeninmid-roar,thegrowthsliketeethglisteningredandyellowinthelamplight.

Thecatastropheofthedivinesacrificebyhishands.Takethis,allofyou,andeatofit...Thenthechalicecontainingthefinaldropsofwine.Takethis,allofyou,anddrinkfromit...MidnightinlateNovember.Inthecavesbelow,thesmallbandofsurvivorswillremainwarmand

hiddenwithenoughsuppliestolastuntilspring.Noonehasdiedoftheplagueinmonths.Theworstappearstobeover.Theyaresafehere,perfectlysafe.Withfaithinyourloveandmercy,Ieatyourbodyanddrinkyourblood...Hiswhispersechointhedeep.Theyclamberuptheslickwalls,skitteralongthenarrowpassage

towardtheupperchambers,wherehisfellowrefugeeshavefallenintoarestlesssleep.Letitnotbringmecondemnation,buthealthinmindandbody.Thereisnomorebread,nomorewine.ThisishisfinalCommunion.MaythebodyofChristbringmetoeverlastinglife.Thestalefragmentofbreadthatsoftensonhistongue.MaythebloodofChristbringmetoeverlastinglife.Thedropsofsouredwinethatburnhisthroat.Godinhismouth.Godinhisemptystomach.Thepriestweeps.Hepoursafewdropsofwaterintothechalice.Hishandshakes.Hedrinksthepreciousblood

commingledwithwater,thenwipescleanthechalicewiththepurificator.Itisfinished.Theeverlastingsacrificeisover.Hedabshischeeksonthesameclothheusedto

cleanthechalice.ThetearsofmanandthebloodofGodinseparable.Nothingnewinthat.Hewipescleanthepatenwiththecloth,thenstuffsthepurificatorintothechaliceandsetsitaside.

Hepullsthegreenstolefromhisneck,foldsitcarefully,kissesit.Helovedeverythingaboutbeingapriest.LovedtheMassmostofall.

Hiscollarisdampwithsweatandtearsandlooseabouthisneck:He’slostfifteenpoundssincetheplaguestruck,andabandonedhisparishtomakethehundred-milejourneytothecavernsnorthofUrbana.Alongthewayhegainedmanyfollowers—overfiftyinall,thoughthirty-twodiedfromthe

infectionbeforereachingsafety.Astheirdeathsapproached,hespoketherite,Catholic,Protestant,orJew,itdidn’tmatter:MaytheLordinhisloveandmercyhelpyou...Tracingacrossontheirhotforeheadswithhisthumb.MaytheLordwhofreesyoufromsinsaveyou...

Thebloodthatseepedfromtheireyesmixedwiththeoilherubbedontheirlids.Andsmokerolledacrossopenfieldsandhunkeredinwoodsandcappedoverroadslikeiceoverlanguidriversindeepwinter.FiresinColumbus.FiresinSpringfieldandDayton.InHuberHeightsandLondonandFairborn.InFranklinandMiddletownandXenia.Intheeveningsthelightfromathousandfiresturnedthesmokeaduskyorange,andtheskysanktoaninchabovetheirheads.Thepriestshuffledthroughthesmolderinglandscapewithonehandoutstretched,pressingaragoverhisnoseandmouthwiththeotherwhiletearsofproteststreameddownhisface.Bloodcrustedbeneathhisbrokennails,bloodcakedinthelinesofhishandsandinthesolesofhisshoes.Notmuchfarther,heencouragedhiscompanions.Keepmoving.Alongtheway,someonenicknamedhimFatherMoses,forhewasleadinghispeopleoutoftheobscurityofsmokeandfiretothePromisedLandof“Ohio’sMostColorfulCaverns!”

Peoplewerethere,ofcourse,togreetthemwhentheyarrived.Thepriestexpectedit.Acavedoesnotburn.Itisimpervioustoweather.Bestofall,it’seasytodefend.Aftermilitarybasesandgovernmentbuildings,caveswerethemostpopulardestinationsintheaftermathoftheArrival.

Supplieshadbeengathered,waterandnonperishables,blanketsandbandagesandmedicines.Andweapons,naturally,riflesandpistolsandshotgunsandmanyknives.Thesickwerequarantinedinthewelcomecenteraboveground,lyingincotsarrangedbetweenthedisplayshelvesofthegiftshop,andeverydaythepriestvisitedthem,spokewiththem,prayedwiththem,heardtheirconfessions,deliveredCommunion,whisperedthethingstheywantedtohear:Persacrosanctahumanaereparationismysteria...Bythesacredmysteriesofman’sredemption...

Hundredswoulddiebeforethedyingwasover.Theydugapittenfeetwideandthirtyfeetdeeptothesouthofthewelcomecentertoburnthem.Thefiresmoldereddayandnight,andthesmellofburningfleshhadbecomesocommonplace,theyhardlynoticed.

Nowit’sNovember,andinthelowermostchamberthepriestrises.Heisnottall;still,hemuststooptoavoidsmackinghisheadintotheceilingoragainstthestoneteeththatbristlefromtheroofofthedragon’smouth.TheMassisended,goinpeace.Heleavesbehindthechaliceandthepurificator,thepatenandhisstole.Theyarerelicsnow,

artifactsfromanagerecedingintothepastatthespeedoflight.Webeganascavedwellers,thepriestthinksashemakeshiswaytowardthesurface,andtocaveswehavereturned.

Eventhelongestjourneyisacircle,andhistorywillalwayscyclebacktotheplacewhereitbegan.Fromthemissal:“Rememberyouaredustanduntodustyoushallreturn.”

Andthepriestriseslikeadiverkickingtowardthedomeoftheskysparklingabovethewater.Alongthenarrowpassagewaythatwindsgentlyupwardbetweenwallsofweepingstone,thefloor

isassmoothasthelanesofabowlingalley.Onlyafewmonthsbefore,schoolchildrenonfieldtripsmarchedinsinglefile,trailingtheirfingersalongtherockface,theireyessearchingformonstersintheshadowsthatpooledinthecrevices.Theywerestillyoungenoughtobelieveinmonsters.

Andthepriestrisinglikealeviathanfromthelightlessdeep.ThetrailtothesurfacerunspasttheCaveman’sCouchandtheCrystalKing,intotheBigRoom,

themainlivingareafortherefugees,andfinallyintothePalaceoftheGods,hisfavoritepartofthecaverns,wherecrystallineformationsshinelikefrozenshardsofmoonlightandtheceilingsensually

undulateslikewavesrollingintoshore.Here,closetothesurface,theairthins,becomesdrier,tingedwiththesmokeofthefiresthatstillfeedupontheworldtheyleftbehind.Lord,blesstheseashesbywhichweshowthatwearedust.Snatchesofprayerrunthroughhismind.Fragmentsofsong.Litaniesandblessingsandthewords

ofabsolution,MayGodgiveyoupardonandpeace,andIabsolveyoufromyoursins...AndfromtheBible:“Iwentdowntotherootsofthemountains;tothelandwhosebarsclosedbehindmeforever.”

Incenseburninginthecenser.Softspringsunlightshatteredbystainedglass.ThecreakingofthepewsonSundaylikethehullofanancientvesselfaratsea.Thestatelymeasureoftheseasons,thecalendarthatgovernedhislifefromthetimehewasaninfant,Advent,Christmas,Lent,Easter.Heknowshelovedthewrongthings,theritualsandtraditions,thepompandfopperyforwhichoutsidersfaultedtheChurch.Headoredtheform,notthesubstance;thebread,notthebody.

Itdidn’tmakehimabadpriest.Hewasquietandhumbleandfaithfultohiscalling.Heenjoyedhelpingpeople.Theseweeksinthecavehadbeensomeofthemostfulfillingofhislife.SufferingbringsGodtohisnaturalhome,themangerofterrorandconfusion,painandloss,wherehewasborn.Turnoverthecurrencyofsuffering,thepriestthinks,andyouwillseehisface.

AwatchmansitsjustinsidetheopeningabovethePalaceoftheGods,hisburlyframesilhouettedagainstthesprayofstarsbeyondhim.Theskyhasbeenscrubbedcleanbyastiffnorthwindauguringwinter.Themanwearsabaseballcappulledlowoverhisforehead,andawornleatherjacket.He’sholdingapairofbinoculars.Ariflerestsinhislap.

Themannodsahellotothepriest.“Where’syourcoat,Father?It’sacoldonetonight.”Thepriestsmileswanly.“IlentittoAgatha,I’mafraid.”Themangruntshisunderstanding.Agathaisthecomplainerofthegroup.Alwayscold.Always

hungry.Alwayssomething.Heliftsthebinocularstohiseyesandscansthesky.“Haveyouseenanymoreofthem?”thepriestasks.Theyspottedthefirstgrayish-silver,cigar-

shapedobjectaweekbefore,hangingmotionlesslyabovethecavernsforseveralminutesbeforesilentlyshootingstraightup,dwindlingtoapinprickscarinthevastblue.Another—orthesameone—appearedtwodayslater,glidingsoundlesslyoverthemuntilitdroppedbeneaththehorizon.Therewasnoquestionabouttheoriginofthesestrangecraft—thecavedwellersknewtheyweren’tterrestrial—itwasthemysteryoftheirpurposethatfrightenedthem.

Themanlowersthebinocularsandrubshiseyes.“What’sthematter,Father?Can’tsleep?”“Oh,Idon’tsleepmuchthesedays,”thepriestsays.Thenheadds,“Somuchtodo.”Hedoesn’t

wantthemantothinkhe’scomplaining.“Noatheistsinfoxholes.”Theclichéhangsintheairlikearancidsmell.“Orincaves,”thepriestsays.Sincetheymet,hehasstrainedtoknowthismanbetter,butheisa

closedroom,thedoorsecurelydead-boltedbyangerandgriefandthehopelessdreadofthedoomedlivingonborrowedtime.Formonthsthere’sbeennoturningfromitorhidingfromit.Forsome,deathisthemidwifetofaith.Forothers,itisfaith’sexecutioner.

Themanpullsapackofgumfromhisbreastpocket,carefullyunwrapsapiece,andfoldsitintohismouth.Hecountstheremainingsticksbeforeslippingthepackbackintohispocket.Hedoesnotofferanytothepriest.

“Mylastpack,”themansaysinexplanation.Heshiftshisweightonthecoldstone.“Iunderstand,”thepriestsays.“Doyou?”Theman’sjawmoveswithahypnoticrhythmashechews.“Doyoureally?”Thedrybread,thesouredwine:Thetastelingersonhistongue.Thebreadcouldhavebeen

broken;thewinecouldhavebeendivided.HedidnothavetocelebratetheMassalone.“IbelievethatI

do,”thelittlepriestanswers.“Idon’t,”themansaysslowlyanddeliberately.“Idon’tbelieveinagoddamnedthing.”Thepriestblushes.Hissoft,embarrassedlaughterislikethepatterofchildren’sfeetupalong

staircase.Hetoucheshiscollarnervously.“Whenthepowerdied,Ibelieveditwouldcomebackon,”themanwiththeriflesays.“Everybody

did.Thepowergoesout—thepowercomesbackon.That’sfaith,right?”Hegnawedthegum,leftside,rightside,pushingthegreenknobbackandforthwithhistongue.“Thenthenewstricklesinfromthecoaststhattherearenocoastsanymore.NowRenoisprimeoceanfrontproperty.Bigdeal;sowhat?There’vebeenearthquakesbefore.There’vebeentsunamis.WhoneedsNewYork?What’ssospecialaboutCalifornia?We’llbounceback.Wealwaysbounceback.Ibelievedthat.”

Thewatchmanisnodding,staringatthenightsky,atthecold,blazingstars.Eyeshigh,voicelow.“Thenpeoplegotsick.Antibiotics.Quarantines.Disinfectants.Weputonmasksandwashedourhandsuntilourskinpeeledoff.Mostofusdiedanyway.”

AndthemanwiththeriflewatchesthestarsasifwaitingforthemtoshakeloosefromtheblackandtumbletotheEarth.Whyshouldn’tthey?

“Myneighbors.Myfriends.Mywifeandkids.Iknewthatallofthemwouldn’tdie.Howcouldallofthemdie?Somepeoplewillgetsick,butmostpeoplewon’t,andtherestwillgetbetter,right?That’sfaith.That’swhatwebelieved.”

Themanpullsalargehuntingknifefromhisbootandbeginstocleanthedirtfrombeneathhisnailswithitstip.

“Thisisfaith:Yougrowup;yougotoschool.Findajob.Getmarried.Startafamily.”Finishingthejobononehand,anailforeachriteofpassage,thenbeginningontheother.“Yourkidsgrowup.Theygotoschool.Theyfindajob.Theygetmarried.Theystartafamily.”Scrape,scrape.Scrape,scrape,scrape.Hepusheshishatbackwiththeheelofthehandthatwieldstheknife.“Iwasneverwhatyou’dcallareligiousperson.Haven’tseentheinsideofachurchintwentyyears.ButIknowwhatfaithis,Father.Iknowwhatitistobelieveinsomething.Thelightsgoout,theycomebackon.Thefloodwatersrollin,theyrolloutagain.Folksgetsick,theygetbetter.Lifegoeson.That’struefaith,isn’tit?Yourmumbo-jumboaboutheavenandhell,sinandsalvation,throwitalloutandyou’restillleftwiththat.Evenyourbiggestchurch-bashingatheisthasfaithinthat.Lifewillgoon.”

“Yes,”thepriestsays.“Lifewillgoon.”Thewatchmanbareshisteeth.Hejabstheknifetowardthepriest’schestandsnarls,“Youhaven’t

heardadamnwordI’vesaid.See,thisiswhyIcan’tstandyourkind.YoulightyourcandlesandmumbleyourLatinspellsandpraytoagodwhoisn’tthere,doesn’tcare,orisjustplaincrazyorcruelorboth.Theworldburnsandyoupraisetheassholewhoeithersetitorletit.”

Thelittlepriesthasraisedhishands,thesamehandsthatconsecratedthebreadandwine,asiftoshowthemanthattheyareempty,thathemeansnoharm.

“Idon’tpretendtoknowthemindofGod,”thepriestbegins,loweringhishands.Eyeingtheknife,hequotesfromthebookofJob:“‘ThereforeIhavedeclaredthatwhichIdidnotunderstand,thingstoowonderfulforme,whichIdidnotknow.’”

Themanstaresathimforaverylong,veryuncomfortablemoment,absolutelystillexceptforhisjawworkingthealreadytastelessknobofgum.

“I’mgoingtobehonestwithyou,Father,”hesaysmatter-of-factly.“Ifeellikekillingyourightnow.”

Thepriestnodssomberly.“I’mafraidthatmayhappen.Whenthetruthhitshome.”Heeasestheknifefromtheman’sshakinghand.Thepriesttouchestheman’sshoulder.

Themanflinchesbutdoesn’tpullaway.“Whatisthetruth?”themanwhispers.“This,”thelittlepriestanswers,anddrivestheknifedeepintotheman’schest.Thebladeisverysharp—itslidesthroughtheman’sshirteasily,glidingbetweentheribsbefore

sinkingthreeinchesintotheheart.Thepriestpullsthemantohischestandkissesthetopofhishead.MayGodgiveyoupardonand

peace.Itisoverquickly.Thegumdropsfromtheman’sslackenedlips,andthepriestpicksitupand

tossesitthroughthecave’smouth.Heeasesthemanontothecoldstonefloorandstandsup.Thewetknifeglimmersinhishand.Thebloodofthenewandeverlastingcovenant...

Theprieststudiesthedeadman’sface,andhisheartburnswithrageandrevulsion.Thehumanfaceishideous,unendurablygrotesque.Noneedtohidehisdisgustanymore.

ThelittlepriestreturnstotheBigRoom,followingawell-wornpathintothemainchamber,wheretheotherstwitchandturninrestlesssleep.AllexceptAgatha,wholeansagainstthebackwallofthechamber,asmallwomanlostinthefur-linedjacketthelittlepriesthadlenther,herfrizzofunwashedhairacycloneofgrayandblack.Grimenestlesinthedeepcrevicesofherwitheredface,aroundamouthbereftofdentureslongsincelostandeyesburiedinfoldsofsaggingskin.Thisishumanity,thepriestthinks.Thisisitsface.“Father,isthatyou?”Hervoiceisbarelyaudible,amouse’ssqueak,arat’shigh-pitchedcry.Andthis,humanity’svoice.“Yes,Agatha.It’sme.”Shesquintsintothehumanmaskhehaswornsinceinfancy,obscuredinshadow.“Ican’tsleep,

Father.Willyousitwithmeawhile?”“Yes,Agatha.Iwillsitwithyou.”

2HECARRIESTHEREMAINSofhisvictimstothesurfacetwoatatime,oneundereacharm,andthrowsthemintothepit,droppingthemdownwithoutceremonybeforedescendingforanotherload.AfterAgatha,hekilledtherestastheyslept.Noonewoke.Thepriestworkedquietly,quickly,withsure,steadyhands,andtheonlynoisewasthewhisperofclothtearingasthebladesankhomeintotheheartsofallforty-six,untilhiswastheonlyheartleftbeating.

Atdawnitbeginstosnow.Hestandsoutsideforamomentandliftshisfacetoaskythatisblankandgray.Snowsettlesonhispalecheeks.Hislastwinterforaverylongtime:Attheequinox,thepodwilldescendtoreturnhimtothemothership,wherehe’llwaitoutthefinalcleansingofthehumaninfestationbytheonestheyhavetrainedforthetask.Onceonboardthevessel,fromtheserenityofthevoid,hewillwatchastheylaunchthebombsthatwillobliterateeverycityonEarth,wipingcleanthevestigesofhumancivilization.Theapocalypsedreamedofbyhumankindsincethedawnofitsconsciousnesswillfinallybedelivered—notbyanangrygod,butindifferently,ascoldasthelittlepriestwhenheplungedtheknifeintohisvictims’hearts.

Thesnowmeltsonhisupturnedface.Fourmonthsuntilwinter ’send.Onehundredandtwentydaysuntilthebombsfall,thentheunleashingofthe5thWave,thehumanpawnstheyhaveconditionedtokilltheirownkind.Untilthen,thepriestwillremaintoslaughteranysurvivorswhowanderintohisterritory.

Almostover.Almostthere.ThelittlepriestdescendsintothePalaceoftheGodsandbreakshisfast.

3RINGER

BESIDEME,Razorwhispered,“Run.”Hissidearmexplodedbesidemyear.Histargetwasthesmallestthingthatisthesumofallthings,

hisbullettheswordthatseveredthechainthatboundmetoher.Teacup.AsRazordied,heliftedhissoft,soulfuleyestomineandwhispered,“You’refree.Run.”Iran.

4ISMASHTHROUGHthewatchtowerwindow,thegroundrushinguptomeetme.

WhenIlandonthetarmac,notasinglebonewillbreak.Iwillfeelnopain.Ihavebeenenhancedbytheenemytowithstandgreaterfallsthanthis.Mylastfallbeganatfivethousandfeet.Thisoneiscake.

Iland,rolltomyfeet,andsprintaroundthetower,thendowntherunwaytowardtheconcretebarrierandthefencetoppedinrazorwire.Thewindscreamsinmyears.IamfasternowthanthefastestanimalonEarth.Thecheetahisatortoisecomparedtome.

Thesentriesontheperimetermustseeme,andthemaninthewatchtower,too,butnoshotsarefired,noorderisgiventotakemedown.Ibarreltowardtheendoftherunwaylikeabulletsingingdownthemuzzleofagun.Theycan’tcatchyou.Howcantheyevercatchyou?TheprocessorembeddedinmybrainmadethecalculationsbeforeIevenhittheground,andhas

alreadyrelayedtheinformationtothethousandsofmicroscopicdronesassignedtomymuscularsystem;Idon’thavetothinkaboutspeedortimingorpointofattack.Thehubdoesitforme.

Endoftherunway:Ileap.Theballofmyfootlandsontopoftheconcretebarrierforaninstant,thenpushesofftolaunchmetowardthefence.Therazorwirerushestowardmyface.Myfingersslipintothetwo-inch-widegapbetweenthecoilsandthetopbartoexecuteabackwardrolloverthetop.Iflyoveritfeetfirst,backarched,armsoutstretched.

Istickthelandingandaccelerateagaintofullspeed,coveringthehundredyardsofopengroundbetweenthefenceandthewoodsinlessthanfourseconds.Nobulletschaseme.Nochopperrevstolifetofollowme.Thetreesclosebehindmelikeacurtainbeingdrawn,andmyfootingissureontheslick,unevenground.Ireachtheriver,itswaterswiftandblack.MyfeetseemtobarelybreakthesurfaceasIcross.

Ontheotherside,thewoodsgivewaytoopentundra,unmarredmilesstretchingtowardthenorthernhorizon,aboundlesswildernessinwhichI’llbelost,undetected,unmolested.

Free.Irunforhours.The12thSystemsustainsme.Itreinforcesmyjointsandbones.Itbolstersmy

muscles,givesmestrength,endurance,nullifiesmypain.AllIhavetodoissurrender.AllIhavetodoistrust,andIwillendure.VQP.Bythelightofahundredbodiesburning,Razorcarvedthosethreelettersintohisarm.VQP.

Heconquerswhoendures.Somethings,hetoldmethenightbeforehedied,downtothesmallestofthings,areworththesum

ofallthings.RazorunderstoodthatIwouldneverleaveTeacuptosufferwhileIescaped.Ishouldhaveknown

hewasgoingtosavemebybetrayingme:He’dbeendoingitfromthebeginning.HekilledTeacup

soIcouldlive.Thefeaturelesslandscapeextendsineverydirection.Thesunfallstowardtheedgeofthe

cloudlesssky.Inthebitterwindbitingmyface,mytearsfreezeastheyfall.The12thSystemcanprotectyoufromthepainthatafflictsyourbody,butit’shelplessagainstthepainthatcrushesyoursoul.

Hourslater,I’mstillrunningasthelastlightleechesfromtheskyandthefirststarsappear.Andthereisthemothershiphoveringonthehorizon,likealidlessgreeneyestaringdown.Norunningfromit.Nohiding.Itisunreachable,unassailable.Longafterthelasthumanbeingcrumblestoahandfulofdust,itwillbethere,implacable,impenetrable,unknowable:Godhasbeendethroned.

AndIrunon.Throughaprimordiallandscapeunscarredbyanyhumanthing,theworldasitwasbeforetrustandcooperationunleashedthebeastofprogress.Theworldiscirclingbacknowtowhatitwasbeforeweknewit.Paradiselost.Paradisereturned.IrememberVosch’ssmile,sadandbitter.Asavior.IsthatwhatIam?

Runningtowardnothing,runningawayfromnothing,runningacrossanemptylandscapeofflawlesswhitebeneaththeimmensityoftheindifferentsky,Iseeitnow.IthinkIunderstand.

Reducethehumanpopulationtoasustainablenumber,thencrushthehumanityoutofit,sincetrustandcooperationaretherealthreatstothedelicatebalanceofnature,theunacceptablesinsthatdrovetheworldtotheedgeofacliff.TheOthersconcludedthattheonlywaytosavetheworldwastoannihilatecivilization.Notfromwithout,butfromwithin.Theonlywaytoannihilatehumancivilizationwastochangehumannature.

5ICONTINUEDRUNNINGintothewilderness.Therewasstillnopursuit.Asthedayspassed,IworriedlessaboutchoppersswoopinginandstriketeamsdroppingdownandmoreaboutstayingwarmandfindingthefreshwaterandproteinIneededtosustainthefragilehostofthe12thSystem.Idugholestohidein,builtlean-tostosleepunder.Ihonedtreebranchesintospearsandhuntedrabbitandmooseandatetheirmeatraw.Ididn’tdaremakeafire,eventhoughIknewhow;atCampHaventheenemyhadtaughtme.TheenemyhadtaughtmeeverythingIneededtoknowaboutsurvivalinthewilderness,thengavemealientechnologythathelpedmybodyadapttoit.Hetaughtmehowtokillandhowtoavoidbeingkilled.Hetaughtmewhathumanbeingshadforgottenaftertencenturiesofcooperationandtrust.Hetaughtmeaboutfear.

Lifeisacircleboundbyfear.Thefearofthepredator.Thefearoftheprey.Withoutfear,lifewouldnotexist.ItriedtoexplainthattoZombieonce,butIdon’tthinkheunderstood.

Ilastedfortydaysinthewilderness.And,no,thesymbolismwasn’tlostonme.Icouldhavelastedlonger.The12thSystemwouldhavesustainedmewellpastahundredyears.

QueenMarika,thelone,ancienthuntress,asoullesshuskgnawingonthedriedbonesofdeadanimals,uncontestedsovereignofameaninglessdomain,untilthesystemfinallycollapsedandherbodyfellapartorwasdevouredbyscavengers,herbonesscatteredlikeunreadrunesinanabandonedlandscape.

Iwentback.Bythatpoint,Irealizedwhytheyweren’tcoming.Voschwastwomovesaheadofme;healwayshadbeen.Teacupwasdeadnow,butIwasstill

boundtoapromiseInevermadetoapersonwhowasprobablydead,too.Butprobabilityhadbecomemeaningless.

HeknewIcouldn’tabandonZombie,notwhentherewasachanceIcouldsavehim.Andtherewasonlyonewaytosavehim;Voschknewthat,too.IhadtokillEvanWalker.

6CASSIE

I’MGOINGTOKILLEvanWalker.Thebrooding,enigmatic,self-involved,secretivebastard.I’mgoingtoputhispoor,tortured,

human-alienhybridsouloutofitsmisery.You’rethemayfly.You’rethethingworthdyingfor.IwokeupwhenIsawmyselfinyou.Oh,puke.

LastnightIgaveSamsabath—thefirstinthreeweeks—andhedamnnearbrokemynose,orIshouldsayrebrokemynose,sinceEvan’soldgirlfriend(orfriendwithbenefitsorwhatevershewas)brokeitfirstbyslammingmyfaceintoadoorbehindwhichwasmylittlebrother,thelittleshitIwastryingtosaveandthesamelittleshitwhonearlybrokeitagain.Seetheironythere?There’sprobablysomesymbolism,too,butit’slateandIhaven’tsleptin,like,threedays,soforgetit.

BacktoEvanandthereasonI’mgoingtokillhim.Basically,itboilsdowntothealphabet.AfterSamhitmeonthenose,Iburstoutofthebathroom,soakingwet,whereuponIsmackedinto

BenParish’schest.BenwaslurkinginthehallwayasifeverylittlethingthathastodowithSamishisresponsibility,theaforesaidlittleshitscreamingobscenitiesatmyback,theonlydrypartofmybodyaftertryingtowashhis,andBenParish,thelivingreminderofmyfather ’sfavoritesayingthatit’sbettertobeluckythansmart,gavemethatridiculouswhat’sup?look,sostupidlycutethatIwastemptedtobreakhisnose,therebymakinghimnotsodamnBenParish–ylooking.

“Youshouldbedead,”Isaidtohim.IknowIjustwrotethatIwasgoingtokillEvan,butyouneedtounderstand—oh,screwit.Nooneisevergoingtoreadthis.BythetimeI’mgone,therewon’tbeanyonewhocanread.Sothisisn’tbeingwrittenforyou,futurereaderwhowon’texist.It’sforme.

“Probably,”Bensaid.“WhataretheoddsthatsomeoneIknewfrombeforewouldstillbeherenow?”Hethoughtaboutit.Orpretendedtothinkaboutit:He’saguy.“Aboutsevenbilliontoone?”“Ithinkthatwouldbesevenbilliontotwo,Ben,”Isaid.“Orthreepointfivebilliontoone.”“Wow.Thatmuch?”Hejerkedhisheadtowardthebathroomdoor.“What’supwithNugget?”“Sam.HisnameisSam.CallhimNuggetagainandI’llkneeyouinyours.”Hesmiled.ThenheeitherpretendedtogetwhatIsaidabeatlaterorheimmediatelyunderstood

whatIsaid,butanyway,thesmilemorphedintoatight-lippedlookofwoundedpride.“They’reslightlylargerthannuggets.Slightly.”Thenclick!thesmileflashedbackon.“Wantmetotalktohim?”

ItoldhimIdidn’tgiveashitwhathedid;Ihadbetterthingstodo,likekillingEvanWalker.

Istormeddownthehallway,intothelivingroom,stillcloseenough—ornotfarenoughaway—tohearSamyell,“Idon’tcare,Zombie.Idon’tcare,Idon’tcare.Ihateher,”pastDumboandMegansittingonthesofaworkingonajigsawpuzzlesomebodyfoundinthekids’room,ascenefromaDisneycartoonorsomething,andtheireyescutawayasIbarreledpast,likeDon’tmindus,wewon’tstopyou,you’regood,nobodysawnothin’.

Outsideontheporchit’scoldashellbecausespringrefusestocome.Springisnevercomingbecauseextinctioneventspissitoff.OrtheOthershaveengineeredanotherIceAgejustbecausetheycan,becausewhysettlefordoomedhumanswhenyoucanhavecold,starving,andmiserabledoomedhumans?Somuchmoresatisfyingthatway.

Hewasleaningontherailingtotaketheweightoffhisbadankle,theriflenestledinthecrookofhisarm,wearinghisuniformofawrinkledplaidshirtandskinnyjeans.Hisfacelitupwhenhesawmebangingopenthescreendoor.Hiseyesdrankmein.Oh,theEvannessofitall,howhegulpsdownmypresencelikeaguystumblinguponanoasisinthedesert.

Islappedhim.“Whydidyoujusthitme?”heasked,afterrackingtenthousandyears’worthofalienwisdomfor

theanswer.“DoyouknowwhyI’mwet?”Iasked.Heshookhishead.“Whyareyouwet?”“Iwasgivingmybabybrotherabath.WhywasIgivinghimabath?”“Becausehewasdirty?”“ForthesamereasonIspentaweekcleaningupthisdumpafterwemovedin.”Shemayhavebeen

asupercharged,technologicallyenhancedalien-humanhybridwiththelooksofaNorwegianiceprincessandthehearttomatch,butGracewasaterriblehousekeeper.Dustpiledineverycornerlikesnowdrifts,moldgrowingontopofmold,akitchenthatwouldmakeahoarderblush.“Becausethat’swhathumanbeingsdo,Evan.Wedon’tliveinfilth.Webathe.Wewashourhairandwebrushourteethandweshaveoffunwantedhair—”

“Samneedstoshave?”Tryingtobefunny.Dumbidea.“Shutup!I’mtalking.WhenItalk,youdon’ttalk.Whenyoutalk,Idon’ttalk.That’sanotherthing

humansdo.Theytreateachotherwithrespect.Respect,Evan.”Henoddedsomberly.“Respect,”heechoed—whichmademeevenangrier.Hewashandlingme.“It’sallaboutrespect.Beingcleanandnotstinkinglikeapigisaboutrespect.”“Pigsdon’tstink.”“Shut.Up.”“Well,Igrewuponafarm,that’sall.”Ishookmyhead.“Ohno,thatisn’tall.Thatisn’thalfofall.ThepartofyouIslappeddidn’tgrow

uponanygoddamnedfarm.”Helefthisrifleleaningagainsttherailingandlimpedovertotheswing.Hesat.Hegazedoffinto

themiddledistance.“Itisn’tmyfaultSamneededabath.”“Ofcourseit’syourfault.Allofthisisyourfault.”Helookedatme,andhistonewascontrolled.“Cassie,Ithinkyoushouldgobackinsidenow.”“What,beforeyouloseyourtemper?Oh,pleaseloseitforonce.Iwouldlovetoseewhatthat

lookslike.”“You’recold.”

“No,I’mnot.”AsIrealizedhowbadlyIwasshaking,standinginfrontofhiminmywetclothes.Icywaterdrippeddownthebackofmyneckandtracedapathdownmyspine.Ifoldedmyarmsovermychestandwilledmy(freshlybrushed,veryclean)teethtostopchattering.

“Sam’sforgottenhisABCs,”Iinformedhim.Hestaredatmeforalongfourseconds.“I’msorry,what?”“HisABCs.Youknow,thealphabet,youintergalacticswineherd.”“Well.”Hiseyeswanderedfrommyfacetotheemptyroadacrossfromtheemptyyardthat

stretchedtowardemptyhorizonsoverwhichthereweremoreemptyroadsandwoodsandfieldsandtownsandcities,theworldonebighollowed-outgourd,aslopbucketofemptiness.Emptiedbythingslikehim,thewhatever-he-wasbeforeheinsertedhimselfintoahumanbodylikeahandupapuppet’sass.

Heleanedforwardandshruggedoutofhisjacket,thesamestupidbowlingjacketheshowedupinattheoldhotel(TheUrbanaPinheads),andhelditout.

“Please?”MaybeIshouldn’thavetakenit.Imean,thepatternkeptrepeatingitself:I’mcold,hewarmsme.

I’mhurt,hehealsme.I’mhungry,hefeedsme.I’mdown,hepicksmeup.I’mliketheholeatthebeachthatkeepsfillingupwithwater.

I’mnotabigperson;thejacketengulfedme.Andthewarmthfromhisbody,that,too.Itsteadiedme—notnecessarilythefactthatthewarmthcamefromhisbody,justthewarmthitself.

“Anotherthinghumanbeingsdoislearntheiralphabets,”Isaid.“Sotheycanread.Sotheycanlearnthings.Thingslikehistoryandmathandscienceandpracticallyeverythingelseyoucanname,includingthereallyimportantthingslikeartandcultureandfaithandwhythingshappenandwhyotherthingsdon’tandwhyanythingevenexistsinthefirstplace.”

Myvoicebroke.Uninvited,there’sthatimageagain,ofmyfatherpullingaredwagonloadedwithbooksafterthe3rdWaveandhislectureaboutpreservingknowledgeandrebuildingcivilizationoncethatpeskylittlealienproblemwasdisposedof.God,howsad,howpitiful:abalding,bent-shoulderedmanshufflingdowndesertedstreetswithawagonloadofscavengedlibrarybooksbehindhim.Whileotherslootedcannedgoodsandweaponsandhardwaretofortifytheirhomesagainstmarauders,myfatherdecidedthewisestcourseofactionwastohoardreadingmaterial.

“Hecanlearnthemagain,”Evantried.“Youcanteachhim.”Ittookeverythinginmenottogivehimanothersmack.TherewasatimewhenIthoughtIwasthe

lastlivingpersononEarth,whichmademeallofhumanity.Evanisn’ttheonlyonewhoowesanunpayabledebt.I’mhumanity,he’sthem,andafterwhatthey’vedonetous,humanityshouldbreakeveryboneintheirbodies.

“That’snotthepoint,”Itoldhim.“Thepointis,Idon’tunderstandwhyyoudiditthisway.Youcouldhavekilledusallwithoutbeingsogoddamncruelaboutit.YouknowwhatIfoundouttonight,besidesthefactthatmylittlebrotherhatesmyguts?It’snotjusttheABCshe’sforgotten.Hedoesn’trememberwhatourmomlookedlike.Hedoesn’trememberhisownmother ’sface.”

ThenIlostit.IwrappedmyselftightinthatstupidPinheadjacketandbawled,becauseIdidn’tcareanymoreifEvansawmeloseit,becauseifanyoneshouldhaveseen,it’shim,thesnipermurderingfromadistance,comfyinhisfarmhousewhile,twohundredmilesoverhishead,themothershipunleashedthreeescalatingwavesofdevastation.Fivehundredthousandinthefirstattack,millionsinthesecond,billionsinthethird.Andwhiletheworldburned,EvanWalkerwassmokingdeerbrisketandtakingleisurelywalksinthewoodsandloungingbyacozyfire,buffinghisperfectnails.

Heshouldseethefaceofhumansufferingupclose.Toolonghe’sbeenlikethemothership,hoveringabovethehorror,untouchableandremote;heneedstoseeit,touchit,pressitagainsthisperfectlyshaped,whollyunbrokennoseandsmellit.

ThewaySammyhas.Ifeltlikerunninginsideandyankinghimoutofthetubanddragginghimnakedontotheporch,whereEvanWalkercouldcounthisbonyribsandfeelhistinywristsandtracethehollowed-outtemplesandexaminethescarsandsoresofthelittleboyhe’stortured,thechildwhosemindhe’semptiedofmemoriesandwhosehearthe’sfilledwithhateandhopelessnessanduselessrage.

Evanstartedtostand—topullmeintohisarms,nodoubt,tostrokemyhairanddrymytearsandmurmurthateverythingwasgoingtobeallright,becausethat’shisMO—butthenhethoughtbetterofit.Hesatbackdown.

“Itoldyou,Cassie,”hesaidsoftly.“Ididn’twantittohappenthisway.Ifoughtagainstit.”“Untilyouwentalongwithit.”Stillworkingtogetagrip.Alongcameoutathree-syllableword.

“Andwhatdoyoumean,youdidn’twantittohappen‘thisway’?”Heshiftedhisweight.Theswingcreaked.Hiseyesstrayedbacktotheemptyroad.“Wecouldhave

livedamongyouindefinitely.Hidden,undetectable.Wecouldhaveinsertedourselvesintoleadingrolesinyoursociety.Wecouldhavesharedourknowledge,exponentiallyexpandingyourpotential,speedingyourevolution.It’sconceivablewecouldhavegivenyoutheonethingyou’vealwayswantedandneverhad.”

“What?”Isnuffledthesnotbackintomynose;Ididn’thaveatissueanddidn’tevencarethatitwasgross.TheArrivalhadalteredthewholedefinitionofgross.

“Peace,”heanswered.“Couldhave.Couldhave.”Henodded.“Whenthatoptionwasrejected,Iarguedforsomething...quicker.”“Quicker?”“Anasteroid.Youdidn’thavethetechnologytostopitorthetimeevenifyoudid.Itwasasimple

solution,butitwasn’tacleanone.Theworldwouldn’thavebeenhabitableforathousandyears.”“Andthatmattersbecausewhy?You’repureconsciousness,immortallikegods.What’sa

thousandyearstoyou?”Apparentlythatquestionhadaverycomplicatedanswer.Oronehedidn’twanttosharewithme.Thenhesaid:“Fortenthousandyearswehadthethingthatyouonlydreamedoffortenthousand

years.”Hegaveashort,humorlesslaugh.“Anexistencewithoutpain,withouthunger,withoutanyphysicalneedsatall.Butimmortalityhasaprice.Withoutbodies,welostthethingsthatcomewiththem.Thingslikeautonomyandbenevolence.Compassion.”Heopenedhishandsasiftoshowmetheywereempty.“Samisn’ttheonlyonewho’sforgottenhisABCs.”

“Ihateyou,”Isaid.Heshookhishead.“No,youdon’t.”“Iwanttohateyou.”“Ihopeyoufail.”“Don’tlietoyourself,Evan.Youdon’tloveme—youlovetheideaofme.You’vemesseditallup

inyourhead.YoulovewhatIrepresent.”Hecockedhishead,andhisbrowneyesweresparklingbrighterthanthestars.“Whatdoyou

represent,Cassie?”“Whatyouthoughtyoulost.Whatyouthoughtyoucouldneverhave.I’mnotthat;I’mjustme.”“Andwhatareyou?”

Iknewwhathemeant.And,ofcourse,Ihadnocluewhathemeant.Thiswasit,thethingbetweenus,thethingneitherofuscouldputourfingerson,theunbreakablebondbetweenloveandfear.Evan’sthelove.Iamthefear.

7BENWASWAITINGtopouncetheminuteIwentbackinside.IknewhewaswaitingtopouncebecausetheminuteIwentbackinside,hepounced.

“Everythingokay?”heasked.Iscrubbedthetearsfrommycheeksandlaughed.Sure,Parish,asidefromthiswholeannoying

alienapocalypsething,everything’sgreat.“Themoreheexplains,thelessIunderstand,”Isaid.“Itoldyousomething’snotrightwiththatdude,”hesaid,beingverycarefulnottosayItoldyou

so.Okay,notreally.Hewasbasicallysayingit.“Whatwouldyoudoifyoudidn’thaveabodyfortenthousandyearsandthenallofasuddenyou

did?”Iasked.Hecockedhisheadandfoughtbackasmile.“Probablygotothebathroom.”DumboandMeganhadclearedout.Wewerealone.Benwasstandingbythefireplaceandgolden

lightdancedoverhisface,whichhadfilledoutsomeinthesixweekswehadbeenholedupinGrace’ssafehouse.Plentyofrest,food,freshwater,andantibiotics,andBenwasalmostbacktohispre-invasionself.He’dnevergetallthewayback.Therewasstillahauntedlookinhiseyes,awarinesstohim,likearabbitinahawk-patrolledmeadow.

Hewasn’ttheonlyone.Afterwereachedthesafehouse,ittooktwoweeksformetoworkupthecouragetolookinthemirror.Theexperiencewaslikerunningintosomeoneyouhadn’tseensincemiddleschool—yourecognizethem,butwhatyoureallynoticeisthewaysthey’vechanged.Theydon’tmatchyourmemoryofhowtheyshouldlookandforasecondyou’rethrownoff,becauseyourmemoryofthemisthem.SowhenIlookedinthemirror,Isawaselfthatdidn’tmatchthememoryofmyself,particularlythenose,whichnowveeredslightlytotheright,thankstoGrace,butI’veletthatgo,there’snohardfeelings.Mynosemaybecrookednow,buthershasbeenvaporized—alongwiththerestofher.

“How’sSam?”Iasked.Benjerkedhisheadtowardthebackofthehouse.“HangingwithMeganandDumbo.He’sokay.”“Hehatesmyguts.”“Hedoesn’thateyourguts.”“Hetoldmehehatesmyguts.”“Kidssaythingstheydon’tmean.”“Notjustkids.”Henodded.Helookedovermyshouldertowardthefrontdoor.“Ringerwasright,Cassie.This

doesn’tmakealotofsense.Hekidnapsahumanbodysohecanmurderalltheunkidnappedhumanbodies.Thenonedayhedecideshe’drathermurderhisownkindsohecansavealltheunkidnapped

humanbodies.Andnotjustmurderoneortwoofhiskindhereorthere.Allofthem.Hewantstodestroyhisentirecivilization,andforwhat?Foragirl.Agirl!”

Wrongthingtosay.Heknewit,too.Butjustincasetherewasanyquestion,Isaid,veryslowly,“Youknow,Parish,itmaybealittlemorecomplicatedthanthat.Thereisahumanpartofhim,too.”Oh,Jesus,Cass,what’sthematterwithyou?Oneminuteyou’refuriousathim,thenextyou’redefendinghim.

Hisexpressionhardened.“I’mnotworriedaboutthehumanpart.Iknowyouweren’tcrazyabouther,butRinger ’sprettydamnsmartandshemadeagoodpoint:Iftheydon’tneedbodies,theydon’tneedaplanet.Andiftheydon’tneedaplanet,whydidtheycomeforours?”

“Idon’tknow,”Isnapped.“Whydon’tyouaskRinger,sinceshe’ssodamnsmart?”Hetookabreath,andthenhesaid,“I’mgoingto.”Ittookasecondformetounderstandwhathemeant.Thenanothertogetthathewasserious.A

thirdsecondtodosomethingaboutthefirsttwoseconds,whichwastositdown.“I’vethoughtalotaboutthis,”hebegan.Thenhestopped.Likehehadtomincewords—withmeof

allpeople!LikeIhadatemperorsomething.“AndIthinkIknowwhatyou’regoingtosay,butbeforeyousayit,youneedtohearmeout.Justhearmeout,okay?IfWalker ’stellingthetruth,we’vegotfourdaysuntilthepodarrivesandheleavestodohisthing.That’smorethanenoughtimeformetogetthereandback.”

“Togetwhereandback,Ben?”“Iwon’tgoalone.I’lltakeDumbowithme.”“Okaaaay.Withyouwhere?”ThenIgotit.“Thecaverns.”Henoddedquickly,relievedthatIunderstood.“It’skillingme,Cassie.Ican’tstopthinkingabout

them.MaybeCupcaughtupwithRingerand—well,maybeshedidn’t.Shemightbedead.Ringermightbedead.Oh,hell,theyprobablyaredead—ormaybethey’renot.MaybetheymadeittothecavernsandRingercamebacktothehoteltogetus,onlytherewasnoustheretogetbecausetherewasnotheretocomebackto.Anyway,aliveordead,they’reoutthere.Andifthey’realive,theyhavenocluewhat’scoming.They’lldieunlesssomeonegoesbackforthem.”

Hetookahuge,shudderingbreath,thefirstsinceheblastedofftheverballaunchingpad.“Gobackforthem,”Isaid.“LikeyouwentbackforSam.Likeyoudidn’tgobackfor—”“Yes.No.Oh,shit.”Hisfacewasredanditwasn’tfromstandingtooclosetothefire.Heknew

whatIwassaying.“Thishasnothingtodowithmysister...”“Youranawayandyou’vebeentryingtogobackeversince.”Hesteppedtowardme.Awayfromthefirelight,hisfaceplungedintoshadow.“Youdon’tknowa

damnthing.Iknowthatreallybothersyou,becauseCassieSullivanknowseverything,right?”“Whatdoyouwantfromme,Ben?I’mnotyourmotherorcommandingofficerorwhatever.Do

whatyouwant.”Istoodup.ThenIsatbackdown.Therewasnowheretogo.Well,Icouldgotothekitchenand

makeasandwich,excepttherewasnobreadordelimeatorcheese.Idon’tknowtheparticulars,butI’mprettysurethere’saSubwayoneverycornerinheaven.AlsoGodivastores.Onourseconddayhere,IfoundGrace’sstashofforty-sixboxesofGodivachocolates.NotthatIcountedthem.

“I’mhavingabadday,”Itoldhim.Mylittlebrotherhatedme,myhuman-alienpersonalsecurityguardconfessedhedoesn’tknowcompassionfromcompost,andnowmyoldhighschoolcrushinformsmehe’sembarkingonasuicidemissiontorescuetwomissingandprobablydeadpeople.PlusIwantedasandwichthatIcouldneverhave.SincetheArrival,I’vebeenbesetbymorecravingsthanawomanpregnantwithtriplets,andalwaysforthingsI’llnevertasteagain.Chocolateicecream

cones.Frozenpizza.Whippedcreaminacan.ThosecinnamonrollsMommadeeverySaturdaymorning.McDonald’sfrenchfries.Bacon.No,baconwasstillapossibility.Iwouldjusthavetofindahog,slaughterit,butcherit,curethemeat,thenfryitup.Thinkingaboutthebacon—thepotentialofbacon—givesmehope.Notallislostifbaconisn’t.

Seriously.“I’msorry,”Bensaid.“Ishouldn’thavegoneofflikethat.”Hecameoverandsatdownabouttwoinchestooclose.IusedtofantasizeaboutBenParishsitting

withmeonthesofaatmyhousewhilewesharedablanketandwatchedoldhorrormoviesuntiloneA.M.,holdingabigbowlofpopcorninhislap.ItwasaSaturdaynightandhewasmissingaboutsixkillerpartiespopulatedbypeoplewaycoolerthanme,buthewouldn’tbeanywhereelse;thepleasureofmycompanywasenough.

Nowherehewas,onlytherewerenokillerparties,noTV,noblanket,andnodamnpopcorn.TheworldusedtocontaintwoBens—therealBen,whodidn’tknowIexisted,andtheimaginaryBen,whofedmepopcornwithbutteryfingers.Nowtherewerethree.Thefirsttwoandtheonewhowassittingtwoinchestooclose,wearingatightblacksweaterandsportingstubblethatmadehimlooklikeanindierockertakingabreakinthegreenroombetweensets.That’salotofBenstoholdinyourheadatonce.Ishouldgivethemdifferentnamestokeepthemstraight:Ben,Has-Ben,andWhat-Might-Have-Ben.

“Igetit,”Isaid.“Butwhydoyouhavetogonow?Whycan’tyouwait?IfEvancanpullthisoff...”

Hewasshakinghishead.“Whetherornothepullsitoffwon’tmakeadifference.Thedangerisn’tthealiensupthere.Thedangeristhehumansdownhere.IneedtofindRingerandCupbeforethe5thWavedoes.”

Hepulledmyhandintohis,andalittlevoiceroseupfromdeepinside:Ben.Thatlittlevoicebelongedtothefrizzy-hairedmiddle-schoolerwhorefusedtodie,thefreckly-nosed,introvertedknow-it-all,self-consciousandawkwarddespitedancelessonsandkaratelessonsandpeptalksfromherparents,totingaroundabulgingbagofsecrets,thesilly,mundane,melodramaticsecretsofadolescencethatwouldshockthepopular,prettykids,ifonlytheyknew.

Whatwasupwithher?Whywouldn’tshejustgoawayalready?NotonlywasIcarryingaroundtoomanyBens,therewerealsotoomanyCassies.ThreeBens,twoCassies,acoupleofSams,and,ofcourse,theliteraldualityofEvanWalker.Nobodywasintegratedanymore.Ourtrueselvesshimmeredlikeadesertmirageforeverrecedingintothedistance.

Bentouchedmyface,fingertipsbrushingmycheek,feather-light.Andthatlittlevoiceinmyhead,thatfadingcry:Ben.

Thenmyvoice:“You’regoingtodie.”“YoubetIam,”hesaidwithasmile.“Andit’sgonnahappenthewayitshould.Nottheirway.My

way.”Thefrontdoorcreakedonitsrustyhingesandavoicesaid,“She’sright,Ben.Youshouldwait.”Benpulledawayfromme.Evanwasleaninginthedoorway.“Nobodyaskedyou,”Bensaid.“Theshipiscentraltothenextphase,”Evansaidslowlyanddistinctly,likehewastalkingtoa

crazypersonoramoron.“Blowingitupistheonlywaywecanendthis.”“Idon’tcarewhatyoublowup,”Bensaid.Heturnedawaylikehecouldn’tstandtolookatEvan.

“Idon’tevengiveashitaboutendingit.Maybeit’shardforsomebodywithasaviorcomplextounderstand,butIdon’twanttosavetheworld.Justtwopeople.”

Hestoodup,steppedovermylegs,andwalkedtowardthehallway.Evancalledafterhim,andwhathesaidstoppedBencold.

“Thespringequinoxisinfourdays.IfIdon’tgettothatshipandblowitup,everycityonEarthwillbedestroyed.”Holyshit.IlookedatBen,helookedbackatme,andthenwebothlookedatEvan.“Whenyousay‘destroyed’...?”Istarted.“Blownup,”Evansaid.“It’sthelaststepbeforethelaunchofthe5thWave.”Benwasslowlyshakinghisheadathim,horrified,disgusted,enraged.“Why?”“Tomakeiteasiertofinishthecleansing.Andtowipeoutanythinghumanthatremains.”“Butwhynow?”Benasked.“TheSilencerswillbebackonboardtheship—it’ssafe.Forus,Imean.Safeforus.”Ilookedaway.Iwasgoingtobesick.Ishouldknowbetterbynow.JustwhenIthoughtitcouldn’t

getanyworse,itgetsworse.

8ZOMBIE

IMOTIONDUMBOoutoftheroom.LetSullivansaywhatshewants—he’llalwaysbeNuggettome.ThekidstartstofollowmeandDumbointothehallandIorderhimtofallback.IclosethedoorandturntoDumbo.“Grabyourgear.We’removingout.”

Dumbo’seyesgowide.“When?”“Rightnow.”Heswallowshardandglancesdownthehallwaytowardthefamilyroom.“Justmeandyou,

Sarge?”Iknowwhathe’sworriedabout.“I’mgood,Bo.”TouchingthespotwhereRingerplacedthe

bullet.“Not100percent,morelike86.5,butgoodenough.”PainknifesintomysidewhenIreacheduptopullmyrucksackfromtheclosetshelf.Okay,take

offapointandahalf,makeit85,stillcloserto100thantozero.Anyway,who’s100percentthislateinthegame?Eventhegoodevilalienbrokehisankle.

Irummagethroughthesack,thoughthere’snotahellofalottorummagethrough.I’llneedtograbsomefreshwaterandrationsfromthekitchen,andaknifemightcomeinhandy.Idigintotheouterpocket.Empty.Whatthehell?IknowIputitthere.Whathappenedtoit?

I’mkneelingonthebedroomfloor,tearingthroughmystuffforthethirdtime,whenDumbocomesin.

“Sarge?”“Itwashere.Itwasrighthere.”Ilookupathimandsomethingaboutmyexpressionmakeshim

flinch.“Somebodymusthavetakenit.JesusChrist,whothehellwouldhavetakenit,Dumbo?”“Takenwhat?”Irockbackontomyheelsandpatmypockets.Shit.Thereitis,rightwhereIputit.Mysister ’s

necklace,theonethattoreoffinmyhandonthenightIlefthertodie.“Okay,we’regood.”Ipushmyselftomyfeet,grabtherucksackfromthefloorandtheriflefrom

thebed.Dumbo’swatchingmecarefully,butIhardlynotice.Thekid’sbeenmother-henningmeformonthsnow.

“Ithoughtwewereleavingtomorrownight,”hesays.“Iftheyaren’tbetweenhereandthehotel,orwherethehotelusedtobe,we’llhavetocutthrough

Urbana—twice,”Itellhim.“AndIdon’twanttobeanywherenearUrbanawhenthebastardsgoallDubuqueonit.”

“Dubuque?”Thecolordrainsoutofhisface.OhGod,Dubuqueagain!

Idroptherucksackoveroneshoulderandtherifleovertheother.“BuzzLightyearjusttoldusthey’reblowingupthecities.”

Thattakesasecondtosinkin.“Whichcities?”“Allofthem.”Hisjawdrops.Hetrailsmeintothehallway,thenaroundthecornerandintothekitchen.Bottled

water,someunopenedpackagesofbeefjerky,crackers,ahandfulofproteinbars.Idividethesuppliesbetweenus.GottobequickbeforeNugget’sradargoesoffandhebarrelsoutofthatroomtoVelcrohimselfontomyleg.

“Allofthem?”Dumboasks.Hefrowns.“ButRingersaidtheyweren’tgoingtoblowupthecities.”“Well,shewaswrong.OrWalker ’slying.SomebullshitabouthavingtowaituntiltheSilencers

wereextracted.YouknowwhatI’vedecided,Private?I’mnotwastinganymoretimeworryingaboutallthethingsIdon’tknow.”

Heshakeshishead.Hestillcan’twraphismindaroundit.“EverycityonEarth?”“Downtothelastshittyone-traffic-lighttown.”“How?”“Themothership.Infourdays,onebigswingaroundtheplanet,droppingthebombsasshegoes.

UnlessWalkercanblowuptheshipbeforeithappens,andIdon’tputalotoffaithinthat.”“Why?”“BecauseIdon’tputalotoffaithinWalker.”“Istilldon’tgetit,Zombie.Why’dtheywaittillnowtostartdroppingbombs?”Everypartofhimisshaking,includinghisvoice.He’slosingit.Iputmyhandsonhisshoulders

andforcehimtolookatme.“Itoldyou.They’repullingouttheSilencers.Sendingdownpodsforeverylastinfestedoneofthem,exceptforhandlerslikeVosch.Oncethey’vebeenevac’edandthecitiesaregone,there’snoplaceforsurvivorstohide,makingitaturkeyshootforthepoorbastardstheybrainwashedintofinishingthejob:the5thWave.Getit?”

Hewagshisheadfromsidetoside.“Itdon’tmatter.Igowhereyougo,Sarge.”Ashadowmovesbehindhim.AdamnedNugget-shapedshadow.Itooktoolong.“Zombie?”“Okay.”Isigh.“Dumbo,giveusasecond.”Heleavesthekitchenwithasingle,mutteredword:Dubuque!Thenthere’sjustmeandNugget.I

didn’twantthis,butyoucan’trunfromanything,notreally.It’sallacircle;Ringertriedtotellmethat.Nomatterhowfarorfastyourun,soonerorlateryou’rebackwhereyoustarted.IgotmadwhenSullivanthrewmysisterupinmyface,butwebothknewshewasright.Sissywasdead;Sissywouldneverdie.I’mforeverreachingforher.She’sforeverfallingaway,thesilverchainbreakingoffinmyhand.

“WherearePrivatesTeacupandRinger?”Iaskhim.Hisfreshlyscrubbedfaceislifteduptomine.Hepoochesouthislowerlip.“Idon’tknow.”“NeitherdoI.SomeandDumboaregonnafindout.”“I’mcomingwithyou.”“That’sanegative,Private.Ineedyoutowatchyoursister.”“Shedoesn’tneedme.Shehashim.”Idon’ttrytoarguewiththat.He’stoosharpformetowin.“Well,I’mputtingyouinchargeof

Megan.”“Yousaidweweren’tsplittingup.Yousaidnomatterwhat.”

Itakeakneeinfrontofhim.Hiseyesshinewithtears,butheisn’tcrying.He’satoughlittlesonofabitch,wayolderthanhisyears.

“I’llonlybegoneacoupleofdays.”Déjàvu:practicallythesamethingRingersaidbeforesheleft.

“Promise?”AndthatwaspracticallywhatIsaidbacktoher.Ringerdidn’tpromise;sheknewbetter.Me,I’m

notthatsmart.“HaveIbrokenoneyet?”Itakehishand,peelbackhisfingers,andpressSissy’slocketintohispalm.“Holdontothis,”Iorderhim.

“Whatisit?”Staringatthemetalglitteringinhishand.“Partofthechain.”“Whatchain?”“Thechainthatholdsitalltogether.”Heshakeshishead,mystified.Heisn’ttheonlyone.Ihavenocluewhatjustcameoutofmymouth,whatitmeans,orwhyIsaid

it.Thatcheappieceofcostumejewelry—IthoughtIkeptitoutofguiltandshame,toremindmyselfofmyfailure,ofallthethingsthathadbeenrippedaway,butmaybethere’sanotherreason,areasonIcan’tputintowordsbecauseIdon’thavethewordsforit.Maybetherearen’tany.

9HETRAILSAFTERmeintothefamilyroom.

“Ben,youhaven’tthoughtthisthrough,”Walkersays.He’swhereIlefthim,standingbythefrontdoor.

Iignorehim.“They’reeitheratthecavernsorthey’renot,”ItellSullivan,who’shuggingherselfbesidethefireplace.“Iftheyare,we’llbringthemback.Iftheyaren’t,wewon’t.”

“We’vebeenholeduphereforsixweeks,”Walkerpointsout.“Underanyothercircumstance,we’dbedead.Theonlyreasonwearen’tdeadisbecauseweneutralizedtheagentwhopatrolledthissector.”

“Grace,”Cassietranslatesforme.“Togettothecaverns,you’llhavetocrossthroughthree—”“Two,”Walkercorrectsher.Sherollshereyes.Whatever.“TwoterritoriespatrolledbySilencersjustlikehim.”Sheglancesat

Walker.“Ornotjustlikehim.NotgoodSilencers.ReallybadSilencerswhoarereallygoodatsilencing.”

“Youmightgetluckyandslippastone,”Walkersays.“Nottwo.”“Butifyouwait,therewon’tbeanySilencerstoslippast.”Cassieisbesidemenow,touchingmy

arm,pleading.“Allofthemwillbebackonthemothership.ThenEvandoeshisthingandthenyoucan...”Hervoicetrailsoff.She’srunoutofthebreathnecessarytoblowsmokeupmyass.

I’mnotlookingather.I’mlookingatWalker.Iknowwhathe’sgoingtosaynext.IknowbecauseI’dsaythesamething:Ifthere’snowayDumboandIcanmakeittothecaverns,there’snowayRingerandTeacupcould,either.“Youdon’tknowRinger,”Itellhim.“Ifanybodycouldhavemadeit,shecould.”

Walkernods.Buthe’sagreeingwiththefirststatement,notthesecond.“Afterourawakening,wewereenhancedwithatechnologythatmakesusnearlyindestructible.Weturnedourselvesintokillingmachines,Ben.”Andthenhetakesadeepbreathandfinallyspitsitout,theobtusebastard.“There’snowaytheycouldhavesurvivedthislong,notagainstus.Yourfriendsaredead.”

Ileftanyway.Fuckit.Fuckhim.Fuckeverything.I’vesataroundlongenoughwaitingfortheworldtoend.

Ringerhasn’tkeptherpromise,soI’mkeepingitforher.

10RINGER

SENTRIESAREWAITINGformeatthegates.I’mescortedimmediatelytothewatchtoweroverlookingthelandingfield,anothercirclecompleted,whereVoschwaitsforme—asifhehasn’tmovedfromthespotinthelastfortydays.

“Zombieisalive,”Isaid.IlookeddownandsawIwasstandingonthebloodstainthatmarkedwhereRazorfell.Afewfeetaway,besidetheconsole,that’swhereRazor ’sbulletcutTeacupdown.Teacup.

Voschshrugged.“Unknown.”“Okay,maybenotZombie,butsomeonewhoknowsmeisstillalive.”Hedidn’tanswer.It’s

probablySullivan,Ithought.Thatwouldbejustmyluck.“YouknowIcan’tgetclosetoWalkerwithoutsomeonehetruststovouchforme.”

Hefoldedhislong,powerfularmsacrosshischestandpeereddownhisnoseatme,brightbirdlikeeyesglittering.“Youneveransweredmyquestion,”hesaid.“AmIhuman?”

Ididn’thesitate.“Yes.”Hesmiled.“Anddoyoustillbelievethatmeansthereisnohope?”Hedidn’twaitforananswer.“I

amthehopeoftheworld.Thefateofhumankindrestsuponme.”“Whataterribleburdenthatmustbe,”Isaid.“Youarebeingfacetious.”“Theyneededpeoplelikeyou.Organizersandmanagerswhoknewwhytheycameandwhatthey

wanted.”Hewasnodding.Hisfaceglowed.Hewaspleasedwithme—andpleasedwithhimselffor

choosingme.“Theyhadnochoice,Marika.Whichmeans,ofcourse,thatwehadnochoice.Undereverylikelyscenario,weweredoomedtodestroyourselvesandourhome.Theonlysolutionwasradicalintervention.Destroythehumanvillageinordertosaveit.”

“Anditwasn’tenoughtokillsevenbillionofus,”Isaid.“Ofcoursenot.Otherwise,theywouldhavethrownthebigrock.No,thebestsolutionisthechild

inthewheat.”Mystomachrolledatthememory.Thetoddlerburstingthroughthedeadgrain.Thelittlebandof

survivorstakinghimin.Thelastremnantoftrustblownapartinaflashofhellishgreenlight.OnthedayImethim,Igotthespeech.Everyrecruitdid.ThelastbattleofEarthwillnothappen

onanyplainordesertormountaintop...Itouchedmychest.“Thisisthebattlefield.”“Yes.Otherwisethecyclewouldmerelyrepeatitself.”“Andthat’swhyWalker ’simportant.”

“Theprogramembeddedinhimhasfundamentallyfailed.Wemustunderstandwhy,forreasonsthatshouldbeobvioustoyou.Andthereisonlyonewaytoaccomplishthat.”

Hepressedabuttonontheconsolenexttohim.Behindme,adooropenedandamiddle-agedwomanwearinglieutenant’sbarsonhercollarsteppedintotheroom.Shewassmiling.Herteethwereperfectlyevenandverylarge.Hereyesweregray.Herhairwassandyblondandpulledbackintoatightbun.Iimmediatelydislikedher.Itwasavisceralresponse.

“Lieutenant,escortPrivateRingertotheinfirmaryforherpredeploymentcheckup.IwillseeyouinBriefingRoomBravoatohfourhundred.”

Heturnedaway.Hewasdonewithme—fornow.Intheelevator,thesandy-hairedwomanasked,“Howareyoufeeling?”“Fuckoff.”HersmilepersistedasifI’danswered,Fine,andyou?“Myname’sLieutenantPierce.Butcallme

Constance.”Thebelldinged.Thedoorsslidopen.Sheslammedherfistintomyneck.Myvisionwentblack;

mykneesbuckled.“That’sforClaire,”shesaid.“Yourememberher.”Icameup,drivingtheheelofmyhandintoherchin.Thebackofherheadhitthewallwitha

satisfyingcrack.ThenIpunchedherinthegutwithalltheforcemyenhancedmusclescouldmuster.Shecollapsedatmyfeet.

“That’sforthesevenbillion.Yourememberthem.”

11INTHEINFIRMARYIwasgivenathoroughphysical.Diagnosticswererunonthe12thSystemtoensureitwasfullyoperational.Thenanorderlybroughtinatraygroaningwithfood.Itoreintoit.Ihadn’thadadecentmealinoveramonth.Whentheplatewasempty,theorderlycamebackcarryinganother.Iknockedthatoff,too.

Theybroughtmyolduniform.Istripped.IwashedupthebestIcouldinthesink.Icouldsmellthestenchoffortyunwasheddayshoveringaroundme,andforsomereasonIfeltembarrassed.Therewasnotoothbrush,soIrubbedmyfingerovermyteeth.Iwonderedifthe12thSystemprotectedmyenamel.Ipulledontheclothes,lacedthebootstight.Ifeltbetter.MoreliketheoldRinger,theblissfullyignorant,naïve,unenhancedRingerwholeftZombiethatnightwiththeunspokenpromise:Iwillcomeback.IfIcan,Iwill.

Thedoorswungopen.Constance.She’dchangedoutofherlieutenant’suniformandintoapairofmomjeansandatatteredhoodie.

“Ifeellikewestartedoffonthewrongfoot,”shesaid.“Fuckoff.”“We’repartnersnow,”shesaidsweetly.“Buddies.Weshouldgetalong.”Ifollowedherdownthreeflightsofstairsintotheundergroundbunker,asnarlofgray-walled

passagewayspockedwithunmarkeddoors,underfluorescentlightsthatbledaconstant,sterileglow,remindingmeofthehourswithRazorwhilemybodyfoughtitslosingbattleagainstthe12thSystem.Playingchaseballandcreatingsecretcodesandplottingthephonyescapethatwouldleadmebackbeneaththisghastlylight,anothercircleboundbyuncertaintyandfear.

Constancewasahalfstepinfrontofme.Ourfootfallsechoedintheemptyspace.Icouldhearherbreathe.Itwouldbesoeasytokillyourightnow,Ithoughtidly,thenpushedthethoughtaway.Thattimewouldcome,Ihoped,butitwasn’tnow.

Shepushedopenadooridenticaltothefiftyorsootherunmarkeddoorswe’dpassed,andIfollowedherintotheconferenceroom.Aprojectionscreenagainstonewall.Alongtableinfrontofthescreen.Asmallmetalboxonthecenterofthetable.

Voschwassittingbehindthetable.Hestoodupaswecamein.Thelightsdimmedandthescreenlitupwithanaerialshotlookingstraightdownatatwo-laneroadthatcutthroughempty,rollingfields.Inthecenteroftheframe,therectangularrooftopofahouse.Asolitary,shimmeringdotontheleftedgeoftherectangle—theheatsignatureofsomeoneonthewatch.Aclusterofglowingsmudgesinsidethehouse.Icountedthemfirst,thengavethemnames:Dumbo,Poundcake,Sullivan,Nugget,Walker,andonemoremakesZombie.Hello,Zombie.“Fromareconnaissanceflightsixweeksago,”Voschsaid.“Approximatelyfifteenmilessoutheast

ofUrbana.”Thevideofeedwentblackforaninstant,thenpoppedbackon:samethinblackribbonof

theroad,samedarkrectangleofthehouse,butfewerglowingsmudgesinsideit.Twoweremissing.“Thisisfromlastnight.”Thecamerazoomedout.Woods,fields,moreclustersofblackrectangles,darkblotchesagainst

graylandscape,theworldemptied,abandoned,lifeless.Thethinblackribbonofroadslidoutoftheshot.ThenIsawthem:twoglowingdotsfartothenorthwest.Someonewasonthemove.

“Wherearetheygoing?”Iasked,butIwasprettysureIknewtheansweralready.Voschshrugged.“Impossibletoknowforcertain,butthemostlikelydestinationishere.”The

imagefroze.Hepointedtoaspotatthetopofthescreenandgavemeaknowinglook.Iclosedmyeyes.IsawZombiewearingthatuglyyellowhoodie,leaningagainstthecounterinthe

lobbyoftheoldhotel,thatstupidbrochureclutchedinhishands,andmesaying,I’llscopeitoutandbebackinacoupleofdays.

“They’regoingtothecaverns,”Isaid.“Tolookforme.”“Yes,Ithinkso,”Voschagreed.“Andthat’sexactlywhothey’llfind.”Thelightscameup.“You’ll

bedroppedintonight,wellaheadoftheirarrival.LieutenantPierceistaskedwithtargetacquisition.Youronlyresponsibilityisgettingherwithinstrikingdistance.Atthecompletionofthemission,LieutenantPierceandWalkerwillbeextractedandreturnedtobase.”

“Thenwhat?”Iasked.Heblinkedslowly.Heexpectedmetoknow.“Andthenyouandyourcompanionsarefreetogo.”“Gowhere?”Asmallsmile.“Whereverthewindmighttakeyou.ButIsuggestyoukeeptoopencountry.Urban

areaswon’tbesafe.”HenoddedtoConstance,whobrushedpastmeonherwaytothedoor.“Takeit,cupcake.You’ll

wantit.”Iwatchedherleave.Takeit?Takewhat?“Marika.”Voschcrookedhisfingeratme.Comehere.Ididn’tmove.“Whyareyousendingherwithme?”ThenIansweredmyownquestion:“You’re

notlettingusgo.OnceyouhaveWalker,you’regoingtokillus.”Hiseyebrowrosetowardhiscrewcut.“WhywouldIkillyou?Theworldwouldbeamuchless

interestingplacewithoutyouinit.”Helookedawayquickly,bitinghislowerlip,asifhe’dsaidtoomuch.

Hegesturedtowardtheboxsittingonthetable.“Wewillnotseeeachotheragain,”hesaidgruffly.“Ithoughtthiswasappropriate.”

“What?”“Apartinggift.”“Idon’twantanythingfromyou.”Notmyfirstthought.MyfirstthoughtwasStickitupyourass.Heslidtheboxtowardme.Hewassmiling.Iliftedthelid.Iwasn’tsurewhattoexpect.Maybeatravel-sizedchessset—areminderofallthe

goodtimeswehadtogether.Insidethebox,nestledinafoamcushion,wasagreencapsuleencasedinclearplastic.

“Theworldisaclock,”hesaidsoftly.“Andthetimeiscomingwhenthechoicebetweenlifeanddeathwillnotbeadifficultone,Marika.”

“Whatisit?”“Thechildinthewheatcarriedamodifiedversionofthisinsidehisthroat,exceptthismodelissix

timesaspowerful—everythingwithinafive-mileradiusisinstantaneouslyvaporized.Placethecapsuleinyourmouth,bitedowntobreaktheseal,andallyouhavetodoisbreathe.”

Ishookmyhead.“Idon’twantit.”Henodded.Hiseyessparkled.He’dexpectedmetorefuse.“Infourdays,ourbenefactorswill

releasebombsfromthemothershipthatwilldestroyeveryremainingcityonEarth.Doyouunderstand,Marika?Thehumanfootprintisabouttobewipedclean.Whatwebuiltovertenmillenniawillbegoneinaday.Thenthesoldiersofthe5thWavewillbeunleasheduponthesurvivors,andthewarwillbegin.Thelastwar,Marika.Theendlesswar.Thewarthatwillgoonandonuntilthefinalbulletisspent,andthenitwillbefoughtwithsticksandrocks.”

Mypuzzledexpressionmusthavetriedhispatience;hisvoicewenthard.“Whatisthelessonofthechildinthewheat?”

“Nooutsidercanbetrusted,”Ianswered,staringatthegreencapsuleinitsbedoffoam.“Notevenachild.”

“Andwhathappenswhennoonecanbetrusted?Whatbecomesofuswheneverystrangercouldbean‘other ’?”

“Withouttrustthere’snocooperation.Andwithoutcooperationthere’snoprogress.Historystops.”

“Yes!”Hebeamedwithpride.“Iknewyouwouldunderstand.Theanswertothehumanproblemisthedeathofwhatmakesushuman.”

Hisarmcameup,hishandtowardme,asifhewasgoingtotouchme,andthenhestoppedhimself.ForthefirsttimesinceImethim,heseemedtroubledbysomething.IfIhadn’tknownbetter,I’dhaveguessedhewasafraid.

Butthatwouldberidiculous.Hedroppedhishandtohissideandturnedaway.

12THESKINOFTHEC-160glistenedinthelightofthesettingsun.Itwasfreezingontheairstrip,butthesunlightflirtedonmycheeks.Fourdaysuntilthespringequinox.Fourdaysuntilthemothershipdropsherpayload.Fourdaysuntiltheend.

Besideme,Constancewasrunningthroughonelastcheckofhergearwhilethegroundcrewranthroughonelastcheckoftheplane’s.Ihadmysidearmandrifleandknife,theclothesonmyback,andthesmallgreenpillinmypocket.

I’dacceptedhisfinalgift.Iunderstoodwhyhewantedmetohaveit.AndIknewwhattheoffermeant:He’sgoingtokeephis

promise.OnceConstancesnatchesWalker,we’refree.Whatriskdidwepose,really?There’snowheretohide.Monthsmaypassbeforewefacethe

ultimatechoicebetweendeathontheirtermsordeathonours.Andwhenwe’recorneredorcaptured,outofalloptionsexceptthosetwo,Iwillhavehisgift.Iwillhavethatchoice.

IlookeddownatConstancefussingwithherrucksack.Thebackofherexposedneckglowedgoldeninthefailinglight.Iimaginedtakingmyknifeandplungingittothehiltintothesoftskin.Hatewasnottheanswer;Iknewthat.Shewasasmuchavictimasme,asthesevenbilliondead,asthechildrunningthroughtheseaofwheat.Infact,sheandWalkerandthethousandsinfectedwiththeSilencerprogramwerethesaddest,mostpitifulvictimsofall.

AtleastwhenIdie,I’lldoitwithmyeyeswide-open.I’lldieknowingthetruth.Shelookedupatme.Iwasn’tsure,butIthoughtshewaswaitingformetotellhertofuckoff

again.Ididn’t.“Doyouknowhim?”Iasked.“EvanWalker.Youmustallknoweachother,right?You

spenttenmillenniatogetherupthere,”—withatiltofmyheadtowardthegreensmudgeinthesky.“Didyouhaveanyideahe’dgorogue?”

Constancebaredherbigteethanddidn’tanswer.“Okay,that’sbullshit,”Isaid.“Everythingyouthinkisthetruthisbullshit.Whoyouthinkyouare,

yourmemories,allofit.Beforeyouwereborn,theyembeddedaprograminyourbrainthatbootedupwhenyouhitpuberty.Probablyachemicalreactionkick-startedbythehormones.”

Shenodded,stillallteeth.“I’msurethat’sacomfortingthought.”“You’vebeeninfectedwithaviralprogramthatliterallyrewiredyourbrainto‘remember ’things

thatdidn’thappen.Youaren’tanalienconsciousnessheretowipeouthumanityandcolonizetheEarth.You’rehuman.Likeme.LikeVosch.Likeeveryoneelse.”

Shesaid,“I’mnotanythinglikeyou.”“Youprobablybelievethatatsomepointyou’llreturntothemothershipandletthe5thWave

finishthehumangenocide,butyouwon’t,becausetheyaren’tgoingtodoit.You’llendupfightingtheveryarmyyou’vecreateduntiltherearenobulletsleftandhistorystops.Trustleadsto

cooperationleadstoprogress,andthere’llbenomoreprogress.NotanewStoneAge,aperpetualStoneAge.”

Shoulderingherrucksack,Constancerosefromthetarmac.“That’safascinatingtheory.Ilikeit.”Isighed.Therewasnobreakingthrough.Ididn’tblameher,though.Ifshetoldme,Yourfather

wasn’tanartistandadrunk;hewasateetotalingBaptistminister,Iwouldn’tbelieveher.Cogitoergosum.Morethanthesumofourexperiences,ourmemoriesaretheultimateproofofreality.

Theplane’senginesroaredtolife.Iflinchedatthesound.Ispentfortydaysinthewildernesswithoutanyremindersofthemechanizedworld.Thesmelloftheexhaustrushingovermeandtheairvibratingagainstmyskinbroughtontheacheofnostalgiainmyheart,becausethis,too,willend.Thefinalbattlehadn’tstarted,butthewarwasalreadyover.

Asifwithawearysigh,thesundippedbeneaththehorizon.Thegreeneyebrightenedagainstthedarkeningsky.ConstanceandIjoggeduptheplatformintotheplaneandstrappedinsidebyside.

Thedoorlockedintoplacewithaloudhiss.Asecondlaterweweretaxiingtowardtherunway.IlookedoveratConstance:hergrinfrozeninplaceandherdarkeyesexpressionlessasashark’s.Myhandshotoutandgrabbedherforearm,andIfeltthehateboilingthroughthefabricofherheavyparka.Thehateandrageanddisgustcascadedfromherintome,andIknew:RegardlessofherordersandallofVosch’spromises,oncesheacquiredthetargetandourusefulnesswasover,shewouldkillmeandZombieandeveryoneelse.Therewastoomuchriskinlettinguslive.

WhichmeantIhadtokillher.Theplanelurchedforward.Mystomachprotested;awaveofnausearolledoverme.Weird.I’d

neverhadmotionsicknessbefore.Ileanedmybackagainstthebulkheadandclosedmyeyes.Thehub,answeringmydesire,shut

downmyhearingandtactilesenses.Inthegiftofthenumbsilencethatenfoldedme,Iworkedthroughtheoptions.

Constancehadtodie,butkillingConstancecompoundedtheEvanproblem.Voschmightdispatchasecondoperative,buthe’llhavelostalltacticaladvantage.IfIkillConstance,hemightdecidetotakeusalloutwithaHellfiremissile.

Unlesshedidn’tneedtokillWalker.UnlessWalkerwasalreadydead.Therewasasourtasteinmymouth.Iswallowed,fightingtheurgetothrowup.VoschhadtorunWalkerthroughWonderland.ItwastheonlywaytoknowwhyEvanrebelled

againsthisprogramming—iftheflawlayinWalkerorintheprogramorinsometoxiccombinationofthetwo.Afundamentalflawintheprogramwouldcreateanunsustainableparadigm.

ButifWalkerwasdead,Voschcouldn’tidentifytheflawinthesystem,andthewholeoperationcouldcollapse:Youcan’thaveawar,especiallyoftheendlessvariety,ifeveryone’sonthesameside.Whateverwent“wrong”inWalkercouldgowrongintheotherSilencers.HehadtoknowwhyEvan’sprogrammingfailed.Ican’tletithappen.Ican’triskgivingVoschwhathewants.Denyinghimwhathewantedmightbetheonlyhopewehadleft.Andtherewasonlyonewaytodo

that.EvanWalkerhadtodie.

13SAM

ZOMBIEONTHEROAD,shrinking.ZombieandDumbowalkingdowntheemptyroadawashinstarlight,fading.Sampullsthesilverchainfromhispocketandholdsittightlyinhishand.Promise?HaveIbrokenoneyet?AndthedarkclosingaroundZombielikeamonster ’smouthuntilthereisnoZombie,onlythe

monster,onlythedark.Hepresseshisotherhandagainstthecoldglass.OnthedaythebustookhimtoCampHaven,he

watchedCassieonthebrownroad,holdingBear,shrinkingawaytonothing,swallowedbythedustlikeZombiewasswallowedbythedark.

Behindhim,CassiesaystoEvanWalkerinherangryvoice,“Whydidn’tyoustophim?”“Itried,”EvanWalkeranswers.“Notveryhard.”“Shortofbreakinghislegs,Idon’tknowwhatIcouldhavedone.”WhenSamtakeshishandaway,theglassholdsthememoryofitlikethebuswindowoncedid,a

mistyimprintofwherehishandhadbeen.“AfteryoulostSam,couldanyonehavestoppedyoufromfindinghim?”EvanWalkerasks.Then

hegoesoutside.Samcanseehissister ’sfacereflectedintheglass.Likeeverythingelsesincetheycame,Cassie’s

changed.She’snotthesameCassieshrinkingonthedustyroad.Hernoseiskindofcrooked,likethenoseofsomeonepressingherfaceagainstawindowpane.

“Sam,”shesays.“It’slate.Whatdoyousay—wannasleepinmyroomtonight?”Heshakeshishead.“IhavetowatchMegan.Zombie’sorders.”Shestartstosaysomething.Thenshestops.Thenshesays,“Okay.I’llbethereinaminutetosay

yourprayerswithyou.”“I’mnotgoingtopray.”“Sam,youhavetopray.”“IprayedforMommyandshedied.IprayedforDaddyandhedied,too.Whenyouprayfor

people,theydie.”“Thatisn’twhytheydied,Sam.”Shereachesforhim.Hepullsaway.“I’mnotgoingtoprayforanybodyanymore,”hetellsher.Inthebedroom,Megansitsonthebed,holdingBear.

“Zombieleft,”Samtellsher.“Where’dhego?”shewhispers.Awhisperisasloudashervoicegoes.CassieandEvanWalker

hurtsomethinginherthroatwhentheypulledoutthepill-bomb.“He’sgoingonrecontofindRingerandTeacup.”Meganshakesherhead.Shedoesn’tknowwhoRingerandTeacupare.HerhandsqueezesBear ’s

headandBear ’smouthpuckerslikehewantsakiss.“Becareful,”Samsays.“Don’thurthishead.”Thewindowinthisbedroomisboardedup.Youcan’tseeoutside.Atnight,afteryouturnoffthe

lamp,thedarkissoheavy,youcanfeelitpressingagainstyourskinallover.DanglingfromtheceilingareloosewiresandacoupleofballsthatZombiesaidweresupposedtobeJupiterandNeptune.ThisistheroomwhereEvanWalkertriedtokilltheevilGraceladywithwirefromthemobile.There’rebloodstainsonthecarpetandsplattersofbloodonthewalls.It’slikehismother ’sbedroomaftershegottheRedDeathandhernosewouldn’tstopbleeding.Shebledfromhernoseandhermouth,andneartheend,bloodcameoutofhereyesandevenherears.Samremembersherblood;hecan’trememberherface.

“IthoughtwewereallstayinghereuntilEvanblewuptheship,”Meganwhispers,squeezingBear.Samopenstheclosetdoor.Besidesclothesandshoesthatsmellfaintlyoftheplague,thereare

boardgamesandactionfiguresandabigHotWheelscollection.OnedayCassiecameintotheroomandsawhimonthefloorplayingwiththedeadkids’stuff.Shewatchedhimsittingonthebigbloodstaininthemiddleofthefloor.He’dmadeacamp,andtherewashisoldsquad,Squad53,andtheyhadaJeepandaplaneandtheywereonamissiontoinfiltrateaninfestedstronghold.Only,theinfestedssawthemcomingandtheirdronesdroppedbombsandeverybodywashurtexceptSam,andZombietoldhim,It’suptoyounow,Private.You’retheonlyonewhocansaveus.Hissisterwatchedhimplayforafewminutesandthenshestartedtocryfornoreason,andthatmadehimmad.Hedidn’tknowshewaswatching.Hedidn’tunderstandwhyshewascrying.Hefeltembarrassed.Hewasasoldiernow,notababywhoplayedwithtoys.Hestoppedplayingafterthat.

Hehesitatesbeforesteppingintothecloset.Meganiswatchinghimfromthebed.Shedoesn’tknowabouthissecret.Nobodydoes.ButZombiegavehimanorderandhehastofollowit.Zombieishiscommandingofficer.

“Ifheblowsuptheship,howdoeshekeepfromblowinghimselfup,too?”sheasks.Samlooksoverhisshoulderatherbeforesteppingintothecloset.“Ihopehedoes,”hesays.Zombiesaidhedidn’ttrustEvanWalker.Hewasaninfestedanditdidn’tmatterthathehadbeen

helpingthem.Theenemywastheenemywastheenemy,andyoucan’ttrusttraitors,Zombiesaid.CassiesaidEvanWalkerwasn’therboyfriend,butSamsawthewayshelookedathimandheardthewayshetalkedtohim,andhedidn’tbelieveherwhenshesaidtheycouldtrusthimorthathewouldmakeeverythingokay.HehadtrustedthesoldiersatCampHaven,too,andtheyturnedouttobetheenemy.

Insidethecloset,hekneelsbesidetheheapofclothespiledagainstonewall.Nobodyknowswhathehidthere,notevenZombie.

Whentheyfirstgottothehouse,theycheckedouteveryroomuntilonlythebasementwasleft,andZombiewouldn’tlethimgodownthere.ZombiewentdownwithDumboandEvanWalker,andwhentheycameupagain,theywerecarryingweapons.Riflesandpistolsandexplosivesandaverybigtube-shapedgunwithashouldermountthatZombiecalledanFIMStinger.Youcouldblowuphelicoptersandplaneswithit,Zombieexplained,blow’emrightoutofthesky.ThenhetoldSamthe

basementwasunauthorized;Samwasn’tallowedtogodownthereortouchanyoftheweapons.EventhoughhewasasoldierjustlikeDumboandjustlikeZombie.Itwasn’tfair.

Samreachesbeneaththemoundofclothesandpullsoutthegun.AnM9Beretta.Socool.“Whatareyoudoinginthere?”Meganasks,pluckingatBear ’sear.Sheshouldn’tdothat.Hetold

hernottoathousandtimes.Dumbo’shadtosewupBear ’seartwicesincetheycametothehouse.HeletMegankeepBeareventhoughBearhasalwaysbeenhisforaslongashecanremember,eventhoughshesquisheshisheadandplucksathisearsandcallshimadifferentname.Theygotinafightaboutit.

“HisnameisBear,”Samtoldherthatday.“That’snotaname.Abeariswhatheis.InamedhimCaptain.”“Youcan’tdothat.”Sheshrugged.“Idid.”“He’smine.”“Thentakehimback,”shesaid.“Idon’tcare.”Heshookhishead.Hedidn’twantBearback.Hewasn’tababyanymore.Hewasasoldier.Allhe

wantedwasforhertocallBearbyhisrightname.“YouusedtobeSamandnowyouhaveadifferentname,”Megansaid.“That’snotthesame.Bear ’snotpartofthesquad.”Shedidn’tstop.Onceshefoundouthehatedthename,shecalledBearCaptainallthetime,justto

bughim.KeepinghisbacktoMegan,hejamsthegunintohiswaistbandandpullsthebigredsweatshirt

overhisstomachtohidethebulge.“Sam?Captainwantstoknowwhatyou’redoinginthere.”HeaskedZombiethatnightifhecouldhaveoneoftheguns.Thereweredozensofthem,a

freakin’armorydownthere,Zombiesaid,buthealsosaidno.Cassiewasstandingthere,soSamwaiteduntilshewasoutoftheroomandaskedZombieagainifhecouldhaveagun.Itwasn’trightthateverybodycarriedoneexcepthimandMegan,butshedidn’tcount.Shewasacivilian.Shehadn’tbeentrainedlikehehad.

Theyhadtakenherfromthebusandhiddenheruntilitwastimetoplantthepill-bombinherthroat.Shewasn’talone,shesaid.Therewerealotofkidstheypulledfromthebuses.Hundredsofchildren,andEvanWalkersaideachofthemwasusedtotricksurvivors.Thechildrenwereairliftedordriventoplaceswheretheenemyknewpeoplewerehiding.Thepeoplebroughtinthechildrentosavethem.Thenthepeopledied.

AndCassiesaidtheyhadtotrustEvanWalker!Thegununderhisshirtiscoldagainsthisbareskin.It’sanicefeeling,betterthanahug.Heisn’t

afraidofthegun.Heisn’tafraidofanything.HisordersaretowatchMegan,butZombieleftnobodyinchargeofwatchingEvanWalker.SoSamwilldothat,too.

AtCampHaven,thesoldiersinchargesaidtheywouldprotecthim.Theytoldhimhewasperfectlysafe.Theytoldhimeverythingwasgoingtobeallright.Andtheylied.Theyliedabouteverythingbecauseeverybodyisaliar.Theymakepromisestheydon’tkeep.Evenhismommyanddaddylied.Whenthemothershipcame,theysaidtheywouldneverleavehim,andtheydid.Theypromisedeverythingwouldbeallright,anditwasn’t.

HecrawlsintothebedoppositeMegan’sandstaresatthebarewiresandthetwodustymetalballshangingfromtheceiling.Meganiswatchinghim,pullingBeartightagainstherchest,andhermouthhangsopenalittle,liketheairisrunningout.

Heturnshisheadtowardthewall.Hedoesn’twantMegantoseehimcry.Heisn’tababy.He’sasoldier.There’snowayyoucantellwho’shumananymore.EvanWalkerlookedhumanbuthewasn’t,not

inside,notwhereitmatters.EvenpeoplelikeMegan,whoarehuman—maybe—couldn’tbetrusted,becauseyoucan’tknowwhattheenemyhasdonetothem.Zombie,Cassie,Dumbo...youcan’treallytrustthem,either.TheycouldbejustlikeEvanWalker.

Inthepressingdarkbeneaththebrokenmobile,Sam’sheartspeedsup.Maybethey’realltrickinghim.EvenZombie.EvenCassie.

Hisbreathcatchesinhisthroat.It’shardtobreathe.Youhavetopray,Cassiesaid.Heusedtoprayeverynight,allthetime,andtheonlyanswerGodevergavewasno.LetMommylive,God.No.LetDaddycomeback,God.No.Youcan’ttrustGod,either.EvenGodisaliar.Heputrainbowsintheskyasapromisehe’dneverkilleveryoneagain,andthenhelettheOtherscomeanddoit.Allthepeoplewhodiedmusthaveprayed,too,andGodsaid,No,no,no,sevenbilliontimes,sevenbillionnos,Godsaidno,no,no.

Thecoolmetalofthegunagainsthisbareskin.Thecoldlikeahandagainsthisforehead,pressing.Meganbreathingthroughhermouth,remindinghimofbombstriggeredbyhumanbreath.Theywon’tstop,hethinks.They’llneverstopuntileveryoneisdead.GodletithappenbecauseGod

wantsittohappen.AndnobodycanwinagainstGod.He’sGod.Megan’sbreathingfadesaway.Sam’stearsdry.Hefloatsinavast,emptyspace.There’snothing

andnoone,justemptyspacethatgoesonandonandon.Maybethat’sit,hethinks.Maybethere’salreadynobodyhumanleft.Maybethey’reallinfested.Whichmeanshe’sthelastone.He’sthelasthumanonEarth.Sampresseshishandsagainstthepistol.Touchingtheguncomfortshim.MeganhasBear.Hehas

thegun.Ifitisatrick,ifthey’reallaliensindisguise,hewon’tletthemwin.He’llkillthemallifhehasto.

Thenhe’llridetherescuepoduptothemothershipandblowitup.They’lllose—thelasthumanwilldie—butatleasttheOtherswon’twin.

Godsaidno.Hecan,too.

14ZOMBIE

ITTAKESLESSthananhourtoreachthecitylimitssign.Urbana,deadahead.Literally.IpullDumboofftheroadbeforewegoin.I’vebeendebatingwithmyselfwhethertotellhim,butthere’sreallynochoice.Heneedstoknow.

“YouknowwhatWalkeris,”Iwhisper.Henods.Hiseyesdartleft,right,thenbacktomyface.“He’safreakingalien.”“That’sright,itwasdownloadedintoWalker ’sbodywhenhewasakid.You’vegotsome,like

Vosch,runningthecamps,andthenyou’vegotothers,likeWalker,loneoperativeswhopatrolassignedterritories,pickingoffsurvivors.”

Dumbo’seyesleavemyfacetoconfrontthedarkagain.“Snipers?”“We’regonnabepassingthroughtwoofthoseterritories.OnethatrunsbetweenUrbanaandthe

caverns.Andonethatbeginsontheothersideofthissign.”Hewipesthebackofhishandacrosshismouth.Hetugsonanearlobe.“Okay.”“Andthey’reloadedforbear.Idon’tknow,somekindoftechnologythatjacksthemup.Gives

themsuperstrength,speed,senses,thatkindofthing.Wegoquickandwegoquiet.”Ileantowardhim.Importantheunderstands.“Ifsomethinghappenstome,youabortthismission.Getbacktothesafehouse.”

He’sshakinghishead.“Iwon’tleaveyou,Sarge.”“Yes,youwill.Andthat’sanorder,Private,incaseyou’rewondering.”“Wouldyouleaveme?”“YoubetyourassIwould.”Ipathimontheshoulder.HewatchessilentlyasIdigtheeyepieceout

ofmyrucksackandslipiton.Hisheadlightsupthroughthelens,abrightballofgreenfire.Isurveyoursurroundingsforanyothertelltalegreenblobswhileheputsonhisowneyepiece.

“Onelastthing,Bo,”Iwhisper.“Therearenofriendlies.”“Sarge?”Iswallow.Mymouthisdry.Iwishtherewereanotherway.Itmakesmesick,butIdidn’tinventthis

game.I’mjusttryingtostayalivelongenoughtoplay.“Uncleanglowsgreen.Anythingthatlightsup,wetakeout.Nohesitation.Noexceptions.

Understand?”“Thatwon’twork,Zombie.Whatifit’sRingerorTeacup?”Damn.Hadn’tthoughtofthat.Ialsohadn’tthoughtthroughRinger ’soptions,whichwereidentical

tomine.Shootfirstandaskquestionslater?Orfireonlyiffiredupon?IthinkIknowwhichshe’dchoose.She’sRinger.

Alittlevoiceinmyheadwhispers:Twoofyoudoubletherisk.SendDumboback.Thecool,quietvoiceofreason,whichhassoundedalotlikeRinger ’seversinceImether.Pointsyoujustcan’targuewith,likesomebodytellingyouthatgraniteishardandwateriswet.

Dumboisshakinghishead.We’vebeenthroughtheshittogether;heknowsme.“Twosetsofeyesarebetterthanone,Sarge.Wegolikeyousaid,quickandquiet,andhopefullyweseethembeforetheyseeus.”

HegivesmewhatIguessissupposedtobeareassuringsmile.IreturnwhatIhopepassesforaconfidentnod.Thenwego.

Double-timingstraightupMainintotheburned-out,debris-strewn,rat-infested,boarded-up,graffiti-decorated,sewage-stainedgutsofUrbana.Overturnedcarsanddownedpowerlinesandtrashpiledagainstfoundationsbywindandwater,trashblanketingyardsandparkinglots,trashhangingfromthewinter-baretreelimbs.Plasticbagsandnewspapers,clothing,shoes,toys,brokenchairsandmattresses,TVs.It’slikeacosmicgiantgrabbedtheplanetwithbothhandsandshookitashardashecould.MaybeifIweresomeevilalienoverlord,I’dblowupallthecities,too,justtogetridofthemess.

Weprobablyshouldhaveswungaroundthishellscape,usedthebackroadsandopencountry—I’mcertainRingerwouldhave—butifsheandCuparegonnabeanywhere,it’sthecaverns,andthisistheshortestroute.Quickandquiet,I’mthinkingaswetrotdownthesidewalk,oureyescuttinglefttorightandback

again,quickandquiet.Fourblocksin,wecometoasix-foot-highbarricadeblockingoffthestreet,ajumbleofcarsand

treebranchesandsmashedfurniturefestoonedinfadedAmericanflags,I’mguessingthrowntogetherasthe2ndWavebledintothe3rd,whenitdawnedonpeoplethatourfellowhumanswereabiggerthreatthanthealienspaceshipthatsoaredtwohundredmilesoverhead.Itblowsyourmind,howquicklyweslidintoanarchyaftertheypulledtheplug.Howeasyitwastosowconfusionandfearanddistrust.Andhowgoddamnedfastwefell.You’dthinkacommonenemywouldhaveforcedustosetasideourdifferencesandbandtogetheragainsttheescalatingthreat.Instead,webuiltbarricades.Wehoardedfoodandsuppliesandweapons.Weturnedawaythestranger,theoutsider,theunrecognizedface.Twoweeksintotheinvasionandcivilizationhadalreadycrackedatitsfoundation.Twomonths,anditcollapsedlikeanimplodedbuilding,fallingdownasthebodiespiledup.

We’veseenafewofthose,too,onourwayintoUrbana.Frompilesofblackenedbonestocorpseswrappedheadtotoeintatteredsheetsandoldblankets,justlyingthereintheopenlikethey’ddroppedfromthesky,aloneoringroupsoftenormore.Somanybodiesthattheyfadedintothebackground,justanotherpartofthemess,anotherpieceoftheurbanvomit.

Dumbo’seyesswingbackandforthrestlessly,searchingthedarkforgreenfireballs.“Messedup,”hebreathes.Despitethecold,sweatshinesonhisforehead.Heshiversasifgrippedbyafever.Ontheothersideofthebarricade,Icallabreak.Water.Apowerbar.I’vedevelopedthisthingaboutpowerbars.FoundawholecaseoftheminthesafehouseandnowIcan’tgetenoughofthem.Wefindasmallgapinthemakeshiftwallandnestleinside,facingnorthdownMainStreet.There’snowind.Theskyisclear,stuffedwithstars.Youcanfeelitdeepinyourbonesbecauseit’solderthanyoursenses:theendofwinter,theEarthslidingtowardspring.BeforeIbecameZombie,thatmeantpromandcrammingforfinalsandthenervouschatterinthehallwaysbetweenclassesbecausegraduationwascoming,adifferentkindofapocalypticeventafterwhichnothingwouldeverbethesame.

“YoueverbeentoUrbana,Dumbo?”Iask.Heshakeshishead.“I’mfromPittsburgh.”

“Really?”I’dneverasked.Itwastheunwrittenruleincamp:Talkingaboutourpastwaslikehandlinghotcoals.“Well.Go,Steelers.”

“Naw.”Hebitesoffahunkofpowerbarandchewsslowly.“IwasaPackersfan.”“Iplayedsome,youknow.”“Quarterback?”“Widereceiver.”“Mybrotherplayedbaseball.Shortstop.”“Notyou?”“IquitLittleLeaguewhenIwasten.”“Howcome?”“Isucked.ButIkillate-sports.”“E-sports?”“Youknow,likeCOD.”“Competitivefishing?”Heshakeshisheadwithasmile.“No.CallofDuty,Zombie.”“Oh!You’reagamer.”“IwasborderlineMLG.”“Oh,MLG,right.”Idon’thavethefirstcluewhathe’stalkingabout.“MaxLevel,PrestigeTwelve.”“Wow,really?”Ishakemyhead,thoroughlyimpressed.ExceptI’mtotallylost.“YouhavenoideawhatI’mtalkingabout.”Hecrumplesthewrapperinhisfist.Heglancesaround

atthegarbagelitteringeverysquareinchofUrbana,thenslipsthewrapperintohispocket.“There’ssomethingthat’sbeenbuggingme,Sarge.”

Heturnstome.Hisexposedeyeiswidewithanxiety.“So,waybeforetheirshipshowedup,theydownloadedthemselvesintobabiesanddidn’t‘wakeup’insidethemuntiltheywereteenagers.”

Inod.“That’swhatWalkersaid.”“Mybirthdaywaslastweek.I’mthirteen.”“Forreal?Damnit,Dumbo,whydidn’tyoutellme?Iwould’vebakedyouacake.”Hedoesn’tsmile.“WhatifIgotoneinsideme,Sarge?Whatifoneofthemisabouttowakeupin

mybrainandtakeover?”“You’renotserious,right?Comeon,Private,that’scrazytalk.”“Howdoyouknow?Imean,howdoyouknow,Zombie?AndthenithappensandIwasteyouandI

gobacktothehouseandwasteallofthem...”He’slosingit.Igrabhisarmandmakehimlookatme.“Listentome,youbig-earedsonofabitch,yougoDorothyonmenowandI’mgonnakickyour

assfromheretoDubuque.”“Please,”hewhines.“PleasestopbringingupDubuque.”“There’snoalienasleepinsideyou,Dumbo.”“Okay,butifyou’rewrong,you’lltakecareofit,right?”Iknowwhathemeans,butIgo,“Huh?”“Takecareofit,Zombie.”Pleadingwithme.“Killthemother-fucker.”Well,happyfriggingbirthday,Dumbo.Thisconversationhasgivenmetheheebie-jeebies.“It’sadeal,”Itellhim.“Analienwakesupinsideyou,I’llblowyourbrainsout.”Relieved,hesighs.“Thanks,Sarge.”

Istandup,holdoutmyhand,andhelphimtohisfeet.Hisarmswingsaroundandshovesmetooneside.Hisriflecomesup.He’saimingatthecardealershiphalfablockdown.Iliftmyweapon,closemyrighteye,andsquintthroughtheeyepiece.Nothing.

Dumboshakeshishead.“ThoughtIsawsomething,”hewhispers.“Guessnot.”Weholdforaminute.It’ssodamnquiet.You’dthinkthetownwouldbeoverrunwithpacksof

wilddogsbarkingandferalcatshowlingorevenadamnowlhooting,butthere’snothing.Isitallinmyhead,thisfeelingofbeingwatched?Thatthere’ssomethingoutthereIcan’tseebutcansureashellseeme?IglanceatDumbo,who’sclearlyjustasspooked.

Wemoveout,notonthequicknowbutsidesteppingtotheoppositesideofthestreet,whereweslidealongthewalloftheconsignmentstorefacingthedealership(SPRINGINTOSAVINGSTHISMEMORIALDAY!).Wedon’tstopuntilwereachthenextintersection.Checkright,checkleft,thenstraightaheadtowarddowntown,threeblocksaway,thebuildings’bigboxyshadowssilhouettedagainstthestarrysky.

Wetrotacrosstheintersection,thenstopagainontheotherside,pressingourbacksagainstthewallandwaiting—forwhat,I’mnotsure.Wescootpastbusted-outdoorsandshatteredwindows,thesoundofglasscrunchingunderourbootslouderthansonicbooms,anotherblock,thenrepeatingthedrill,leftaroundthecorner,rightacrossMain,thenzippingtotherelativesafetyofthenextbuildingontheoppositecorner.

WemakeitanotherfiftyyardsandthenDumbotugsonmysleeve,leadingmethroughabrokenglassdoorandintotheneardarkofashop.Brownpebblescrunchunderfoot.No,notpebbles.Thesmellisfaint,barelydiscerniblebeneaththefamiliarrotofsewageandthespoiled-milkodorofplague,butwebothpickitup,andthere’salittleacheofnostalgiawhenwedo.Coffee.

Dumboeasesdowninfrontofthecounter,facingthedoorway,andIgivehimalook:What’sup?“IlovedStarbucks,”hesighs.Likethatmakeseverythingperfectlyclear.Isitbesidehim.Idon’tknow,maybeheneedsabreak.Wedon’ttalk.Theminutesdragout.

Finally,Isay,“Wegottabethehelloutofthistownbysunrise.”Dumbonods.Hedoesn’tmove.“There’ssomeoneoutthere,”hesays.“Yousawthem?”Heshakeshishead.“ButIfeelthem.Youknow?Ifeelthem.”Ithinkaboutit.Paranoia.Hastobe.“Wecouldtrytodrawtheirfire,”Isuggest,humoringhim.“Ordistractthem,”hesays,glancingaroundthestore.“Blowsomethingup.”Herummagesthroughhissackandpullsoutagrenade.“No,Dumbo.Notagoodidea.”Ieasethegrenadefromhishand.Hisfingersarecolderthanthe

metal.“They’regonnaslideinbehindus,”heargues.“Wewon’tevenseeitcoming.”“Well,I’drathernotseeitcoming.”Ismileathim.Hedoesn’tsmileback.Dumbo’salwaysbeen

thecoolestplayerontheteam,probablywhytheypickedhimtobethemedic.Nothingfazedthekid.Atleast,nothingtillnow.

“Sarge,Igotanidea,”hesays,leaningsoclose,Icansmellthechocolatefromthepowerbaronhisbreath.“Youstayhere.Igoonahead—butinadifferentdirection.OnceIdrawthemoff,youcanhaulassduenorthand—”

Istophim.“That’saterribleidea,Private.Areally,reallyterribleidea.”Heisn’tlistening.“Thatway,atleastoneofusmakesit.”“Stowthatshit.We’rebothgonnamakeit.”Shakinghishead.Hisvoicebreaks.“Idon’tthinkso,Sarge.”

Heripsoffhiseyepieceandstaresatmeforoneverylong,veryuncomfortablemoment.Helooksstartled,asifhe’sseenaghost.ThenDumbolungesatme,risingtohisfeetandcomingstraightatmewithhandsoutstretchedlikehe’sgoingtograbmebythethroatandchokethelifeoutofme.

Iraisemyownhandsinstinctivelytoblocktheattack.OhChrist,ohChrist,thebig-earedsonofabitchwasright,itwokeup,thethingwokeupinhim.

Myfingerscatchholdofhisjacket.Dumbo’sheadsnapsback.Hisbodystiffens,thengoeslimp.Ihearthereportofthesniperrifleasecondlater,thekindofriflewithalaser-guidedscope,which

firedthebulletthatasecondbeforewascomingstraightatmyhead.ThebulletthatDumbotookforme,acceptedwithouthesitation,becauseI’mtheman,theCO,the

thick-headedmoronthattheenemyinallhisinfinitewisdomputinchargeofkeepingourassesalive.

15IGRABHIMbytheshouldersanddraghimbehindthecounter.Outofthelineoffirebutalsocornered;Idon’thavemuchtime.Iputhimonhisstomach,yankupthejacketandthetwoshirtsunderneathtoexposethewound.Aquarter-sizedholerightinthemiddleofhisback.Thebullethastobeinsidehim—otherwiseI’dbehit,too.Hischestmoves.He’sbreathing.Ileandownandwhisperinhisear,“Tellmewhattodo,Dumbo.Tellme.”Hedoesn’tsayanything.Probablyneedsallhisenergyjusttobreathe.Zombie,youcan’tstayhere.Thatcalm,Ringerishvoiceagain.Cuthimloose.Sure.Cuthimloose.That’smything.That’showIroll.Icutmysisterloose,IcutPoundcake

loose.TheygodownandIkeepgoing.Fuckthat.Icrawlaroundtothefrontofthecounter,grabDumbo’sbag,andgobacktohim.He’scurledinto

aball,kneespressedagainsthischest,andhiseyelidsflutterlikesomeonehavingabaddream.Itearthroughhismedkit,lookingforthegauze.Ihavetopackthewound.IrememberthatmuchfrommyoneandonlycourseinbattlefieldinjuriesatCampHaven.IfIdon’tpackitandpackitfast,hecouldbleedoutinlessthanthreeminutes.

TheotherthingIrememberfromthatcourse:Ithurtslikehell.Hurtssogoddamnedbad,thefirstthingyou’resupposedtodoistakeawaythepatient’sweapons.

SoIpullhissidearmfromtheholsterandtuckitbehindmyback.Thereshouldbeathinmetalrodinthekit—youuseittopushthegauzeintothewound—butI

can’tfindit.Bugout,Zombie.You’reouttatime.Ipushthegauzeintotheholeinhisbackwithmyfinger.Dumbobowsup.Hescreams.Thenhe

instinctivelytriestoescape,clawingatthebaseofthecounterforahandhold,andIwrapthefingersofmyfreehandaroundhisnecktokeephimstill.

“It’sgood,Bo.It’sallgood...”Whisperinginhisearasmyfingersinksinsidehim,pushingthewadofgauzeaheadofit.Moregauze.Gottapackittight.Ifthatbulletslicedanartery...

Ipullmyfingerout.Heletslooseanotherbansheehowl,andIcuphischin,forcinghismouthclosed.Idon’tmoveslow.Idon’tgogentle.Iramanotherwadintothewound.Dumboisjerkingagainstme,sobbinghelplessly.Ilieonmysidebehindhimandthrowmylegoverhiswaisttokeephimstill.“Onemoretime,Bo,”Iwhisper.“Almostthere...”

Thenit’sdone.Thegauzepokesoutofthewound;Ican’tpushanymoreinside.Itearopenabandagewithmyteethandslapitovermyhandiwork.Irollontomyback,pullinghardforair.Probablytoolittle,toolate.Besideme,Dumbocontinuestocry,thesobsdwindlingtowhimpers.Hisbodyshuddersagainstmine;he’sgoingintoshock.

Backtothebagtofindsomethingforthepain.He’sonhiswayout,he’sdying,I’mprettysureofthat,butatleastIcanhelphimgoeasy.Itearopenamorphinesyretteandjabtheneedleintohisexposedhip.Theeffectisalmostimmediate.Hismusclesrelax,hismouthgoesslack,hisbreathingslows.

“See?Notsobad,”Itellhim,likeI’msettlinganargument.“I’mcomingbackforyou,Bo.I’mfindingthebastardandthenI’mcomingback.”Ohboy,Zombie,you’vedoneitnow.Thepromisefeelslikeadeathsentence,acelldoorslamming

shut,astonearoundmyneckthat’sdestinedtocarrymedown.

16BACKAROUNDTHECOUNTERtofetchmyrifle.Rifle,sidearm,knife,acoupleofflashgrenades.Andonemorething,themostessentialweaponinmyarsenal:aheartfullofrage.I’mblowingthebastardwhoshothimbacktoDumbo’sfavoritetown.

Scootingonmyhandsandkneesdownthehallwaytotheemergencyexitdoor(WARNING!ALARMWILLSOUND!).Ontothesidestreet,beneaththecoldstarlight.I’maloneforthefirsttimesincemyfamily’smurder—notrunningawaythistime,though.Nomoreofthat.

Iheadeast.Atthenextblock,Iturnnorthagain,parallelingMainStreet.I’llcutbackafteracouplemoreblocks,crossMaintothenextstreet,thencomeattheshooterfromtherear.Assuminghehasn’talreadycrossedthestreettofinishthejob.MightnotbetheSilencer.Couldbeacivilianwho’slearnedthefirstlessonofthelastwar.Notthatitmakesanydifference.Backatthesafehouse,Cassietoldmeaboutfindingasoldierinsideaconveniencestorewhileshe

wasforagingforsupplies.Shekilledhim.Thoughthewaspullingaweaponthatturnedouttobeacrucifix.Ittoreherup.Shecouldn’tgetitoutofherhead.HemusthavethoughthewastheluckiestsonofabitchonEarth.Separatedfromhisunit,badlywounded,unabletodoanythingbutwaitforarescuethatwouldprobablynevercome,andthenoutofnowherethisrandomgirlshowsup;hewassaved.Thentherandomgirlopenedupwithherrifleandturnedhisbodyintoapincushion.

“Notyourfault,Sullivan,”Itoldher.“Youdidn’thaveachoice.”“Bullshit,”shesnappedatme.Shetendedtosnapatmealot.Well,notjustme.Thegirl’sa

snapper.“That’sthelietheywantustobelieve,Parish.”BackonMain.Easinguptothecorner,Ipeekaroundtheedgeofthebuildingtowardthecoffee

shop.Directlyacrossfromitisathree-story,windowsboardeduponthebottomfloor,fracturedonthetoptwo.Nothingglowsinthewindowsorontheroof;nogreenballsoflightthroughtheeyepiece.Iholdforafewseconds,watchingthefront.Iknowthedrill.Thatbuildinghastobecleared.Wepracticeditathousandtimesincamp,onlywehadsevenguystodoit.Flint,Oompa,Ringer,Teacup,Poundcake,Dumbo—downtojustonenow.Downtome.

Hunchedover,ItrotacrossMainStreet,everyinchofmybodytingling,expectingthepunchofthesniper ’sbullet.WhosebrightideawasittocutstraightthroughUrbana?Whoputthatguyincharge?

Keepmoving,stayfocused,checkthosewindowsupthere,thosedoorsoverthere.Thestreetischokedwithtrashandbrokenglass,slickwiththeresiduefromrupturedsewerlinesandwatermains,puddlesofoilywaterglimmeringinthestarlight.Oneblockover,thencuttingbacksouth.Thebuildingisstraightaheadattheendoftheblock,andIforcemyselftoslowdown.You’retaughttostayinthemoment,butthemomentI’ministheonethathappensafterI’veneutralizedtheshooter.

DoIabortthemissiontofindRingerandTeacup?GetDumbobacktothesafehouse?Orleavehimhereandpickhimuplateronmywaybackfromthecaverns?

I’vereachedtheendoftheblock.Timetomakethecall.OnceIpenetratethebuilding,I’mallin,there’snogoingback.

Istepthroughabrokenplate-glasswindowandintothelobbyofabank.Acarpetofpapercoversthefloor:depositslipsandbrochuresandoldmagazinesandtheremnantsofabanner(OURLOWESTRATESEVER!)andbillsineverydenomination—Icanseehundredsamongthefivesandtens.

Thedamp,rottingcarpetsquishesbeneathmyboots.Isweeptheroominlessthanthirtyseconds.Clear.

Ifindthestairwaydooroppositetheelevatorandeaseitopen.I’mdowntozerovisibility,butI’mnotriskinglight;ImightaswellscreamoutmynameoryellHey,bud,hereIam!Inthestairwell,thedoorclicksshutbehindme,sealingmeinsideabsolutedarkness.Onestepup,pause,strainingmyears,anotherstep,pause.Faintly,thebuildinggroansaroundmelikeanoldhousesettling.Theharshwinter,thebrokenpipeswithinthewalls,waterwormingitswayintothemortar,freezing,expanding,breakingapartthebonesandsinewsthatholdthestructuretogether.IftheOthersweren’tdroppingthebombsinfourdays,Urbanawouldcrumbleonitsown.Inathousandyears,youcouldholdtheentiretyofthecityinthepalmofyourhand.

Firstlanding,secondfloor.Ikeepmovingup,onehandonthemetalrailing,step,pause,step.I’llstartontheroofandworkmywaydown.Idon’tthinkhe’snestingupthere;DumboandIwerehunkeredbythebackcounter,andthetrajectoryfromtherooftopintothecoffeeshopistoosharp.Morelikelythesniper ’ssetuponthesecondfloor,butI’mgoingtobemethodicalaboutthis.ThinkthrougheverymovebeforeImakeit.

Ismellithalfwaytothesecondfloor,onthelandingwherethestairsturn:theunmistakablestinkofdeath.Isteponsomethingsmallandsoft.Probablyadeadrat.Inthetight,closed-inspace,thestenchisoverwhelming.Myeyespourwater,mystomachrisesintomythroat.Anothergoodreasontoblowupthecities:It’sthefastestwaytogetridofthesmell.

Aboveme,arazor-thinbarofgoldenlightshinesbeneaththedoor.HolycrapandWTF,he’sabrazenbastard.

Ipressmyearagainstthedoor.Silence.Thoughitmightseemobvious,I’mnotsurewhattodo.Thedoorcouldbebooby-trapped.Orthelightcouldbearuse—baittoluremeintoanambush.Attheveryleast,thedoor ’sgottaberiggedtomakeasoundifit’sopened.Youdon’thavetobeaSilencertotakethatprecaution.

Idropmyhandontothecoldmetaldoorhandle.Ifiddlewiththeeyepiece,stalling.Youdon’teasein,Parish—youbustthrough.

Theworstpartisn’tthebustingthrough,though.Theworstpartisthesecondbeforeyoudo.Ithrowopenthedoor,whipsharplytomyleft,thenstepintothehallandturnbackhardtothe

right.Nobelljingled,nostackofemptycansclatteredtothefloor.Thedoorswingsclosedsilentlybehindmeonwell-oiledhinges.Myfingertwitchesonthetriggerasashadowracesacrossthewall,ashadowthat’sattachedtoasmall,orange,furrycreaturewithastripedtail.

Acat.Theanimaldartsthroughanopendoorwayhalfwaydownthecorridor,outofwhichpoursthe

goldenlightthatIsawinthestairwell.AsIeasetowardthelight,thesmellofdecayisovercomebytwoverydifferentsmells:hotsoup,maybebeefstew,warringwiththeunmistakableodorofadirtylitterbox.Icanhearahigh-pitchedvoicewarblingsoftly:

WhenthroughthewoodsandforestgladesIwanderAndhearthebirdssingsweetlyinthetrees...

I’veheardthissongbefore.Manytimes.Ievenremembertherefrain:

Thensingsmysoul,mySaviorGod,tothee:Howgreatthouart!Howgreatthouart!

Hervoiceremindsmeofanother,thinandscratchyfromage,slightlyoutoftune,singingwithfiercedeterminationandtheself-assurancethatcomeswithunshakablefaith.HowmanySundaysdidIstandbesidemygrandmotherwhileshesangthishymn?Boredoutofmyadolescentmind,silentlybitchingaboutmyitchycollaranduncomfortableshoes,daydreamingaboutmylatestcrushandsacrilegiouslychanging(inmyhead)thelastlinetoHowgreatthyass!Howgreatthyass!

Hearingthatsongopensafloodgatethroughwhichthememoriespour,unstoppable.Grandma’sperfume.Herthicklegsencasedinwhitestockingsandhersquare-toedblackshoes.Thewaythepowdercakedinthedeepcrevicesofherface,atthecornersofhermouthandherdark,kindeyes.TheknobbinessofherarthriticknucklesandhowsheheldthesteeringwheelofthatancientMercurylikeadesperateswimmerclutchingalifesaver.Chocolatechipcookiesfreshfromtheovenandapplepiescoolingonracksandhervoiceintheotherroomrisinginexcitementasthelatestbombshellsweredeliveredbyaladyinherprayercircle.

Stoppingjustshortofthedoorway,Ipulloutoneofthestungrenades.Islipmyfingerintothepin.Myhandsareshaking.Adribbleofsweatcoursesdownthemiddleofmyback.Thisishowtheygetyou,thisishowtheycrushthespiritrightoutofyou.Outofthebluethepastisrammeddownyourthroat,agutpunchofmemoriesofallthethingsyoutookforgranted,thethingsthatyoulostintheblinkofaneye,thestupid,trivial,forgettablethingsyoudidn’tknowcouldcrushyou,thingslikeanoldwoman’squiveryvoice,high-pitchedandfaraway,callingyouinsideforaplateofwarmcookiesandaglassofice-coldmilk.Thensingsmysoul,mySaviorGod,tothee!Ipullthepinandtossthegrenadethroughtheopendoor.Ablindingflash,theterrifiedchorusof

catsscreeching,andahumanbeingcryingoutinpain.Iswingintothedoorway,sightingthecrumpledfigureinthefarcorneroftheroom,herface

hiddenbehindtheswirlofgreenfirecreatedbymyeyepiece.Takeher,Zombie.Oneshotanddone.ButIdon’tpullthetrigger.I’mnotsurewhatstopsme.Maybeit’sthecats,dozensofthemleaping

anddivingoverandunderfurniture.Maybeit’shersinging,howsheremindedmeofmygrandmotherandalltheuncountablelostthings.Maybeit’sSullivan’sstory,herCrucifixSoldiercoweringinacorner,defenselessanddoomed.Ormaybeit’sthesimplefactthatthelightfromkerosenelampsplacedaroundtheroomshowmethatsheisn’tarmed.Insteadofasniper ’srifle,she’sclutchingawoodenspoon.

“Please,God,don’tkillme!”theoldladyshrieks,curlingherselfintoatightlittleballandthrowingherhandsoverherface.Isweeptheroomquickly.Cornersclear,nowayinoroutexceptthewayIjustcame.ThewindowfacingMainStreetishiddenbehindheavyblackdrapes.Istepovertoitandpushthematerialasidewiththemuzzleofmyrifle.Thewindow’sbeenboardedup.NowonderIdidn’tseethelightfromthestreet.Thebarrieralsotellsmethisisn’tanysniper ’snest.

“Pleasedon’t,”shewhimpers.“Pleasedon’thurtme.”

Thegreenfiresurroundingherheadisbuggingme;Iyankofftheeyepiece.NexttothewindowisasmalltableonwhichapotofstewburblesoveracanofSterno.There’saBiblenexttoit,opentotheTwenty-ThirdPsalm.There’sasofapiledwithblanketsandpillows.Acoupleofchairs.Adesk.Apottedplastictree.Listingtowersofmagazinesandnewspapers.It’snotthesniperkind,butit’sdefinitelyanest.

She’sprobablybeenholedupheresincethe3rdWaverolledthroughtown.Andthatraisesanimportantquestion:How’dshemakeitthislongwithouttheresidentSilencerfindingher?

“Whereishe?”Iask.Myvoicesoundsweakandtooyoungtomyownears,likeI’vefallenbackwardthroughtime.“Where’stheshooter?”

“Shooter?”sheechoes.Hergrayhairisstuffedintoaknitcap,butafewwispystrandshaveescapedandfalloneithersideofherpaleface.She’swearingblacksweatpants,herupperhalfencasedinseverallayersofsweaters.Isteptowardher,andsheshrinksfartherintothecorner,clutchingthespoontoherchest.Cathairflitsanddancesinthesmoky,goldenlight,andIsneeze.

“Blessyou,”shesaysautomatically.“Youhadtohearit,”Itellher,meaningtheshotthattookdownDumbo.“Youhavetoknowhe’s

here.”“There’snoonehere,”shesqueaks.“Justmeandmybabies.Pleasedon’thurtmybabies!”Ittakesmeasecondtounderstandshe’stalkingaboutthecats.Imovearoundtheroom,alongthe

narrowpathsthatwindthroughthestacksofoldmagazines,oneeyeonher,theotherlookingforweapons.There’reahundredplacestohideaguninthisclutter.Ipokethroughthemoundofblanketsonthesofa.Icheckunderthedesk,pullingopenacoupleofdrawers,thenbehindtheplasticplant.Acatdashesbetweenmylegs,hissing.Iweavemywayovertohercornerandorderhertostandup.

“Areyougoingtokillme?”shewhispers.Ishould.IknowIshould.Theriskisinlettingherlive.TheshotthatDumbotookformecame

fromsomewhereinthisbuilding.Islingtherifleovermyshoulder,drawmysidearm,andorderherupagain.It’sastruggleforbothofus—herphysicalbattletogetherlegsbeneathher,mypsychologicalonetoresisttheinstincttohelpher.Upright,shesways,handstoherchest,worryingwiththatdamnspoon.

“Dropthespoon.”“Youwantmetodropmyspoon?”“Dropit.”“It’sjustaspoon...”“Dropthedamnspoon!”Shedropsthedamnspoon.Itellhertofacethewallandputherhandsontopofherhead.She

swallowsbackasob.Istepupbehindher,placeonehandontopofhers—they’recoldasacorpse’s—andpatherdown.Okay,Zombie,she’sclean.Nowwhat?Timetofishorcutbait.

Maybeshedidn’theartheshot.Herhearingmaybebad.Sheisanoldlady,afterall.Maybetheshooterknowsshe’sherebutdoesn’tbotherwithherbecause,afterall,she’sanoldcatlady,whatthreatcanshereallypose?

“Whoelseishere?”Isaytothebackofherhead.“Noone,noone,Iswear,noone.Ihaven’tseenalivingsoulinmonths.Justmeandmybabies.

Justmeandmybabies...!”“Turnaround.Keepyourhandsontopofyourhead.”Sheexecutesaone-eighty,andnowI’mlookingdownintoapairofbrightgreeneyesnearlylost

infoldsofwitheredskin.Themoundsofclotheshidehowthinsheis,butyoucanseethesignsof

slowstarvationinherface,thecheekbonespokingout,thehollowsathertemples,theeyessunkenandringedinblack.Hermouthhangsopenalittle—shehasnoteeth.

OhChrist.Thelasthumangenerationhasbeenforgedintokillingmachinesbyfalsehopeandlies,andcomespring,the5thWavewillrollacrosstheworld,slaughteringeveryoneinitspath,includingthewoundedboyswhohideincoolersholdingtheircrucifixesandoldcatladiesclutchingtheirwoodenspoons.Pullthetrigger,Zombie.Everybody’sluckrunsout.Ifyoudon’tkillher,someoneelsewill.Iraisemypistoltothelevelofhereyes.

17SHEFALLSTOherkneesatmyfeet,andsheraisesheremptyhandstowardme,andshedoesn’tsayanythingbecausethereisn’tanythingtosay:She’ssureshe’sgoingtodie.

Theytrainedmetodothis,preparedmeforit,emptiedmeandfilledmeupagainwithhate,butI’venevershotanyone—notinallthistime.CassieSullivan’shandsarebloodierthanmine.Thefirsttime’sthehardest,shetoldme.BythetimeIshotthatlastsoldieratCampHaven,Ifelt

nothing.Ican’tevenrememberwhathelookedlike.“Myfriend’sbeenshot.”Myvoicebreaks.“Eitheryoushothimorsomeoneyouknowdid.Play

straightwithme.”“Idon’tleavethisroom.Ihaven’tinweeks.Itisn’tsafeoutthere,”shewhispersback.“Istayin

herewithmybabiesandwait...”“Wait?Waitforwhat?”She’sstalling.AndI’mstalling,too.Idon’twanttobewrong—orright.Idon’twanttostepover

thatlineandbethepersontheOthershavemademe.Idon’twanttokillanotherhumanbeing—innocentornot.

“TheLambofGod,”sheanswers.“He’scoming,youknow.Anydaynow,andthewheatshallbeseparatedfromthechaff,thegoatsfromthesheep,andhewillcomeinhisglorytojudgethelivingandthedead.”

“Oh,sure,”Ichokeout.“Everybodyknowsthat.”ShesensesitbeforeIdo:I’mnotpullingthetrigger.Ican’t.Asweet,childlikesmilespreads

acrossthefurrowedlandscapeofherfacelikethemorningsunbreakingoverthehorizon.Ishufflebackward,knockingintothelittletablebythewindow.Thestewsloshesovertherimof

thepot,andthesmallcanoffirebeneathithissesangrily.“Mysoup!”shecries,strugglingtoherfeet,andIbackfartheraway,keepingthegunonher,but

it’sahollowthreat;webothknowit.Theoldladyscoopsthespoonfromthefloorandhobblesovertothebubblingpot.Thesoundofthewoodknockingagainstthemetalsidesofthepotdrawsadozencatsfromtheirhidingplaces.Mystomachtightens.Ihaveeatennothingbutapowerbarinovertwelvehours.

Grandmagivesmeasidewayslookthatbordersonsly,andasksifI’dlikeataste.“Idon’thavetime,”Itellher.“Ihavetogetbacktomyfriend.”Hereyesfillwithtears.“Fiveminutes,please?I’vebeensolonely.”Shestirsthesoup.“Ranoutof

thecansamonthago,butonemakesdo.”Glancingoveragain.Ashysmile.“Youcouldbringyourfriendhere.Ihavemedicinesandwecanprayforhim.TheLordhealsallwhoaskwithapureheart.”

Mylipsaredry,thoughmymouthiswatering.Thebloodpoundsinmyears.Acatrubsagainstmycalf,havingdecidedI’mnotsuchabadguyafterall.

“Thatwouldn’tbeagoodidea,”Itellher.“Itisn’tsafehere.”

Shegivesmeastartledlook.“Andthere’saplacethatis?”Ialmostlaugh.She’sold,butsharp.Andtough.Andfearless.Andfulloffaith.She’dhavetobeto

survivethislong.Whoever ’sleftnowwillhaveherkindofspirit—whatdidCassiecallthem?Thebentbutunbrokenones.ForadesperateinstantIconsidertakingherupontheoffer,leavingDumbowithherwhileIracetothecavernstofindCupandRinger.Itmightbehisbestchance—no,hisonlychance.

Iclearmythroat.“Youranoutofcans?Sowhat’sinthesoup?”Sheraisesthespoontoherlips,closeshereyes,sipsthebrownishbroth.Thecatatmyfeetliftsits

mangyheadandstaresupatmewithhugeyelloweyes.Iknowwhatshe’sgoingtosayamicrosecondbeforeshesaysit.“Cat.”Inonefluidmotion,shehurlsthescaldingliquidtowardmyface.Istumblebackward,knock

againstastackofmagazines,andlosemybalance.She’sonmebeforeIhitthefloor,herfingerslockingaroundafistfulofmyjacket,whichsheusestohurlmeacrosstheroomaseasilyasakidthrowsastuffedanimal.TheriflefallsfrommyshoulderwhenIhitthefarwall.Lyingonmyside,Ipointmysidearmattheshimmeringblobhurtlingtowardme.

She’stoofastorI’mtooslow—sheknocksthegunoutofmyhand.Herfingerslockaroundmythroat.Sheyanksmeupright,shovesmyheadagainstthewallandbringsherfaceclosetomine,herdeepgreeneyessparkingwithinfinitemalice.

“Youshouldn’tbehere,”shehisses.“It’stoosoon.”Herfaceswimsintoandoutoffocus.Toosoon?ThenIunderstand:Shesawtheeyepiece.She

thinksI’mpartofthe5thWave,whichwon’tbelaunchedforanotherweek,aftershereturnstothemothership,afterUrbanaandeveryothercityonEarthisgone.

I’vefoundtheUrbanaSilencer.

18“CHANGEOFPLANS,”Igasp.She’sallowingmejustenoughair.Thegripofhericyfingersissohard,thestrengthbehinditsoobvious,I’msureshecouldsnapmyneckwithaflickofherbonywrist.Thatwouldbebad.BadforDumbo,badforRingerandTeacup,andespeciallybadforme.Theonlythingthat’skeptmealiveishersurprisethatI’mhere,milesfromthenearestbaseandinaplacethatwon’texistatweek’send.Yourfault,Zombie.Youhadthechancetoneutralizeherandyoublewit.Well.Sheremindedmeofmygrandmother.GrandmaSilencercocksherheadatmyresponse,likeacuriousbirdspyingatastymorsel.

“Changeofplans?Thatisn’tpossible.”“Airsupport’salreadybeencalledin,”Igasp,desperatetobuytime.“Didn’tyouheartheplane?”

EachsecondIkeepheroffbalanceisanothersecondoflife.Ontheotherhand,tellingherthatbombersareontheirwaymaybetheshortestpathtothequickestdeath.

“Idon’tbelievethat,”shetellsme.“Ithinkyou’reafilthylittleliar.”Myrifleliesacoupleoffeetaway.Veryclose.Toofar.Againsheremindsmeofabird,theway

shecocksherheadwhenshelooksatme,herheadtiltedtoonesidelikeadamnedgreen-eyedcrow,andthenIfeelit—theviolentthrustofaninvadingconsciousness,herconsciousness,rippingintomelikeadrillintosoftwood.Ifeelcrushedandflayedopenatthesametime.There’snopartofmehiddenfromher,nothingsafeorsacred.It’sliketheWonderlandprogram,onlyit’snotmymemoriesshe’smining,it’sme.

“Somuchpain,”shemurmurs.“Somuchloss.”Herfingerstightenonmythroat.“Whoareyoulookingfor?”

WhenIrefusetoanswer,shecutsoffmyair.Blackstarsbegintobloomwithinmysight.Outofthedarkness,mysistercallsmyname.AndIthink,Christ,Sullivan,youwereright.Thisshe-witchwouldn’thavemeinachokeholdifIhadn’tansweredthatcall.Mysisterbroughtmehere—notTeacup,notRinger.

Myfingertipsbrushthestockoftherifle.Theoldcat-eatingSilencerislaughinginmyface,sour-breathedandtooth-deprived,buzz-sawingintomysoul,chewingupmylifeasshechokesitoutofme.

Icanstillhearmysister,butnowIseeDumbocurledupbehindthecounterinthecoffeeshop,cryingoutformewithhiseyesbecausehehasnostrengthlefttospeak.Igowhereyougo,Sarge.Ilefthim,lefthimlikeIleftmysister,aloneanddefenseless.Jesus,Ieventookhisgun.Holycrap.Thegun.

19FIRSTSHOTISatpoint-blankrange,rightintohersaggy,cat-filledgut.

Thebulletdoesn’tbreakherhold.Unbelievably,shehangsontomythroat,squeezing.Ianswerwithasqueezeofmyown:Asecondshotthatlandsinthevicinityofherheart.Herrheumyeyeswidenslightly,andI’mabletowormmyarmbetweenourbodiesandpushheraway.Hercrabbyfingersaroundmyneckloosen,andIsuckinalungfulofthesweetestsour-smellingdander-infestedairI’veeverbreathed.GrandmaSilencerisn’tdown,though.She’sjustcatchinghersecondwind.

Shelungesatme.Irollhardtomyright.Herheadsmacksthewall.Ifireagain.Theroundsmashesthroughherribcage,butstillshepushesherselffromthewallandcrawlstowardme,hackingupwadsofbrightred,oxygen-richblood.Whatdrivesthatancientbodyistenthousandyearsoldandcontainsmorehatethantheoceansholdwater.Plusshe’sbeenaugmentedbytechnologythatstrengthensandsustainsher—psh!What’sabulletortwo?Comehere,sonny!Still,Idon’tthinkit’sthetechnologythatdrivesher.

It’sthehate.Ibackup.Shecomeson.MyheelknocksagainstastackofpaperandIdroptothefloorwitha

bone-jarringthump.Herraggedclawsscratchatmyboot.Iholdthegunwithhandsthatarebloodyatlast.

Herbackbowslikeacatstretchingonawindowsill.Hermouthopensbutnosoundcomesout,alotofblood,butnosound.Shemakesonelastlunge.HerforeheadknocksagainstthemuzzlejustasIsqueezethetrigger.

20ISCOOPUPmyrifle—screwthepistol—andboltfromtheroom.Hall,stairs,banklobby,street.Finallybackatthecoffeeshop,Icrawlbehindthecounter.Youbetterbealive,youbig-earedsonofabitch.

Heis.Flutterypulse,shallowbreath,ashyskin,buthe’salive.Sonowwhat?Gobacktothesafehouse?Thesafestoption,theoptionofminimalrisk.TheoneRingerwould

recommend,andshe’stheexpertonrisk.Don’tknowwhatI’llfindatthecaverns,evenifwemanagetoreachthem:There’sanotherSilenceroutthere.TheoddsarethatRingerandCuparealreadydead,whichmeansthatI’mnotonlymarchingtomyownexecution,butbringingDumbotohis.

UnlessIleavehimhereandpickhimuponmywayback,assumingImakeitback.Betterforhim,betterforme.He’saburdennow,aliability.

SoI’llleavehimbehindafterall.Hey,Dumbo,Iknowyoutookabulletformeandeverything,butyou’reonyourown,pal.I’mouttahere.Isn’tthathowBenParishrolls?Damnit,Zombie,decidealready.Dumboknewtheriskandhecameanyway.Takingthatbulletfor

youwashiscall.Goingbackmeanshetookthebulletfornothing.Ifhe’sgonnadie,atleastgivehisdeathmeaning.

Icheckthedressingforfreshbleeding.Igentlylifthisheadandslidehisrucksackbeneathitforapillow.Itakethelastsyretteofmorphinefromthemedkitandjabitintohisforearm.

Ileandownandwhisper,“See,Bo,Icameback.”Smoothinghishairwithmyhand.“Igother.Theinfestedbitchwhoshotyou.Poppedherrightbetweentheeyes.”Hisforeheadisblazinghotbeneathmyhand.“Ican’tstayhererightnow,Bo.ButI’mcomingbackforyou.I’mcomingbackorI’lldietrying.Probablydie,sodon’tgetyourhopesup.”

Ilookawayfromhim.Butthere’snothingelsetolookat.I’malljackedup,abouttoloseit.I’mbouncingfromonebrutaldeathtoanother.Eventually,somethingveryimportantinsideisgoingtocrack.

Ipullhishandintomine.“Now,listentome,youelephant-earedmotherfucker.I’mgonnafindTeacupandRinger,andthenwe’repickingyouuponourwaybackandwe’reallgoinghometogether,andeverything’sgonnabefine.BecauseI’mthesargeandthat’showIsayit’sgonnabe.Yougotthat?Areyoulisteningtome,soldier?Youarenotallowedtodie.Understand?That’sadirectorder.Youarenotallowedtodie.”

Hiseyesjitterbehindthelids;maybehe’sdreaming.Maybehe’ssittinginhisroom,playingCallofDuty;Ihopeso.

ThenIleavehimlyingincoffeegroundsandwadsofpapernapkinsandscatteredcoins.Dumbo’salonenowandsoamI,plungingintotheblack,deadheartofUrbana.Squad53isgone,

brokenapart,deadormissingordyingorrunning.RIP,Squad53.

21CASSIE

IHAVETOgetthisstraight.Now.Like,rightnow.Thisbeingmyhead.FourA.M.Jazzedupontoomuchchocolate(thanks,Grace)andtoomuchEvanWalker.Ornot

enoughEvanWalker.That’saninsidejoke,ifyoucanmakeinsidejokesinaprivatejournal.I’llgettotheprivatepartslater.Ha!Anotherjoke.Youknowyou’vereachedaverysadplacewhentheonlypersonwhocanmakeyoulaughisyourself.

Thehouseisquiet,notevenawhisperofwindagainsttheboarded-upwindow,thesilenceofthevoid,asiftheworldstoppedbreathingandI’mthelastpersononEarth.Again.

Damn,IwishtherewassomeoneIcouldtalkto.BenandDumboaregone.AllIhaveleftareSam,Megan,andEvan.Twoareasleepintheirroom.

Theother(Other,ha!it’sreallypitiful)isawakeandonwatchandissomeonewithwhomthemoreItalk,themorecrookedmyheadgets.Foroveramonthnowhe’sbeenfadingaway.Hereandthennothere.Talking,thensayingnothing.Mr.Spacemanstaringoffintospace.Damnit,Evan,wherehaveyougone?IthinkIknow,butknowingwhydoesn’thelpmyfeelingsofEvanlessness.

Andsomehowneitherdoesthesmellofhisaftershavelingeringintheroom.AfterBenleft,Evanshaved.Hewashedhishairandscrubbedaweek’sworthofgrimefromhisbody.Heeventrimmedhisnailsandaddressedhisneglectedcuticles.Whenhecameintothisroom,helookedliketheoldEvan,thefirstEvan,theEvanIbelievedtobeafullyhumanEvan.

ImissthatEvan,theonewhopulledmefrozenfromtheicepackandthawedmeoutandmademehamburgersandpretendedtobesomethinghewasn’tandhidthethinghewas.

Thecalm,quiet,steady,reliable,strongEvan.NotthisOther-Evan,thetortured,haunted,conflictedEvanwhoclipsoffhissentencesasifhe’safraidhe’llsaytoomuch,theEvanwho’salreadygone,alreadyupthere,twohundredmilesupwithnowaybackdown.NottheirEvan.MyEvan.Theimperfectlyperfectguy.

WhydowealwaysgettheEvanwedeserveinsteadoftheEvanwewant?

22IDON’TKNOWwhyIbotherwritingthis.Noonewilleverreadit—andifyoudo,Evan,Iwillmurderyou.

IsupposeIcouldturntoBear.Itwasalwayseasytotalktohim.Wehadhoursofconversation,goodconversation,duringthoseweekswhenitwasjustmeandhimhidinginthewoods.Bear ’sanexcellentlistener.Heneveryawnsorinterruptsorwalksaway.Neverdisagrees,neverplaysgames,neverlies.Igowhereyougo,always,that’sBear ’sjam.

Bearprovesthattruelovedoesn’thavetobecomplicated—orevenreciprocated.Evan,incaseyou’rereadingthis:I’mdumpingyouforateddybear.NotthatyouandIwereeveracouple.Iwasneveroneofthosegirlswhodaydreamedaboutherweddingdayormeetingtheperfectguy

orraising3.2kidsinthe’burbs.WhenIthoughtaboutthefuture,itusuallyinvolvedabigcityandacareerorlivinginacabinsomewhereleafy,likeVermont,writingbooksandtakinglongwalkswithadogI’dnamePericlesorsomeotherrandomGreeknametoshowpeoplehoweducatedandculturedIwas.OrmaybeI’dbeadoctortreatingsickkidsinAfrica.Somethingmeaningful.Somethingworthwhilethatmaybesomebodysomedaywouldnoticeandthengivemeaplaqueoranawardornameastreetafterme.SullivanAvenue.CassiopeiaWay.Guysdidn’tenterintomydaydreamsmuch.

Incollege,Iwasgoingtohavesex.NotdrunkensexorsexwiththefirstguywhoaskedorsexjusttosayHey,Ihadsexthewaypeopletryexoticfood,like,Hey,Ihadfriedgrasshopper.ItwouldbewithsomeoneIcaredabout.Lovewasn’tnecessary,butmutualrespectandcuriosityandtendernesswouldbenice.AndhewouldalsobesomeoneIfoundattractive.Toomuchsexiswastedonpeoplewhoaren’t.Whywouldyousleepwithsomeonewhodidn’tturnyouon?Butpeopledo.Ortheyusedto.No,theyprobablystilldo.

WhyamIthinkingaboutsex?Okay,that’sinsincere.That’salie.DearGod,Cass,ifyoucan’tbehonestinyourownprivate

journal,wherecanyoube?Insteadofsayingwhat’strue,youmakeinsidejokesandslyreferenceslikeonedayamillionyearsfromnowsomebodywillreadthisandembarrassthehelloutofyou.

Seriously.Atleastwhenheshoweduptonight,heknockedfirst.Evanalwayshadanissuewithboundaries.

Herappedonthedoor,thenenteredinstages:head,shoulders,torso,legs.Stoodthereinthedoorwayforaminute:Isitokay?Inoticedthechangeimmediately:newlyshaven,hairstillwet,wearingafreshpairofjeansandanOhioStateT-shirt.Ican’trememberthelasttime—orreallythefirsttime—IsawEvanexercisehisSecondAmendmentrighttobarearms.

EvanWalkerhasbiceps.It’snotimportanttomentionthisfact,asbicepsaremusclesmostpeoplehave.IjustthoughtI’dmentionit.

Iwaskindofhopingforanaw-shuckslook—I’dseenitoftenenoughintheoldfarmhousebackintheday,whenthatwashisgo-toexpression.Instead,Igotthefurrowedbrowandtheslightlydownturnedmouthandthedark,troubledeyesofapoetcontemplatingthevoid,whichIguesshewas—notapoetbutacontemplatorofthevoid.

Imadeaspaceforhimonthebed.Therewasnowhereelsetosit.Thoughwe’dneverdonethedeed,itfeltlikewewereoldloversforcedintoanawkwardpost-splitnegotiationoverwhogetsthesilverwareandhowthesouvenirsfromalltheirtripstogetheraregoingtobedivviedup.

ThenIsmelledtheRalphLaurenaftershave.Idon’tknowwhyGracekeptastashofmen’sgroomingproducts.Maybetheybelongedtothe

formerownersofthehouseandsheneverbotheredtogetridofthem.Ormaybeshehadsexwithhervictimsbeforechoppingofftheirheadsorrippingouttheirheartsoreatingthemalivelikeablackwidowspider.

He’dnickedhischinshaving;therewasadabofwhitestypticstuffonthecut,atinymarinhisotherwiseotherworldlybeautifulface.Whichwasarelief.Flawlesslybeautifulpeopleannoythehelloutofme.

“Icheckedonthekids,”hesaid,asifI’daskedifhe’dcheckedonthekids.“And?”“They’reokay.Sleeping.”“Who’sonthewatch?”Hestaredatmeforacoupleofuncomfortableseconds.Thenhelookeddownathishands.I

looked,too.HewassoperfectlyputtogetherwhenwemetthatIthoughtI’dluckedintothemostnarcissisticpersonleftontheplanet.Itmakesmefeelmorehuman,hetoldme,meaninggrooming.Later,whenIfoundouthewasn’tquitehuman,IthoughtIunderstoodwhathewasgettingat.Evenlater—andbyevenlaterImeannow—Irealizedcleanlinessisn’tnecessarilynexttogodliness,butitisdamnnearindistinguishablefromhumanness.

“It’llbeokay,”hesaidsoftly.“No,itwon’t,”Ishotback.“BenandDumboaregoingtodie.You’regoingtodie.”“I’mnotgoingtodie.”LeavingoutBenandDumbo.“Howareyougettingoutofthemothershiponceyousetthebombs?”“ThesamewayIgotin.”“Thelasttimeyoutookarideinoneofyourlittlepods,youbrokeseveralbonesandnearlydied.”“It’sahobby,”hesaidwithacrookedsmile.“Nearlydying.”Ilookedawayfromhishands.ThehandsthatliftedmewhenIfell,heldmewhenIwascold,fed

mewhenIwashungry,healedmewhenIwashurt,washedmewhenIwascoveredinforestfilthandblood.You’regoingtodestroyyourentirecivilization,andforwhat?Foragirl.Youwouldthinkasacrificelikethatwouldmakemefeeljustalittlebitspecial.Itdidn’t.Itfeltweird.Likeoneofuswasbatshitcrazyandthatpersonwasn’tme.

Icouldn’tseeasingleromanticelementingenocide,butmaybethat’sjustmylackofinsightintothenatureoflove,havingneverbeeninlove.WouldIwipeouthumanitytosaveEvan?Notlikely.

Ofcourse,there’smorethanonekindoflove.WouldIkilleveryoneintheworldtosaveSam?That’snotaneasyquestiontoanswer.

“Thosetimesyounearlydied,youweresortofprotected,though,right?”Iasked.“Thetechnologythatmadeyousuperhuman—whichyousaidcrashedonthewaytothehotel.Youwon’thavethatthistime.”

Heshrugged.There’stheaw-shucksthingIthoughtImissed.Seeingitagainremindedmehowfarwe’dtraveledfromthefarmhouse,andIfoughttheurgetoslapitoffhisface.

“Whatyou’regoingtodo—itisn’tforme,or...itisn’tjustforme,yougetthat,right?”“There’snootherwaytostopit,Cassie,”hesaid.Slingshottingbacktohistormented-poetlook.“Whataboutthewayyoumentionedrightbeforethelasttimeyoualmostdied?Remember?

RiggingMegan’sthroat-bombtoblowitup.”“Hardtodowithoutthebomb,”hesaid.“Gracedidn’thaveastashhiddeninthehousesomewhere?”Instead,shekepttheplacewell-

stockedwithmen’saftershave.Postapocalypticpriorities.“Grace’sassignmentwasn’ttoblowthingsup.Itwastokillpeople.”“Andhavesexwiththem.”Ididn’tmeanforthattocomeout—butIdon’tmeantosayabout80

percentofwhatIsay.Really,though,whocaresiftheyhadsex?It’sasillythingtoworryaboutwhenthefateofthe

planethangsinthebalance.Trivial.Unimportant.ThehandsthatheldmeholdingGrace.Thebodythatwarmedmewarminghers.Thelipsthattouchedminetouchinghers.Itdoesn’tmatter,Idon’tcare,Graceisdead.IpluckedatthesheetsandwishedIhadn’tsaidit.

“Gracelied.Wenever—”“Idon’tcare,Evan,”Itoldhim.“It’snotimportant.Anyway,Gracewasafantasticallygood-

lookinghomicidalkillingmachine.Whocouldsayno?”Heplacedahandoverminetostillmypluckingfingers.“Iwouldtellyouifwehad.”Whataliar.IcouldfilltheGrandCanyonwithallthethingshe’srefusedtotellme.Ipulledmy

handawayandlookedrightintothosechocolate-fondue-fountaineyes.“You’realiar,”Isaid.Hesurprisedmebynodding.“Iam.Butnotaboutthat.”Iam?“Whathaveyouliedabout?”Heshookhishead.Sillyhumangirl!“AboutwhoIreallywas.”“Andwhoisthatexactly?You’vetoldmewhatyouwere,butyou’veneversaidwhoyouare.Who

areyou,EvanWalker?Wheredoyoucomefrom?Whatdidyoulooklikebeforeyoulookedlikenothing?Whatwasyourplanetlike?Diditlooklikeours?Werethereplantsandtreesandrocksanddidyouliveincitiesandwhatdidyoudoforfunandwastheremusic?Musicisuniversallikemathematics.Canyousingmeasong?Singmeanaliensong,Evan.Tellmewhatitwaslikegrowingup.Didyougotoschoolorwasknowledgejustdownloadedintoyourbrain?Whatwereyourparentslike?Didtheyhavejobslikehumanparents?Brothersandsisters?Sports.Startanywhere.”

“Wehadsports.”Withatiny,indulgentsmile.“Idon’tlikesports.Startwithmusic.”“Wehadmusic,too.”“I’mlistening.”Ifoldedmyarmsovermychestandwaited.Hismouthopened.Hismouthclosed.Icouldn’ttellifhewasabouttolaughorcry.“Itisn’tthat

simple,Cassie.”“I’mnotexpectingperformancequality.Ican’tcarryatune,either,butthatneverkeptmefrom

lightingupalittleBeyoncé.”“Who?”“Oh,comeon.Yougottaknowwhoshewas.”Heshookhishead.Maybehedidn’tgrowuponafarmbutunderarock.ThenIthoughtitwould

bealittleoddforaten-thousand-year-oldsuperbeingtohavehisfingeronthepulseofpopculture.Still,we’retalkingaboutBeyoncé!

He’sevenweirderthanIthought.“Everythingisdifferent.Structurally,Imean.”Hepointedathismouth,stuckouthistongue.“I

can’tevenpronouncemyownname.”Foramoment,thepathoswassothick,italmostsnuffedoutthelamp.

“Thenhumsomething.Orwhistle.Couldyouwhistleordidn’tyouhavelips?”“Noneofthatmattersanymore,Cassie.”“You’rewrong.Itmattersalot.Yourpastiswhatyouare,Evan.”Tearswelledinhiseyes.Itwaslikewatchingchocolatemelt.“God,Cassie,Ihopenot.”Helifted

hisfreshlyscrubbedhands,withtheirtrimmedandbuffednails,towardme.Thehandsthatheldthegunthatslaughteredinnocentpeoplebeforehealmostmurderedme.“Ifthepastiswhatweare...”

Imighthavepointedoutthatwe’vealldonethingswearen’tproudof,butthatwastooflippant.Evenforme.Damnit,Cassie.Whywereyouforcinghimtothinkaboutthat?IwassoobsessedwiththepastI

didn’tknowaboutthatIforgottheoneIdid:Tosavetheoneshehadcometodestroy,EvanWalkertheSilencerwasplanningtosilenceanentirecivilization—hiscivilization—forever.No,BenParish,Ithought.Notforagirl.Forthepasthecan’tescape.Forthesevenbillion.Your

littlesister,too.BeforeIknewwhatwashappeningorevenhowithappened,Iwasholdinghimwithhandsthathad

nevercomfortedhim,neverliftedhimup,neverfoundhimwhenhewaslost.Iwasthetaker,therecipient,always;fromthemomenthepulledmefromthatsnowbank,Ihavebeenhischarge,hismission,hiscross.Cassie’spain,Cassie’sfear,Cassie’sanger,Cassie’sdespair.Thesehavebeenthenailsthatimpaledhim.

Istrokedhisdamphair.Irubbedhisarchedback.Ipressedhissmooth,sweet-smellingfaceintomyneck,andhistearswerewarmagainstmyskin.HewhisperedsomethingthatsoundedlikeMayfly.Heartlessbitchwouldhavebeenmoreaccurate.“I’msorry,Evan,”Iwhispered.“I’msosorry.”Ibowedmyhead;heraisedhis.Ikissedhiswetcheek.Yourpain,yourfear,youranger,your

despair.Givethemtome,Evan.I’llcarrythemforawhile.Hereachedupandranhisfingertipslightlyovermylips,moistwithhistears.“‘ThelastpersononEarth,’”hemurmured.“Doyourememberwhenyouwrotethat?”Inodded.“Stupid.”Heshookhishead.“Ithinkthat’swhatdidit.WhenIreadthat.‘ThelastpersononEarth’—because

Ifeltthesameway.”MyhandsweremaulingthatoldOSUshirt.Itwasverymaulable.That’sagoodword,maulable.It

appliestosomanythings.“You’renotcomingback,”Isaid,becausehecouldn’tsayit.Hisfingerscombedthroughmyhair.Ishivered.Don’tdothat,youbastard.Don’ttouchmelike

you’llnevertouchmeagain.Don’tlookatmelikeyou’llneverseemeagain.Ishutmyeyes.Ourlipstouched.ThelastpersononEarth.Withmyeyesclosed,Icouldseeherwalkingdownawoodedpathin

Vermont,aplaceshehasneverbeenandwillnevergo,andtheleavesthatembracethetrailsingariasofbrightredandgold.AndthereisabigdognamedPericlesrunningaheadofherinthatself-importantwayofdogs,andshehaseverythingsheeverwanted,thisgirl—no,thiswoman—nothingleftbehind,nothingleftundone.Shetraveledtheworldandwrotebooksandtookloversandbroke

hearts.Shedidn’tallowlifejusttohappentoher.Shepunchedandpummeledandbeatthelivingshitoutofit.Shemauledit.

Hisbreathhotinmyear.I’mclawingathischest,diggingmynailsintohisskin,thehungrylionesswithhercatch.Resistanceisfutile,Walker.I’llnevertakethatpathinthegoldenwoodsorownadognamedPericlesortraveltheworld.There’llbenorecognitionofalifewell-lived,nostreetnamedafterme,nodifferenceintheworldbecauseIonceoccupiedit.Mylifeisacatalogoftheundoneandthenever-will-be-done.TheOthersstoleallofmyunmadememories,butIwon’tletthemstealthisone.

Myhandsroamedhisbody,anundiscoveredcountry,whichhenceforthIshallcallEvanland.Hillsandvalleys,desertplainsandforestglens,thelandscapepockmarkedwiththescarsofbattle,crisscrossedbyfaultlinesandunexpectedvistas.AndIamCassietheConquistador:ThemoreterritoryIconquer,themoreIwant.

Hischestheaved:asubterraneanquakethatrosetothesurfacelikeatsunamicwave.Hiseyeswerewideandwetandfilledwithsomethingthatcloselyresembledfear.

“Cassie...”“Shutup.”Mymouthsurveyingthevalleybeneathhisrollingchest.Hisfingersentanglednowinmyhair.“Weshouldn’t.”Ialmostlaughed.Well,theshouldn’tlistisawfullylong,Evan.Iscoredmyteethacrosshis

stomach.Thelandbeneathmytonguequivered,shockandaftershock.Shouldn’t.No,weprobablyshouldn’t.Somecravingscanneverbesatisfied.Somediscoveries

demeanthequest.“Notthetime...,”hegasped.Irestedmycheekonhistummyandtuggedthehairfrommyeyes.“Whenisthetime,Evan?”Hishandscapturedmyrovingonesandheldthemstill.“Yousaidyoulovedme,”Iwhispered.Damnyou,EvanWalker,whydidyoueversaysucha

ridiculous,crazy,imbecilicthing?Noonetellsyouhowcloserageistolust.Imean,thespacebetweenmoleculesisthicker.“You’re

aliar,”Itoldhim.“You’retheworstkindofliar,thekindwholiestothemselves.You’renotinlovewithme.You’reinlovewithanidea.”

Hiseyescutaway.That’showIknewInailedhim.“Whatidea?”heasked.“Liar,youknowwhatidea.”Igotup.Ipulledoffmyshirt.Istaredhimdown,daringhimtolook

atme.Lookatme,Evan.Lookatme.NotthelastpersononEarth,thestand-inforallthepeopleyoushotonthehighway.I’mnotthemayfly;I’mCassie,anordinarygirlfromanordinaryplacewhowasdumbenoughorunluckyenoughtolivelongenoughforyoutofind.Iamnotyourcharge,yourmission,oryourcross.

Iamnothumanity.Heturnedhisfacetowardthewall,handsbesidehisheadasifinsurrender.Well.I’dgonethisfar.

Ituggedthejeansovermyhipsandkickedthemaway.Icouldn’trememberatimewhenIwasthisangry—orthissad—orthis...Iwantedtopunchhim,caresshim,kickhim,holdhim.Iwantedhimtodie.Iwantedmetodie.Iwasn’tself-conscious,notatall,anditwasn’tbecausehe’dseenmenakedbefore—hehad.

ThattimeIdidn’thaveachoice.ThenI’dbeenunconscious,closetodeath.NowIwasawakeandverymuchalive.

Iwishedtherewereahundredlampstolightmeup.Iwantedaspotlightandamagnifyingglasssohecouldexamineeveryimperfectlyperfecthumaninchofme.

“It’snotaboutthetime,Evan,”Iremindedhim,“butwhatwedowithit.”

23RINGER

ATTHIRTY-FIVETHOUSANDFEET,it’shardtotellwhichseemssmaller:theEarthbeloworthepersonaboveit,lookingdown.

Duenorthandacoupleofmilesfromthecaverns,Constanceunbucklesherharnessandgrabsherchuteassemblyfromtheoverhead.Onelastcheck-throughbeforethejump.We’llbeinsertedfromthisaltitudetoreducethechanceofbeingspottedfromtheground.It’scalledaHALOinsertion.HighAltitude—LowOpening.Riskyashell,butnomoreriskythanjumpingfromfivethousandfeetwithnoparachuteatall.

Constancemustknowaboutmyjumpfromthedoomedchopper,becauseshesays,“Gonnabealoteasierthanlasttime,huh?”

Itellhertofuckoff,andshegrinsatme.I’mglad.Iwanttofindnothingsympatheticorlikableabouther.Thosethingsmightmakekillingherhard.

Well,harder.I’mstillgoingtokillher.“Thirtyseconds!”thepilot’svoicesquawksinourears.Constancechecksmyassembly.Icheck

hers.Wetossourheadsetsontotheseatsastherearbaydooropens.Slidingourglovedfingersovertheguidecable,weshuffletowardthescreamingmaw,thesubzerowindlikeafistpummelingourfaces.MystomachtightensastheC-160rockssidetoside,buffetedbyturbulence.I’vebeenfightingtheurgetothrowupfornearlytheentireflight.Bettertodoitnowthaninfreefall.IfIpositionmyselfcorrectly,thevomitwilllanddirectlyinConstance’sface.

Iwonderwhythehubdoesn’tsubduemydigestivesystem;weird,butIfeelletdownbyatrustedfriend.

IfollowConstanceintotheblackgulletofamoonlessnight.Wewon’tdeploythechutesuntilwellafterwe’vereachedterminalvelocity.Icanseeherclearlywithmyenhancedvision,fiftyfeetfartherdownandofftomyleft.Timeslowsasmyspeedpicksup;I’mnotsureifthat’sthehub’sdoingoranaturalreactiontofallingat120milesperhour.Idon’theartheplane.Theworldiswind.

Twentythousandfeet.Fifteen.Ten.Icanmakeoutahighway,rollingfields,clustersofbare-limbedtrees.ThecloserIget,thefastertheyseemtorushtowardme.Fivethousandfeet.Four.Minimumdistancetogroundforasafedeploymentiseighthundredfeet,butthat’spushingtheenvelope.

Constancepullshercordateight-fifty.I’malittlebelowthat,andthegroundroarstowardmelikethefaceofarunawaylocomotive.

Ibendmykneesonimpactandduckmyshouldertowardtheground,rollingtwicebeforestoppingflatonmyback,tangledincords.ConstanceistherebeforeIcantakemynextbreath,slicing

mefreewithhercombatknife.Sheyanksmetomyfeet,givesmeathumbs-up,andthentakesoffacrossthefieldtowardacoupleofsilosthatstandnexttotheubiquitousredbarnand,astone’sthrowaway,thewhitefarmhouse.

Whitehouse,redbarn,anarrowcountrylane:Wecouldn’thavefallenintoamorequintessentialsliceofAmericana.Thenameofthehamletwherethecavernsare?WestLiberty.

Ijoinheratthebaseofasilo,whereshe’sbusystrippingoffherjumpsuit.Beneathit,she’swearingmomjeansandahoodie.Shehasnoweaponexcepttheknife,whichshetucksintoasheathstrappedtoherleg.

“Halfaclicksouthandwestofourposition,”shebreathes.Theentrancetothecaverns.“We’reacoupleofhoursaheadofthem.”ZombieandwhoeverwascrazyenoughtocomewithhimtolookformeandTeacup.Poundcake,probably.MyguttightensatthethoughtoftellingZombieaboutTeacup.“Youhanghereandwaitformysignal.”

Ishakemyhead.“I’mcomingwithyou.”Sheflashesthatgoddamnedstupidsmile.“Honey,youdon’twanttodothat.”“Why?”“Ourcoverstorywon’tflyifthere’sanyonearoundtocontradictit.”Thevisearoundmystomachtightensanotherturn.Survivors.Constanceisgoingtokilleveryone

shefindshidinginthosecaves,andthat’sprobablyalotofpeople.Dozens,maybehundreds.Itwillbetoughwork.They’llbewell-armedandwaryofstrangers—it’shardtoimaginethatanyone’sunawareofthe4thWavethislateinthegame.WhichmeansImightnothavetokillConstanceafterall.Maybethey’lldoitforme.

It’sapleasantthought.Unrealistic,butpleasant.Mynextthoughtisnotpleasantatall,soIblurtoutthefirstthingthatpopsintomyhead.

“Wedon’tneedtotakethecaverns.WecaninterceptZombiebeforehegetsthere.”Constanceshakesherhead.“Notourorders.”“OurordersaretorendezvouswithZombie,”Iargue.I’mnotlettingthisgo.IfIletitgo,innocent

peoplewilldie.I’mnottotallyagainstpeopledying—IamplanningtokillherandEvanWalker—butthisisavoidable.

“Iknowitbothersyou,Marika,”shesayskindly.“That’swhyI’mgoinginsolo.”“It’sastupidrisk.”“You’vereachedaconclusionwithoutknowingallthefacts,”shescoldsme.That’sbeenaproblemfromthebeginning—asinthebeginningofhumanhistory.Myhanddropstothebuttofmysidearm.Shedoesn’tmissit.Heransweringsmilelightsupthe

night.“Youknowwhathappensifyoudothat,”shesaysgently,akindlyaunt,acaringbigsister.“Your

friends—theonesyou’vecomebackfor—howmanylivesaretheirlivesworth?Ifahundredhadtodiesotheycouldlive,orathousand,ortenthousand,ortenmillion...Whenwouldyousayenough?”

Iknowthisargument.It’sVosch’s.It’stheirs.Whataresevenbillionliveswhenexistenceitselfisatstake?Mythroatburns.Icantastestomachacidinmymouth.

“It’safalsechoice,”Ianswer.Onelasttry,aplea:“Youdon’thavetokillanyonetogetWalker.”Sheshrugs.Apparently,I’mjustnotgettingit.“IfIdon’t,neitherofusisgoingtolivelong

enoughtohavethatchance.”Sheliftsherchinandturnsherfaceslightlyaway.“Hitme.”Tapsherrightcheek.“Here.”

Whynot?Theblowrocksherbackonherheels.Sheshakesherheadimpatiently,turnstheothercheek.“Again.Harderthistime,Marika.Hard.”

Ihitherharder.Hardenoughtobreakbone.Herlefteyeimmediatelybeginstoswell.Shefeelsnopainfromthepunch.NeitherdoI.

“Thanks,”shesaysbrightly.“Noproblem.Anythingelseyouneedbusted,letmeknow.”Shelaughssoftly.IfIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dswearshelikesme,findsmecharming.Thenshe’s

gonesoquicklythatonlyenhancedvisionlikeminecouldfollowher,zippingacrossthefieldtotheroadthatleadstothecaverns,thencuttingintothewoodsonthenorthwestside.

Assoonasshe’soutofsight,Isinktotheground,shaky,light-headed,mygutchurning.I’mbeginningtowonderifsomethingiswrongwiththe12thSystem.Ifeellikeshit.

Ileanagainstthecoldmetalofthesiloandclosemyeyes.Thedarknessbehindmylidsspinsaroundaninvisiblecenter,thesingularitybeforetheuniversewasborn.Teacupisthere,fallingawayfromme;theblastfromRazor ’sweaponresoundsintimelessspace.Shefallsaway,butshewillalwaysbemine.

Razoristhere,too,intheabsolutecenterofabsolutenothing,thebloodstillfreshonhisarmfromtheself-inflictedwound,VQP,andheknewthecostofsacrificingTeacupwouldbehisownlife.I’mcertainbythetimewespentthenighttogether,he’dalreadydecidedtokillher—becausekillingherwastheonlywaytosetmefree.Freemetodowhat,Razor?EnduresoIcanconquerwhat?Withmyeyesstillclosed,Ipullthecombatknifefromthesheathstrappedtomycalf.Ican

imagineRazorlingeringinthedoorwaytothewarehouse;thegoldenlightfromthepyreoutsidewashingoverhisleanfeatures;hiseyeslostinshadowasherollsuphissleeve.Theknifeinhishandthen.Theknifeinmyhandnow.Heprobablywincedwhenthetipbroketheskin.Idonot.

Ifeelnothing.Iamcocoonedinnothingness,theanswer,afterall,toVosch’sriddleofwhy?IcansmellRazor ’sblood.Ican’tsmellmine,becausenonebreaksthesurfaceofthewound;thousandsofmicroscopicdronesstanchtheflow.V:Howdoyouconquertheunconquerable?Q:Whocanwinwhennoonecanendure?P:Whatendureswhenallhopeisgone?Outofthesingularity,avoicecriesout.“Mydearchild,whydoyoucry?”Iopenmyeyes.It’sapriest.

24ATLEAST,he’sdressedlikeone.

Blackpants.Blackshirt.Whitecollar,yellowedbysweat,spottedwithrust-coloredstains.He’sstandingjustoutsidemyreach,asmallguywitharecedinghairlineandapudgy,babyishface.Heseesthewetknifeinmyhandandimmediatelyraiseshis.

“Iamnotarmed.”Hisvoiceishigh-pitched,aschildlikeashisfeatures.Idroptheknifeanddrawmysidearm.“Handsontopofyourhead.Kneel.”Heobeysinstantly.Iglancetowardtheroad.WhathappenedtoConstance?“Ididn’tmeantostartleyou,”thelittleguysays.“It’sjustthatIhaven’tseenanotherpersonin

months.You’rewiththemilitary,yes?”“Shutup,”Itellhim.“Don’ttalk.”“Ofcourse!I—sorry.”Hismouthclampsshut.Hischeeksareflushedwithfearormaybe

embarrassment.Istepbehindhim.HeremainsverystillwhileIrunmyfreehandoverhistorso.“Wheredidyoucomefrom?”Iask.“Pennsylvania—”“No.Wheredidyoucomefromjustnow?”“I’vebeenlivinginthecaves.”“Withwho?”“Noone!Itoldyou,Ihaven’tseenanyoneinmonths.SinceNovember...”Ahardmetalobjectinhisright-handpocket.Ifishitout.Acrucifix.It’sseenbetterdays.The

cheapgoldfinishischipped;thefaceofChristhasbeenworndowntoabaldnub.IthinkofSullivan’sCrucifixSoldiercoweringbehindthebeercoolers.

“Please,”hewhimpers.“Don’ttakethat.”Itossthecrucifixintothetall,deadgrassbetweenthesilosandthebarn.Wherethehellis

Constance?Howdidthisdweebylittleguyslippasther?Moreimportant,howdidIletthisdweebylittleguysneakuponme?

“Where’syourcoat?”Iaskhim.“Coat?”Istepinfrontofhimandlevelthegunathisforehead.“It’sfreezing.Aren’tyoucold?”“Oh.Oh!”Hehiccupsanervouslaugh.Histeethmatchtherestofhim:smallandscruffywith

grime.“Icompletelyforgottograbit.IwassoexcitedwhenIheardthatplane—Ithoughtrescuehadfinallyarrived!”Thesmiledies.“Youareheretorescueme,aren’tyou?”

Myfingertwitchesonthetrigger.Sometimesyou’reinthewrongplaceatthewrongtimeandwhathappensisnobody’sfault,ItoldSullivanafterhearingthestoryofthesoldier.

“Howoldareyou,mayIask?”heasks.“Youseemmuchtooyoungtobesoldier.”“I’mnotasoldier,”Itellhim.AndI’mnot.

Iamthenextstepinhumanevolution.Ianswertruthfully,“IamaSilencer.”

25HESPRINGSTOWARDME,anexplosionofpalepinkandblack.Aflashoftinyteeth,andthegunfliesfrommyhand.Theblowbreaksmywrist.Thenextpunch,flyingfasterthanevenmyenhancedeyescanfollow,hurlsmesixfeetstraightbackintothesilo.Themetalscreeches,foldsaroundmybodylikeataco.NowConstance’swordscomehome:You’vereachedaconclusionwithoutknowingallthefacts.

Shewasn’tgoingintothosecavestoneutralizesurvivors.ShewasgoingintosilenceaSilencer.Thanks,Connie.Youmighthavetoldme.ThefactthatIdon’tdieonimpactsavesmylife.Thephonypriestpauses,cockinghisheadatme

inaweird,birdlikeway.Ishouldbedeadoratleastunconscious.HowisitthatI’mstillstanding?“My!Thisis...curious.”Neitherofusmovesforseveralseconds.I’vethrownoffhisgame.Stall,Ringer.Waitfor

Constancetocomeback.IfConstancecomesback.Constancemaybedead.“I’mnotoneofyou,”Isay,pullingfreeofthemetalnook.“Voschgavemethe12thSystem.”Hisbemusedexpressiondoesn’tchange,buthisshoulderstense.Itistheonlyexplanationthat

makessense,yetitmakesnosense.“Curiouserandcuriouser!”hemurmurs.“Whywouldthecommanderenhanceahuman?”Timetolie.Theenemytaughtmethatgreatthingscanbeaccomplishedbythesmallestoflies.“He’sturnedonyou.He’sgiventhe12thSystemtoallofus.”Heshakeshisheadandsmiles.HeknowsI’mfullofshit.“Andwe’recomingforallofyounow,”Igoon.“Beforethepodscanbringyoutotheship.”Myrifleliesonthegroundayardfromhisfoot.Idon’tknowwheremysidearmendedup.The

knifeisveryclose,lyingabouthalfwaybetweenus.He’llexpectmetogofortheknife.Okay,sotheliedoesn’tseemtobeworking.I’lltrythetruth,butmyhopesaren’thigh.“I’m

probablywastingmybreathhere,butyoushouldknowthatyou’reashumanasIam.You’rebeingused,justlikethey’reusingeveryoneelse.Everythingyouthinkyouknowaboutwhoyouare,everythingyouremember,isalie.Everything.”

Henods,smilingatmethewayyousmileatacrazyperson.That’syourcue,Constance.Jumpoutoftheshadowsandplungeyourknifeintohisback.ButConstancemissesherentrance.

“I’mreallyataloss,”hesays.“WhatshouldIdowithyou?”“Idon’tknow,”Ianswerhonestly.“WhatIdoknowisI’mgoingtotakethatknifeandbleedyou

outlikeapig.”Idon’tlookattheknife.IknowifIlook,Iwon’tstandachance—he’llseethroughtheruse

instantly.Bynotlooking,Iforcehimtolook.Heglancesdownonlyforasecond,butasecondis

longerthanIneed.Thetipofmysteel-toedbootcatcheshimunderthechinandhislittlebodyfliestenfeetbefore

thumpingdownhard.Beforehecangethisfeetbeneathhim,theknifeleavesmyhandandrocketstowardhisthroat;hebatsitintotheair,thencatchestheknifeonitsdescent,amovesowickedlygraceful,Ican’thelpbutadmireit.

Idivefortherifle.Hebeatsmetoit.HisfistslamsintomytempleandIfall.Mymouthsmackstheground;myupperlipsplitsopen.Hereitcomes.Nowhe’llslitmythroat.He’llpickuptherifleandblowmybrainsout.I’mapiker,anamateur,anewbiestilladjustingtotheaugmentationhe’slivedwithsincehewasthirteen.

Hetwistsafistfulofmyhairintohishandandflingsmeontomyback.Bloodfillingmymouth,Igag.Hetowersoverme,allfivefeetthreeofhim,knifeinonehand,rifleintheother.

“Whoareyou?”Ispitthebloodfrommymouth.“MynameisRinger.”“Whereareyoufrom?”“Well,IwasborninSanFrancisco—”Hekicksmeintheribs.Notfullforce.Fullforcewouldhavepuncturedalungorburstmyspleen.

Hedoesn’twanttokillme—notyet.“Whyareyouhere?”Ilookintohiseyesandanswer,“Tokillyou.”Heflingstherifleaway.Itsailsahundredyards,archingovertheroadintothefieldbeyond.He

seizesmebythethroatandhaulsmeintotheair.Mytoesleavetheground.Hisheadturns:thecuriouscrow,thealertowl.

Againstthenextattackthereisnodefense.Hisconsciousnesslancesintome,asavagethrustthatripsintomymindwithsuchforcethatmyautonomicsystemshutsdown.Iamplungedintodarknessabsolute.Nosound,nosight,nosensation.Hismindchewsthroughmine,andwhatIfeelinhimisahatredwiderthantheuniverse,purerageandutterdisgustand,weirdasitsounds,envy.

“Ahhhh,”hesighs.“Whodoyouseek?Nottheoneswhowerelost.Alittlegirl,asad,soulfulboy.Theydiedthatyoumightlive.Yes?Yes.Oh,howlonelyyouare.Howempty!”

I’mholdingTeacupagainstmeintheoldhotel,fightingtokeepherwarm.Razorisholdingmeinthebowelsofthebase,fightingtokeepmealive.It’sacircle,Zombie,boundbyfear.

“Butthereisanother,”thepriestmurmurs.“Hmmm.Doyouknow?Haveyoudiscoveredityet?”Hissoftchuckleiscutshort.Iknowwhy.There’snoguessing:Weareone.He’sdredgedup

Constanceandthatstupid,vapidsoccer-momsmile.Heflingsmeawaylikeheflungtherifle—disdainfully,auselesspieceofhuman-madegarbage.

Thehubpreparesmybodyforimpact.There’splentyoftimeforthatwhileIsailthroughtheair.Ismashintotherottenporchrailingofthewhitefarmhouse.Thewoodexplodeswithaloud

wallopastheoldboardscrackbeneathme.Iliestill.Theworldspins.Worsethanthephysicalbeating,though,wasthepummelingofmymind.Ican’tthink.

Fragmented,disconnectedimagesexplodeintobeing,fade,bloomagain.Zombie’ssmile.Razor ’seyes.Teacup’sscowl.ThenVosch’sface,cutfromstone,massiveasamountain,andtheeyesthatpiercetotheverybottom,thatseeeverything,thatknowme.

Irollontomyside.Mystomachheaves.Ithrowupontheporchstepsuntilthere’snothingleftinmystomach,andthenIthrowupsomemore.Youhavetogetup,Ringer.Ifyoudon’tgetup,Zombie’slost.Itrytostand.Ifall.

Itrytositup.Ikeelover.TheSilencerpriestfelttheminsideme—Ithoughttheyweregone,IthoughtIhadlostthem,but

youneverlosethosewholoveyou,becauseloveisaconstant;loveendures.Someone’sarmsareliftingmeup:Razor ’s.Someone’shandssteadyme:Teacup’s.Someone’ssmileisgivingmehope:Zombie’s.IshouldhavetoldhimwhenIhadthechancehowmuchIlovethewayhesmiles.Irise.Razorlifting,Teacupsteadying,Zombiesmiling.Youknowwhatyoudowhenyoucan’tstandupandmarch,soldier?Voschasks.Youcrawl.

26ZOMBIE

NORTHOFURBANA,theoldhighwaycutsthroughfarmcountry,thefallowfieldsoneithersideglowingsilver-grayinthebrilliantstarlight,theburned-outshellsofthefarmhousesblackfrecklesagainstthesheen.Thecavernslieninemilesasthecrowfliestothenortheast,butI’mnocrow;I’mnotleavingthishighwayandriskinggettinglost.IfIkeepupthepacewithoutstoppingtorest,Ishouldreachthetargetbeforedawn.

That’llbetheeasypart.Superhumanassassinswhocanlooklikeanyone—forexample,asweet,hymn-singingsenior

citizen.Littlekidswhowandernearencampmentsandhideoutswithbombsembeddedintheirthroats.Doesn’texactlyencouragehospitalitytostrangers.

There’llbesentries,hiddenbunkers,snipers’nests,maybeaviciousGermanshepherdoraDobermanortwo,tripwires,boobytraps.Theenemyhasblownapartthefundamentalgluethatbindsustogether,turningeveryoutsiderintotheintolerableother.That’sfunny,thesicktypeoffunny:Afterthealiensarrived,webecamealiens.

Whichmeanstheoddsofthemshootingmeonsightareprettyhigh.Likeinthe99.9percentneighborhood.

Oh,well.YOLO,right?I’velookedatthelittlemapprintedonthebackofthebrochuresomanytimes,it’sburnedintomy

memorylikeanafterimage.US68northtoSR507.SR507easttoSR245.Thenahalfmilenorthandyou’rethere.Easy-peasy,noproblemo.Threetofourhoursquick-steppingonanemptystomachwithnorestorsleepandsunrisecoming.

I’llneedtimetoreconnoiter.Ihavenotime.I’llneedagameplanofhowtoapproachahostilesentry.Ihavenoplan.I’llneedtherightwordstoconvincethemI’moneofthegoodguys.Ihavenowords.AllI’vegotismywinningpersonalityandakillersmile.

Atthecornerof507and245there’sawaist-highsignwithabigrust-coloredarrowpointingnorth:OHIOCAVERNS.Thegroundrises;theroadarchestowardthestars.Iadjustmyeyepieceandscanthewoodsontheleftforgreenglow.Idroptomybellyshyofthehillcrestandcrawltherestofthewaytothetop.Apavedaccessroadwindsthroughmoretreestowardaclusterofbuildings,tinyblacksmudgesagainstgray.Fiftyyardsawayaretwostonemarkerswithwhitesignsmountedontopofeach:OC.

Iinchforwardthewayweweretaughtincamp,low-crawl-style:faceinthedirt,rifleinonehand,theotherextendedforward.Atthispace,Iwon’treachthecavernsuntilwellaftermytwenty-firstbirthday,butthat’spreferabletonotbeingalivetocelebrateit.EveryfewfeetIpausetoliftmyhead

andscantheterrain.Trees.Grass.Asnarlofdownedpowerlines.Trash.Asingle,tinytennisshoelyingonitsside.

Afteranotherhundredyards—andahundredyearslater—myoutstretchedfingersbrushmetal.Idon’tliftmyhead;Idragtheobjectinfrontofmyface.

Acrucifix.Achillgoesdownmyspine.Ididn’thavetimetothink,Sullivantoldme.Isawthelightglinting

offthemetal.Ithoughtitwasagun.SoIkilledhim.Overacrucifix,Ikilledhim.Iwishshe’dnevertoldmethatstory.IfIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dconsiderfindingarandomcrucifix

inthedirttobeagoodsign.Imightevenhangontoitforluck.Instead,itfeelslikeabigblackcatcrossingmypath.IleaveJesuslyinginthedirt.Scooch,scooch,pause.Look.Scooch,scooch,pause.Look.Icanseebuildingsnow,agiftshopand

welcomecenter,theremnantsofastonewell.Beyondthebuildings,weavingbetweenthetree-shapedgashesinthedark,isathumbnail-sized,fierygreenbloboflightheadedstraighttowardme.

Ifreeze.I’mtotallyexposed.Noplacetotakecover.Theblobgrowslarger,edgingalongthefrontofthewelcomecenternow.IrisetomyelbowsandsighthimthroughthescopeoftheM16.He’ssuchalittleguythatatfirstIthinkhe’sakid.

Blackpants,blackshirt,andacollarthatinbetterdayswaswhite.LookslikeI’vefoundtheownerofthecrucifix.Ishouldprobablyshoothimbeforeheseesme.Oh,howstupid.Whatadumbidea.Shoothimandyou’llhavethewholeencampmentonyourass.

Fireonlyifyou’refiredupon.You’reheretosavepeople,remember?Themaninblackwiththegreenblobbyheaddisappearsaroundthecornerofthebuilding.Icount

theseconds.WhenIreach120andhehasn’treappeared,Ihigh-crawlittothenearesttree,whereIbrushthedeadgrassanddirtfrommyfaceandtrytocollectmybreathandmythoughts,inthatorder.Idobetteronthebreathpart.

I’mgettingnowwhyVoschpassedoverRingertopromotemetosquadleader.Shewasdefinitelythewiserchoice:smarterthanme,abettershot,sharperinstincts.ButIgotthenodinsteadbecauseIhadonethingthatshedidn’t:blindloyaltytothecause,andunflinchingfaithinitsleader.Okay,that’sactuallytwothings.Whatever.Mypointisthatfaithtrumpssmartseverytime.Gutsbeatbrains.Atleastthat’strueifyouwantanarmyofmisguided,suicidalbuffoonswillingtosacrificetheirlivessotheenemydoesn’thaveto.

Can’thidehereforever.AndIdidn’tleaveDumbobehindsohecoulddiewhileIhidwithmythumbupmyasswaitingforanideatospringforthinthisCro-MagnonbrainI’vebeenblessedwith.

WhatIreallyneed,Idecide,isahostage.Ofcourse,thatideacomesfiveminutesaftertheperfectcandidatedisappears.Ipeekaroundthetreetowardthewelcomecenter.Nothing.Ihaulasstotheclosesttree,stop,drop,

peek.Nothing.Twotreeslaterandaboutfiftyyardscloser,Istilldon’tseehim.Heprobablyjustfoundaprivateplacetotakealeak.Orhe’salreadybelow,safeandwarmandtellingRingerall’scleartopsidewhilehegentlyrocksTeacuptosleep.

I’vebeenhavingfantasiesaboutthesecavessinceRingerleft,minusthepriest,inwhichsheandTeacupstaywarmanddryandwell-fedthroughoutthisendlessgoddamnedwinter.IthinkaboutwhatI’llsaywhenIfinallyseeher.Whatshe’llsaytome.Howtheperfectlydroppedphrasemightfinallymakehersmile.There’sapartofmethat’sconvincedthiseverlastingwarwillendwhenIcoaxasmileoutofthatgirl.

Okay,Idecide,forgetthepriest.Thatwelcomecenterhastobemanned.Imightendupwithhalfadozenhostagesinsteadofone,butbeggarscan’tbechoosers.IneedtogetintothosecavesASAP.

Iscantheterrain,plotmyroute,mentallyrehearsetheassault.Ihaveoneflashgrenadeleft.Ihavetheelementofsurprise.Surpriseisgood.IhavemyrifleandDumbo’ssidearm.Probablywillnotbeenough.I’llbeoutgunned,whichmeansIwilldie.WhichmeansDumbowilldie.

There’sasinglewindowfacingme.I’llsmashitwiththebuttofmyrifle,tossthegrenade,andthenhoofitaroundthebuildingtothefrontdoor.Sixseconds,tops.Theywon’tknowwhathitthem.

That’llbemystory,anyway,whenItellmygrandkidsaboutthisday:Iwassofocusedonthewindow,IforgottolookwhereIwasgoing.

IwishIhadanotherexplanationforhowIfellintothatdamnhole,sixfeetwideandtwiceasdeep,aholeyoucouldn’tmiss,eveninthedark,notonlybecauseofitssizebutbecauseofwhatitcontained.

Bodies.Hundredsofbodies.Bigbodies,littlebodies,medium-sizedbodies.Clothedbodies,half-clothedbodies,nakedbodies.

Freshlydeadbodiesandbodiesnot-so-freshlydead.Wholebodiesandbodypartsandpartsthatusedtobeinsidebodiesbutnolongerwere.

Iwentdowntomyhipsintotheslimy,reekingmass,andmyfeetfoundnobottom—Ijustkept...sinking.Nothingtograbholdofexceptbodies,whichsliddownwithme.Icameface-to-facewithafreshoneasIsank—likeareallyfreshone,awomaninherthirties,herblondhaircakedindirtandblood,twoblackeyes,onecheekswollentothesizeofmyfist,herskinstillpink,herlipsplump.Shecouldn’thavebeenmorethanafewhoursdead.

Itwistaway.I’dratherfaceadozenrottedfacesthanonethatlooksthatalive.I’mshoulder-deepbythispointandstillbeingsuckedunder.I’mgoingtobesuffocatedbyhuman

remains.I’mgoingtodrownindeath.It’ssoridiculouslymetaphorical,Inearlybustoutlaughing.That’swhenthefingerslockaroundmyneck.Thenherdefinitely-not-corpse-coldlipsagainstmyear:“Don’tmakeasound,Ben.Playdead.”Ben?Itrytoturnmyhead.Noway.Hergripistoostrong.“We’vegotoneshot,”thevoicewhispers.“Sodon’tmove.Itknowswherewearenowandit’s

coming.”

27ASHADOWRISESatthepit’sedge,silhouettedagainsttheblazeofstarsoverhead,asmallfigure,itsheadcockedtooneside,listening.Idon’teventhinkaboutit:Iholdmybreathandgolimp,watchinghimthroughslittedlids.He’sholdingafamiliar-lookingobjectinhisrighthand.AKA-BARcombatknife,standardissuetoallrecruits.

Thewoman’sfingersloosenonmythroat.She’sgonelimp,too.WhodoItrust?Her,him,neither?

Thirtysecondspass,aminute,pushingtwo.Idon’tmove.Shedoesn’tmove.Hedoesn’tmove.Iwon’tbeabletoholdmybreath—orputoffthedecision—muchlonger.I’llhavetotakeeitherabreathorashot—atsomebody.Butmyarmsareentangledwithdeadones,andanyway,IlosttheriflewhenIfell.Idon’tevenknowwhereitlanded.

Hedoes,though,thepriestwhotradedhiscrucifixforaknife.“Iseeyourrifle,son,”hesays.“Comeonup.There’snothingtofear.They’realldeadandI’mcompletelyharmless.”Hekneelsattheedgeoftheossuaryandholdsouthisemptyhand.“Don’tworry,youcanhaveyourrifleback.Idon’tlikeguns.Ineverhave.”

Hesmiles.Thenthenot-deadlady’sgothimbythewrist.Thenhe’sflyingintothepitwithusandthenthere’sDumbo’ssidearmagainsthistempleandhervoicesaying,“Thenyou’regonnahatethis,”andthenthepriest’sheadexplodes.

Notsure,butIthinkthat’smycuetogetthehelloutofthathole.

28I’VELOSTMYRIFLE.Andsomehowthenot-deadladyendedupwiththepistol.IhavenoideaifshesavedmylifeorjuststartedwiththepriestandI’mnext.

Pushingandclawingyourwayoutofamassgravewasn’tsomethingtheycoveredincamp.Becauseundernormalcircumstances,ifyoufindyourselfneck-deepindeadpeople,theoddsareyou’reprobablyoneyourself.

“I’mnotgoingtohurtyou,”shesays.Shesmilesbroadly,andthat’sgottahurtwithabrokencheek.

“Thendropthegun.”Shedoes,immediately.Sheholdsupheremptyhands.“Howdoyouknowmyname?”Iask.Moreofashout,really.“Marikatoldme.”“WhothehellisMarika?”Iscoopupthepistol.Shemakesnomovetostopme.“Thegirlstandingbehindyou.”Ipivotquicklytotheleft,keepingherinmyperipheralvision.There’snobodybehindme.“Look,lady,I’mhavingareallybadday.Whoareyouandwhowasthatlittleguyyoujustkilled

andwhereisTeacup?Where’sRinger?”“Itoldyou,Zombie.”Withatrillinglittlelaugh.“She’sbehindyou.”Iraisetheguntothelevelofhereyes.I’mnotscaredorconfusedanymore.I’mjustpissed.Idon’t

knowifshe’stheSilencerofthecavernsandIreallydon’tcare.I’mkillingeverystrangerinmypathuntilIfindsomebodywhoisn’tone.

Iknowwhat’swhat.JesusChrist,ofcourseIknow.IknewitbeforeIleftthesafehouse.It’sallbeenfornothing,nothing.Dumbo’sgoingtodiefornothing,becauseRingerisnothing.She’slyinginthattangleofbodies,araven-haired,smile-lessnothing,alongwithTeacup,bothofthemnothing,likethesevenbillionothernothingsbusybreakingdownintorandommoleculesofnothing.AndI’mgoingtohelp.I’mgoingtodomypart.I’mgoingtomurdereverydumbassstupidbastardwho’sunluckyenoughtocrossmypath.

Theywantedamindless,stone-coldkillertoletlooseontheworld.Theywantedazombie.Nowthey’vegotone.

Itakeaimatthatsilly,smiling,busted-upfaceandsqueezethetrigger.

29RINGER

I’MPROBABLYgoingtoregretthis.KeepingConstancearoundislikefindingaviperinbedwithyourkids.Goingafteritrisks

hurtingthekidsmorethanthesnake.SoIalmostletZombiedoit.Itwastempting.Butamillisecondbeforethebulletexitsthebarrel,I

rammyopenpalmintohiselbow,throwingofftheshot.Hisgunisinmyhandbythetimethereportsounds.

Hewhirlsaround,hishandballedintoafist,whichisaimedatmyhead.Icatchit.Zombie’sshoulderjerksonimpact—asifhe’spunchedabrickwall—andthenhismouthdrops

openandhiseyesgrowwidewithastonishmentanddisbelief,areactionsoclichédandpredictable,healmostdoesit:Healmostgetsmetosmile.

Almost.“Ringer?”hesays.Inod.“Sergeant.”Hiskneeswobble.Hefallsintomeandpresseshisfaceagainstmyneck,andoverhisshoulderI

canseeConstancesmilingatus.I’mnotsurewho’sholdingupwhomatthispoint.Usingthe12thSystem,Ipourmyselfintohim.Wherethereispain,Igivecomfort.Wherethereis

fear,hope.Wherethereisrage,peace.“It’sallright,”Itellhim,lookingatConstance.“She’swithme.You’resafenow,Zombie.We’re

allperfectlysafe.”Myfirstlietohim.Itwon’tbethelast.

30HEPULLSOUTofmyarms.Hiseyeswanderoverthestarlitfields,theroadbeyond,thebare,upliftedarmsofthetrees.Hewantstoaskbutdoesn’twantto,either.Itense,waitingforthequestion.Isitcrueltomakehimsayitaloud?

“Teacup?”Ishakemyhead.Henods.Letsoutthedeepbreathhe’sholding.Findingmewasakindofmiracle,andwhenone

miraclehappens,youexpectanother.“Thelittleshit,”hemutters.Lookingaway.Fields,road,trees.“Shesnuckoffonme,Ringer.”He

givesmeahardlook.“How?”Isaythefirstthingthatpopsintomyhead.“Oneofthem.”Inodtowardthepit.Thesecondlie.

“We’vebeendodgingthemallwinter.”Thethird.It’slikeI’vejumpedoffacliff—orpushedZombieoff.Witheachlie,herecedesfromme,acceleratingaswefall.

“ButnotCup.”Hestepsovertothepitandstaresintothemassofdecomposingremains.“Issheinhere?”

Constancejumpsintotheconversation;I’mnotsurewhy.“No.Wegaveheraproperburial,Ben.”Zombielooksather.Glowering.“Who.Thefuck.Areyou?”Hersmileexpands.“MynameisConstance.ConstancePierce.I’msorry.Iknowwe’venevermet,

butitfeelslikeIknowyou.You’repracticallyallMarikatalksabout.”Hestaresatherforasecond.“Marika,”heechoes.“Thatwouldbeme,”Itellhim.Nowstaringatme.“YounevertoldmeyournamewasMarika.”“Youneverasked.”“Inever...?”Hehiccupsahumorlesslaughandshakeshishead.Then,withoutanotherword,he

dropsintothepit.Irushtotheedge,thinkinghe’slosthismind,goneDorothy,thatTeacup’sdeathwasthefinal,tinystrawthatbrokehisback.Whyelsewouldhejumpinthere?ThenIseehimgrabhisrifle,slingitoverhisshoulder,andcrawlbacktotheedge.Welockourfingersaroundeachother ’swristsandIpullhimout.

“Where’retheothers?”hedemands.“Others?”Thatloadedword.“Survivors.Aretheyinthecaves?”Ishakemyhead.“Therearenoothersurvivors,Zombie.”“JustMarikaandme,”Constancechirps.Whydoesshehavetobesogoddamnedcheerful?Zombieignoresher.“Dumbo’sbeenshot,”heinformsme.“IlefthiminUrbana.Let’sgo.”Hebrushespastmeandstridestowardtheroadwithoutlookingback.Constanceiswatchingme.“My!Isn’theacutie?”

Itellhertofuckoff.

31IFALLINnexttohim.Constancetrailsseveralyardsbehind—outofnormalhumanearshot,butConstanceisn’tanormalhuman.Zombiewalkswithshouldershunched,headthrustforward,eyesdartingup,down,sidetoside.Theroadstretchesbeforeus,cuttingacrossrollingfarmlandthatwillneverbefarmlandagain.

“WhatTeacupdidwasherchoice,”Isay.“Notyourfault,Zombie.”Asharpshakeofhishead,then:“Whydidn’tyoucomeback?”Deepbreath.Timetolieagain.“Toorisky.”“Yeah.Well.It’sallabouttherisk,isn’tit?”Then:“Poundcakeisdead.”“Impossible.”Isawthesurveillancetape.Icountedthepeopleinthesafehouse.IfPoundcake’s

dead,who’stheextraperson?“Impossible?Really?”hesays.“Howdoyoufigure?”“Whathappened?”Hewaveshishandatmelikehe’sbrushingawayagnat.“Hadalittletroubleafteryouleft.Long

story.Shortstory:Walkerfoundus.Voschfoundus.ASilencerfoundus.ThenCakeblewhimselfup.”Hiseyesclosebriefly,snapopenagain.“WerodeouttherestofthewinterinthedeadSilencer ’ssafehouse.Wehavefourdaysleft,whichiswhyBoandIdecidedtocomeforyou.”Heswallows.“WhyIdecided.”

“Fourdayslefttillwhat?”Heglancesatme,andthesmilethatcrawlsacrosshisfaceisfrightening.“Theendoftheworld.”

32THENHETELLSMEwhathappenedinUrbana.

“Howaboutthat,huh?”heasks.“Myfirstkillofthewar,andit’ssomerandomoldcatlady.”“Exceptshewasn’trandomandwasn’tacatlady.”“Ineversawsomanycats.”“Catladiesdon’teattheirpets.”“Handyfoodsupply,though.You’dthinkafterawhilethecatswouldgetwise.”HesoundsliketheoldZombie,theoneIleftbehindinthatrat-infestedhotelwearingaridiculous

yellowhoodiewhileheflirtedwithme.Thevoiceisrightbuttheappearanceiswrong:restless,sleep-deprivedeyes,downturned,grayishmouth,cheekscamouflagedindriedblood.HeglancesbackatConstance,thenduckshisheadslightlyandlowershisvoice.“Sowhat’sherstory?”

“Thetypicalone,”Ibegin.Herecomeslienumberfive.“RodeouttheplagueinUrbana,thenheadednorthtothecavesafterherfamilywasgone.Sheguessesovertwohundredpeoplewereholedupdowntherebythefirstsnowoftheseason.Thenthepriestshowedup.AroundChristmas,”Iadd,anicelyironicdetail.Youcan’thaveagoodstorywithoutoneortwoofthose.

“Nobodycaughtonatfirst.Someonegoesmissingonenight,well,maybetheypanickedandhittheroad.Oneday,theywakeupandrealizeoverhalfthepopulationisgone.Youknowwhathappenednext,Zombie.Paranoia.Peopleformingfactions,alliances.Yourbasictribalresponse.Thispersonisaccused.Thatperson.Fingerspointingeverywhere,andinthemiddleofitall,thispriesttryingtokeepthepeace.”

Irattleon.Addingdetail,nuance,asnatchofdialoguehereandthere.I’msurprisedbyhoweffortlesslythebullshitflowsfrommymouth.Lyingislikemurder—afterthefirstone,eachonethatfollowsiseasier.

Eventually,inevitably,thepriestisfoundoutfortheSilencerheis.Mayhemensues.Bythetimethesurvivorsrealizethey’renomatchforhim,it’stoolate.Constancebarelymanagestoescape,returningtoUrbanaandskippingfromabandonedhousetoabandonedhouse,bydumbluckstayinginanareabetweenthecatlady’sterritoryandthepriest’s—aplacethat’srarelypatrolledbyeitherofthem.

“That’swherewefoundeachother,”Itellhim.“Shewarnedmeoffthecaverns,andeversincethenwe’vebeen—”

“Teacup,”hesnaps.Hedoesn’tgiveashitaboutTheAdventuresofConstanceandRinger.“TellmeaboutTeacup.”

“Shefoundme,”Isaywithoutthinking.Thetruth.Nowforthenextlie.Sixth?Seventh?I’velostcount.Thislietoshifttheburdenfromhishunchedshouldersontotheonestowhichitbelonged.“JustsouthofUrbana.Ididn’tknowwhattodo.Didn’twanttoriskbringingherback.Didn’twanttorisktakingherwithme.Thenthatchoicewastakenaway.”

“Catlady,”hebreathed.Inod,relieved.“JustlikeDumbo,onlyTeacupwasn’tsolucky.”See,Zombie,I’mtheonewholost

her—andyou’retheonewhoavengedher.NotexactlyabsolutionbutthenearestIcangivehim.“Tellmeitwasquick.”“Itwasquick.”“Tellmeshedidn’tsuffer.”“Shedidn’tsuffer.”Heturnshisheadandspitsonthesideoftheroad.Abadtasteinhismouth.“Acoupleofdays,you

said.‘I’llscopethemoutandbebackinacoupleofdays.’”“Idon’tmaketherules,Zombie.Theodds—”“Oh,taketheoddsandstuffthemupyourass.Youshouldhavecomeback.Yourplaceiswithus,

Ringer.We’reallyou’vegotandyouleftus.”“That’snotwhathappenedandyouknowit.”Hestopssuddenly.Beneaththerust-coloredmask,hisfaceisadeeperred.“Youdon’trunfrom

thepeoplewhoneedyou.Youfightforthem.Youfightbesidethem.Nomatterthecost.Nomattertherisk.”Hespitsouttheword.“Ithoughtyouunderstoodthat.YoutoldmeinDaytonthatyoudid.Yousaidyouwereanexpertonwhatmatters,andIguessyouare,ifwhatmattersissavingyourselfwhiletherestoftheworldburns.”

Idon’tsayanythingbecauseheisn’ttalkingtome.Iamthemirror.“Youshouldn’thaveleft,”hegoeson.“Weneededyou.Ifyouhadn’tleft,Teacupwouldstillbe

alive.Andifyou’dcomeback,Poundcakemightbealive.Instead,youdecidedtohangoutwithatotalstranger,tohellwithus,andnowDumbo’sbloodisonyourhands,too.”Hejabsafingeratmyface.“Ifhedies,it’syourfault.Dumbocamelookingforyou.”

“Hey,kids,iseverythingallright?”Constance,hersmilewitheredtoaconcernedgrin.“Oh,sure,”Zombiesays.“Wewerejustdiscussingwhereweshouldgofordinner.Chinesesound

goodtoyou?”“Well,it’sclosertobreakfast,”Constanceanswersbrightly.“Icouldreallygoforsomepancakes.”Zombielooksatme.“She’sfun.Whatablastyoumusthavehadthiswinter.”Constance’sworriedgrindisappears.Herbottomlipquivers.Thensheburstsintotearsandflops

downontheasphalt,restingherelbowsonherkneesandburyingherbrokenfaceinherhands.Zombietakesintheactforalong,uncomfortablemoment.

Iknowwhatshe’sdoing:Thebesthammertobreakthebondsofdistrustisnaturalhumansympathy.Pityhaskilledmorepeoplethanhate.

WhenthelastdaycomesforZombie,itwon’tbeanotherpersonwhobetrayshim;itwillbehisheart.

Heglancesatme.What’swiththiswoman?Ishrug.Whoknows?Myapathyfuelshispity,andhegivesintoit,squattingbesideher.“Hey,look,Iwasbeinganasshole,I’msorry.”Constancemutterssomethingthatsoundslikepancakes.Zombietoucheshershouldergently.

“Hey,Connie...It’sConnie,right?”“Con-stan-stan...”“Constance,right.Ihaveafriend,Constance.He’shurtprettybadandIneedtogetbacktohim.

Now.”Rubbinghershoulder.“Like,rightnow.”Itmakesmesicktomystomach.Iturnaway.Acrosstheeasternhorizonaslashofgarishpink

glows.Anotherdayclosertotheend.

“Ijust—Ijustdon’tknow—howmuchmore—Icantake...”Constanceismoaning,onherfeetnowandleaningherwholebodyintoZombie’s,ahandonhisshoulder,anot-so-young-and-fairdamselindistress.IfIhadtogiveConstanceanomdeguerre,IwouldpickCougar.

Zombiegivesmealook:Alittlehelphere?“Ofcourseyoucantakemore,”Isaytoher,mystomachstillchurning.Iwishthehubwouldgeta

griponmygut.“Andthenyou’regonnatakealittlemore,thenalittlemore,andafterthatalittlemore.”Ipullheroffhim,notgently.Shesnufflesloudly,pouringiton.

“Pleasedon’tbemeantome,Marika,”shewhimpers.“You’realwayssomean.”OhdearGod.“Here,”Zombiesays,takingherarm.“Shecanwalkwithme.Youshouldbecoveringtherear

anyway,Ringer.”“Ohyes,”Constancepurrs.“Covertherear,Marika!”Theworldspins.Thegroundheaves.Istumbleacouplefeetofftheroadanddoubleover,atwhich

pointeverythinginmystomachcomesoutinaviolentgush.Ahandonmyback:Zombie’s.“Hey,Ringer—whatthehell?”“I’mokay,”Igasp,shruggingoffhishand.“Mustbetheundercookedrabbit.”Anotherlieandnot

evenanecessaryone.

33MIDMORNING,DOWNTOWNURBANA,underacloudlesssky,thetemperatureinthemidforties.Youcanfeelitcoming.Spring.

ZombieandConstancerushintothecoffeeshopwhileIcoverthestreet.Fromthedoorway,IhearZombie’sstartledcry,andthenhe’sskitteringbacktomeacrossthetreacherouscoffee-bean-coveredfloor.

“What?”Hepushespastmeandlurchesontothestreet,whippingright,thenleft,thenbackagain.Constance

comesoverandsays,“Apparentlythekid’sgone.”InthemiddleofMainStreet,ZombiethrowsbackhisheadandhowlsDumbo’sname.Asifin

mockery,theechoricochetsbackathim.Itrotovertohisside.“Screamingprobablyisn’tagoodidea,Zombie.”Hisresponseisawide-eyed,uncomprehendingstare.Thenheturnsandracesdownthestreet,

callinghisnameoverandover,Dumbo!Dumbo!andDumbo,youdumbass,whereareyou?Heloopsbacktousafteracoupleofblocks,outofbreathandshakingwithpanic.

“Somebodytookhim.”“Howdoyouknow?”Iask.“You’reright,Idon’t.Thanksfortherealitycheck,Ringer.Heprobablygotupandranalltheway

tothesafehouse,exceptfortheinconvenientfactthathewasshotintheback.”Iignorethesarcasm.“Idon’tthinkanyonetookhim,Zombie.”Helaughs.“That’sright.Iforgot.You’retheonewiththeanswers.Comeon,thesuspenseis

killingme.WhathappenedtoDumbo,Ringer?”“Idon’tknow,”Ianswer.“ButIdon’tthinkanyonetookhimbecausethere’snobodylefttodothe

taking.Yourcatladywouldhaveseentothat.”Istartoffdownthestreet.Hewatchesmeforafewseconds,thenshoutsatmyback,“Wherethe

hellareyougoing?”“Thesafehouse,Zombie.Didn’tyousayitwassouthonHighway68?”“Unbelievable!”Heeruptsinatorrentofcurses.Ikeepwalking.Thenheshouts:“Whatthehell

happenedtoyououthere,anyway?Where’stheRingerwhotoldmethateveryonematters?”“Mean,”Constancewhisperstohim.Ihearherclearly.“Itoldyou.”Ikeepwalking.Fiveminuteslater,IfindDumbocrumpledatthebaseofabarricadethatstretchesfromsidewalk

tosidewalkacrossMain.Thathemadeitthisfar—nearlytenblocksfromwherehewashit—isextraordinary.Ikneelbesidehimandpressmyfingersagainsthisneck.Iwhistleloudly.WhenZombiecomessprintingtothescene,he’soutofbreathandreadytocollapse.SoisConstance,exceptherexhaustionisanact.

“Howthehelldidhegethere?”Zombiewondersaloud.Helooksaroundwildly.“Theonlywayhecould,”Ianswer.“Hecrawled.”

34ZOMBIEDOESN’TASKwhyDumbowoulddraghimselftenblocksingreatpainandwithabulletinhisback.Hedoesn’taskbecauseheknowstheanswer.Dumbowasn’tfleeingdangerorlookingforhelp:Dumbowaslookingforhissarge.

It’smorethanZombiecanhandle.Hefallsagainstthesideofthebarricade,gulpingair,hisfacelifteduptothesky.Lost,found,dead,alive,thecyclerepeats;there’snoescape,there’snoreprieve.Zombiecloseshiseyesandwaitsforhisbreathtoslow,hishearttosteady.Asmallbreakbeforeitbeginsagain:thenextloss,thenextdeath.It’salwaysbeenthisway,Iwantedtotellhim.Webeartheunbearable.Weenduretheunendurable.

Wedowhatmustbedoneuntilweourselvesareundone.IscoochnexttoDumboandliftuphisshirt.Thebandageissoaked.Thepackingbeneaththe

bandageissaturated.Ifhewasn’tbleedingoutbefore,heisnow.Ipressmyhandontohisashencheek.Hisskiniscool,butIamgoingdeeperthantheskin.Iamgoingintohim.Besideme,Constancewatches;sheknowswhatI’mdoing.

“Isittoolate?”shewhispers.Dumbofeelsmeinsidehim.Hiseyelidsflutter,hislipspart,andbreathroilsfromhisopenmouth.

Inthedwindlingtwilightofhisconsciousness,aquestion,anachingneed.Igowhereyougo.“Zombie,”Imurmur.“Saysomethingtohim.”Tolive,Dumbowouldneedamassivebloodtransfusion.Hewon’tgetone.Buthedidn’tcrawltenblocksinblisteringpainforthat.Thatisn’twhyheheldon.“Tellhimhemadeit,Zombie.Tellhimhefoundyou.”Thereisalightthatglimmersalongthedarkeningedgeofaninfinitehorizon.Inthatlightthe

heartfindswhattheheartseeks.Inthatlight,DumbogoeswherehisbelovedZombiegoes.Inthatlight,aboynamedBenParishfindshisbabysister.Inthatlight,MarikasavesalittlegirlcalledTeacup.Inthatlightarepromiseskept,dreamsrealized,timeredeemed.

AndZombie’svoice,speedingDumbotowardthelight:“Youmadeit,Private.Youfoundme.”Nodarknessslammingdown.Noendlessfallintolightlessness.AllwaslightwhenIfeltDumbo’s

soulbreakthehorizon.Lost,found,andallwaslight.

35ZOMBIE

IWON’TLEAVEDumbotorotwherehefell.Iwon’tleavehimfortheratsandthecrowsandtheblowflies.Iwillnotburnhim,either.Iwillnotabandonhisbonestobepickedoverandscatteredbyvulturesandvermin.

Iwilldigagraveforhiminthecold,stubbornearth.Iwillburyhismedkitwithhim,butnorifle.Dumbowasnotakiller;hewasahealer.Hesavedmylifetwice.No,threetimes.IhavetocounthistellingRingerwheretoshootmethatnightinDayton.

Therearedozensoffadedflagsstuckthroughoutthebarricade.Iwillmarkhisgravewiththem.Thefabricwillfadetowhite.Thewoodendowelswillfallandslowlydecay.Or,ifWalkerfailstoblowupthemothership,thebombsthatarecomingwillleavenothingbehind—noflags,nograve,noDumbo.

Thentheearthwillsettleandgrasswillgrowovermyfriend,coveringhiminablanketofvividgreen.

“Zombie,there’snotime,”Ringerinformsme.“There’stimeforthis.”Shedoesn’tputupanotherargument.I’msurethereareabouttwelveshecouldwhipout,butshe

holdsback.It’spastnoonbythetimeI’mfinished.DearChrist,it’sturnedintoabeautifulgoddamnedday.We

sitbythemoundoffreshlyturneddirtandIpullouttherestofmypowerbarstoshare.Ringertakesafewtinybites,thenshovestherestintoherjacketpocket.

“Therabbit?”Iask.Shegruntsanonanswer.ThewomannamedConstancegobblesdownherbar.Speakingofrabbits:

Hereyesdartaroundlikeone’s,nosetwitchingasifshe’ssniffingtheairfordanger.Dumbo’srifleliesonthegroundbesideher.Sherefusedtotakeitatfirst.Saidshehadaproblemwithguns.Like,forreal?How’dshelivethislong?

Theotheroddthing:FatherSilencerhadsaidsomethingverysimilaraboutguns—rightbeforeConstanceblewhisheadoffwithmine.

“Anybodywanttosaysomething?”Iask.“Ihardlyknewhim,”Ringeranswers.“Ididn’tknowhimatall,”Constancesays.Maybeshethinksthatsoundedharsh,becausesheadds,

“Poorthing.”“HewasfromPittsburgh.HelovedthePackers.Videogames.Hewasagamer.”Itookabreath.

Damn.Didn’tseemlikemuch.Nothing,really.“CallofDuty.BorderlineMLG.”

AndRingergoes,“Irony.”“I’msurehewasaverysweetboy,”Constancechimesin.Ishakemyhead.“Ididn’tevenknowhisrealname.”ThentoRinger:“It’sjustyouandmenow.”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Squad53.We’rethelast.”Isnapmyfingers.“Christ,IforgotNugget.Three,then.Whowould

havethoughtit,huh,backintheday?Thatit’dbedowntothethreeofus.Well,Iwouldhaveputmymoneyonyou.Notthatmoneymeansanythinganymore.Ormyjudgment.Nugget,Jesus,thatkid’sindestructible.Butme?Never.Neverinamillionyears.Ishouldhavediedsomanytimes,I’velostcount.”

“You’rehereforapurpose.”Constanceleanstowardmeandpointsatmychest.“There’saspecialplaceinhisplanforyou.”

“Whoseplan?Vosch’s?”“God’s!”ShelooksatRinger,thenbackatme.“Aplaceforallofus.”I’mlookingatthemoundofdirtatmyfeet.“Whatwashisplace?WhatpurposedidGodhavefor

Dumbo?TakethebulletformesoIcouldgetontomypurpose,whateverthehellthatis?”“Ithinkyou’reright,Zombie,”Ringersays.“Itdoesn’thavemeaning.It’sjustluck.”“Right.Luck.Hisbad.Mygood.LikestumblingontoConstancehidinginthatpitandthenyou

stumblingintobothofus.”“Yes.Likethat.”Blank-faced.“Talkaboutbeatingtheodds.Youknowwhatit’slike,Ringer?”“Whatisitlike,Zombie?”Hervoice,too—blank,withoutinflection,withoutemotion.“Oneofthosenowaymomentsinmovies.YouknowwhatI’mtalkingabout.Thethingthatmakes

youshakeyourheadandgonoway.Thegoodguysshowingupinthenickoftime.Thebadguyssuddenlygettingacaseofthestupids.Ruinsitforyou.Wrecksitalltoshit.Therealworlddoesn’tworkthatway.”

“It’sthemovies,Zombie,”Ringersays.Holdingherselfverystill.Sheknowswherethisisgoing.Sheknows.I’venevermetanyonesmarter.Orscarier.Somethingaboutthisgirlscaresthelivingcrapoutofme.Alwayshas,fromthefirstdayIsawherincamp,watchingmedoknucklepush-upsintheyarduntilthebloodpooledbeneathmyhands.Thewayshelooksatyou,flayingyouopenlikeafishonthecuttingblock.Andcold.Notthecoldofawalk-infreezerorthecoldofthisnever-endingfuckingwinter.Thecoldofdryice.Thecoldthatburns.

“Oh,themovies!”Constancecriessoftly.“HowImissthemovies!”I’vehadenough.Iamdone.IlevelmysidearmatConstance’shead.“TouchthatrifleandIwillkillyou.Moveoneinchandyouwilldie.”

36THEWOMAN’SMOUTHdropsopen.Herhandsflytoherchest.ShestartstosaysomethingandIholdupmyfreehand.

“Andnotalking.Talkingwillalsogetyoukilled.”ToRinger,butkeepingmyeyeonConstance:“Youcancomecleannow.Whoisthisperson?”

“Itoldyou,Zombie—”“You’regoodatalotofthings,Ringer,butyousuckatlying.Something’sseriouslytwistedhere.

TellmewhatitisandIwon’twasteher.”“I’mbeinghonest.Youcantrusther.”“ThelastpersonItrustedthrewcatstewinmyface.”“Thendon’ttrusther.Trustme.”Ilookather.Blankface,deadeyes,andthecoldnessthatburns.“Zombie,Iwouldneverlietoyou,”Ringersays.“WithoutConstance,Iwouldn’thavemadeit

throughthewinter.”“Yeah,tellmehowyoudidthat.Tellmehowyousurvivedanentirewinterinthemostobvious

hidingplaceinsideaSilencer ’sterritorywithoutfreezingtodeath,starvingtodeath,orgettingknifedtodeath.Tellme.”

“BecauseIknowwhatneedstobedone.”“Huh?Whatthehelldoesthatevenmean?”“Isweartoyou,Zombie,she’sokay.She’soneofus.”Thegunisshaking.That’sbecausemyhandis.Ibringuptheothertosupportmywrist.ConstanceisgivingRingeralook.“Marika.”“Okay,nowthat’sanotherthing!”Ishout.“Youwouldnevertellheryourname,notinamillion

years.Shit,youwouldn’teventellme.”RingerslidesintothespacebetweenmeandConstance.Hereyesarenotsodeadnow,herfacenot

somasklike.I’veseenthelookoncebefore,inDayton,whenshewhispered,Ben,we’rethe5thWave,determinedtoconvinceme,desperateformetobelieve.

“Howdoyouknowshe’soneofus,Ringer?”Iask.Well,morelikebeg.“Howcanyouknow?”“BecauseI’malive,”sheanswers.Sheholdsoutherhand.Thesafestthing—forme,forher,forthepeopleIleftbehindinthesafehouse—istoignore

Ringerandkillthestranger.Ihavenochoice.WhichmeansIhavenoresponsibility.Ican’tbeblamedforfollowingtherulesthattheenemysetdown.

“Stepaside,Ringer.”Sheshakesherhead.Herdarkbangsslidebackandforth.“Notgoingtohappen,Sergeant.”Herdarkunblinkingeyes,hermouthfirmlyset,herwholebodyleaningtowardme,andherhand

waitingfortheweaponthatquiversinmine.Iriskedeverythingtorescueheranddamnifsheisn’t

riskingittosaveme.TheOthershaveloosedmorethanonekindofSilencerontheworld,morethanonekindof

infested.Ifeelhiminsideme,theonewhowouldripmysoulintwo.Andtheydidn’tneedtocomeagazillionlight-yearstobringhimhere.He’salwaysbeenthere,inside,theSilencerWithin.

“What’shappeningtous,Ringer?”Shenods:SheknowsexactlywhereI’mcomingfrom.Alwayshas.“Westillhaveachoice,”sheanswers.“Theywantustobelievewedon’t,butit’salie,Zombie.

Theirbiggestone.”Behindher,Constancewhimpers,“Iamhuman.”That’showit’llgodown.Thosewillbethelastwordsofthelastoneleft.Iamhuman.“Idon’tevenknowwhatthatmeansanymore,”IsaytoRinger,tomyself,tonobodyatall.ButIdropthegunintoRinger ’sopenhand.

37SAM

THEFRONTDOORflewopenandCassielungedinfromtheporch,holdingherrifle.“Sam!Quick,gowakeupEvan.Someone’s—”Hedidn’twaitfortherest.HeraceddownthehalltoEvan’sroom.Zombiehadcomeback;Sam

wassureofit.Evanwasn’tasleep.Hewassittingupinbed,staringattheceiling.“Whatisit,Sam?”“Zombie’sback.”Evanshookhishead.Howcouldthatbe?Thenheslidfromthebed,grabbedhisrifle,and

followedSamdownthehallandintothelivingroom.AndCassiewassaying,“Whatdoyoumean,Dumbo’sgone?”TherewasZombieandRingerandastrangerintheroomwithCassie.Dumbowasn’tthere.

Teacupwasn’tthere.“He’sdead,”Ringeranswered,andSamasked,“Teacup,too?”AndRingernodded.Teacup,too.Behindhim,EvanWalkerasked,“Whoisthis?”Hewastalkingaboutthestranger,ablondolder

ladywithaniceface,abouttheageofSam’smotherwhenshedied.“She’swithme,”Ringersaid.“She’sokay.”TheladywaslookingatSam.Shewassmiling.“MynameisConstance.AndyoumustbeSam.

PrivateNugget.It’sverynicetomeetyou.”Sheheldoutherhand.Hisdaddytaughthimtoalwaysshakehandsfirmly.Agood,stronggrip,

Sammyman,butdon’tsqueezetoohard.Thesmilingladydid,though—veryhard.SheyankedSamintoherchest,wrappinganarmaround

hisneck,andthenhefelttheendofagunpressingagainsthistemple.

38“THISISGOINGtogosmoothandeasy,”theladyyelledoverthejumbled-upshoutsofZombieandCassie.“Smoothandeasy.”

ZombiewaslookingatRinger,whowaslookingatEvanWalker,andCassiewaslookingatRinger,too,andthenhissistersaid,“Youbitch.”

“Weapons,overthere,”theladysaid.Hervoicestillhadasmileinit.“Stack’embythefireplace.Now.”

Theydisarmed,onebyone.Cassiesaid,“Don’thurthim.”“Nobody’sgettinghurt,sweetheart,”theladysaid,smiley-voiced.“Where’stheotherone?”“Theotherwhat?”Cassieasked.“Human.There’sonemore.Whereisit?”“Idon’tknowwhatyou’re—”“Cassie,”EvanWalkersaid.ButhewaslookingoverSam’sheadatthelady’sface.“Goget

Megan.”HesawhissistermouthtoEvanWalker,Dosomething.EvanWalkershookhisheadno.“Shewon’tcomeoutofherroom,”Cassiesaid.“Maybeshe’llchangehermindifyoutellherI’mgoingtoblowyourlittlebrother ’sbrainsout.”Zombie’sfacewaspaleandcakedindriedblood,sohelookedlikearealzombie.“That’snot

goingtohappen,”Zombiesaid.“Sowhatnow?”“ThensheshootsNuggetandkeepsshootingpeopleuntilMegancomesout,”Ringersaid.

“Zombie,trustmeonthis.”“Oh,sure,”Cassiesaid.“Terrificidea.Let’salltrustRinger.”“She’snotheretohurtanyone,”Ringersaid.“Butshewillifshehasto.Tellthem,Constance.”“Me,”EvanWalkersaid.“You’vecomeforme,haven’tyou?”“Thegirlfirst,”Constancesaid.“Thenwetalk.”Cassiesaid,“That’sfine.Talking’soneofmyfavoritethings.Butfirstmaybeyoucouldletmy

littlebrothergo...takemeinstead?”Cassie’shandswereupandshewasputtingonherfakesmile.Itwasn’tagoodfakesmile.Youcouldalwaystellwhenshewasfaking,becauseshedidn’tlookfriendly;shelookedlikeshewasgoingtothrowup.

Thelady’sarmlikeanironbarpressingagainsthiswindpipe,hardtobreathenow,andsomethingelsepressingagainstthesmallofhisback,hisspecialsecret,nobodyknew,notZombieorevenCassie,andnotthislady,either.

Samslippedhishandbehindhisback,intothespacebetweenhimandConstance.Hewasasoldier.HehadforgottenhisABCsbutherememberedthelessonsofcombat.Yoursquad

beforeGod,that’swhattheytaughthim.Hecouldrememberonlythevaguestoutlineofhismother ’s

face,butheknewtheirfaces,Dumbo’sandTeacup’s,Poundcake’sandOompa’sandFlintstone’s.Hissquad.Hisbrothersandsisters.Hecouldn’trecallthenameofhisschoolorwhatthestreethelivedonlookedlike.Thosethingsandthehundredotherforever-gonethingsdidn’tmatteranymore.Onlyonethingmatterednow,thecryofthefiringrangeandtheobstaclecourserisingfromthethroatsofhissquad:Nomercyever!

“Younowhavefifteenseconds,”theladyholdinghimsaid.“Don’tmakemecountthemdown;it’ssomelodramatic.”

Thenthegunwasinhishandandhedidnothesitate.Heknewwhattodo.Hewasasoldier.Thegunkickedinhishandwhenhefired;healmostdroppedit.Thebulletrippedthroughthe

lady’sabdomenandexitedherlowerback,theslugburyingitselfinthedustysofacushions.Thenoisewasveryloudinthesmallspace,andCassiecriedout:Foranawfulsecond,shemusthavethoughtitwasthelady’sgunthatwentoff.

TheshotfailedtodroptheConstanceladyorbreakherholdonhisneck.Hergriploosened,though,attheshockofimpact,andSamheardthetiniestofgasps,astartledhuh,andbeforehecouldblink,Ringerwasflyingoverthecoffeetable,armdrawnback,handcurledintoafist.HerknucklesgrazedhischeekbeforelandingagainstthesideofConstance’shead,andthenahandhedidn’tseeflungoffthearmaroundhisneckandhestumbledfree.Hissisterreachedforhim,buthespunaway,holdingthegunwithbothhands,andRingeryankedConstancecompletelyoffherfeetandswungherbodyhighintotheairlikeanaxmancuttingfirewood,smashingherdownontothecoffeetable.Thetableexploded,woodandglassandpiecesofjigsawpuzzlespewingineverydirection.

Constancesatup;RingerrammedtheheelofherhandintoConstance’snose.Pop!Youcouldhearitbreak.Bloodburstfromheropenmouth.

Fingersclawingathisshirt:Cassie’s.Hepulledaway.Cassiewasn’tpartofasquad.Shedidn’tknowwhatitmeanttobeasoldier.Hedid.Heknewexactlywhatitmeant.Nomercyever.Hesteppedoverthebrokenpiecesofthetableandpointedthegunatthemiddleofthelady’sface.

Herbloodymouthpulledintoasoullesssnarlofasmile,bloodylipsandbloodyteeth,andthenhewasbackinhismother ’sroom,andshewasdyingoftheplague,theRedDeath,Cassiecalledit,andhewasstandingbyherbedandshewassmilingathimwithbloodyteeth,facestainedwithbloodytears;hesawitsoclearly,thefacehe’dforgotteninthefacehesawnow.

Intheinstantbeforehepulledthetrigger,SammySullivanrememberedhismother ’sface,thefacetheyhadgivenher,andthebulletthattoredownthebarrelheldhisrage,borehisgrief,containedthesumofallhehadlost.Itconnectedthemasifbyasilvercord.Whenherfaceblewapart,theybecameone,victimandperpetrator,predatorandprey.

ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ

39RINGER

THEBLOODSPRAYblindsmeforasecond,butthehubretainsthedataofNugget’slocationandtheprecisepositionofthegun.Bythetimethatsecondexpires,hishandisemptyandmineisn’t.

Attheendofthenextsecond,thegunistrainedatthefaceofEvanWalker.Walkeristhelinchpin,thefulcrumuponwhichoursurvivalrests.Alive,he’sanunacceptablerisk.

Pullingthetriggermightcostmyownlife;Iknowthat.Cassie—evenZombie—mightkillmeforkillinghim,butIdon’thaveachoice.We’reoutoftime.

Noneofthemcanhearityet,butIcan—thesoundofthechopperbearingdownfromthenorth,loadedwithHellfiremissilesandasquadofVosch’sbestsharpshooters.ThelossofConstance’ssignalcanonlymeanonething.

“Ringer,”Zombiecrieshoarsely.“Whatthefuck?”Atinyfigurerushesfrommyright.Nugget.IpullthepunchsoIdon’tbreakhissternum,butthe

blowsendshimflyingoffhisfeetandintoSullivan’schest.Theyploptothefloorinasprawlofarmsandlegs.

Istayfocusedonthetarget.“Ben,don’t,”Walkersayscalmly,thoughZombiehasn’tmoved.“Let’shearwhatshewants.”“YouknowwhatIwant.”Fingertighteningonthetrigger.There’snoquestionthatWalkerhastodie.It’ssoobvious,evenNuggetwouldagreeifheknew

thefacts.Hissister,too.Well,maybenot.Loveblindsmorethanitreveals.Razortaughtmethat.“Ben!”Walkershouts.“No.”Zombiedoesn’tdiveforaweapon.Hedoesn’tleaptowardme.Hetakestwoveryslow,very

deliberatestepstoputhisbodybetweenmeandEvanWalker.“Sorry,Ringer,”Zombiesays.Incredibly,he’sdecidedtowhipouttheslayersmile.“Notgoingto

happen.”Heraiseshisarmsasiftoofferabettertarget.“Zombie,youdon’tknow...”“Well,that’sagiven.Idon’tknowshit.”Ifitwereanyoneelse.Sullivan,evenNugget.Whatisthecost,Marika?Whatistheprice?“Zombie,there’snotime.”“Notimeforwhat?”Hehearditthen;theyallheardit;ithadcomewithinrangeofnormalhumanhearing.The

chopper.“Holyshit,”Sullivangasped.“Whathaveyoudone?Whatthehellhaveyoudone?”

Iignoreher.OnlyZombiematters.“Theydon’twantus,”Itellhim.“Theywanthim.Wecan’tletthemhavehim,Zombie.”

IfZombiewouldjustdiphisheadahalfinch.That’sallIneed,halfaninch.The12thSystemwilldotherest.I’msorry,Zombie.There’snotime.Thehublocksin.Iletloosetheround.ThebulletsmashesintoZombie’sthigh.He’ssupposedtogodowntoclearthewayforthenextround—thekillshottoEvanWalker ’s

head.Hedoesn’t.Instead,hefallsbackintoWalker ’schestandWalkerwrapshisarmsaroundhim,holdinghimup

orusinghimasahumanshield.Beneaththefaintsoundoftherotorsoutside,anevenfaintersound,thethu-wappofaparachutedeploying.Thenanother.Thenanother.Thu-wapp,thu-wapp,thu-wapp,thu-wapp,thu-wapp.Fiveinall.

IthitsmeI’vebeenappealingtothewrongperson.“Drophim,”IsaytoEvanWalker.“IfyoucareatallaboutwhathappenstoCassie,drophim.”Buthedoesn’tandnowI’moutoftime.Drawnoutanyfurther,thisstalematewillcostallour

lives.The5thWaveiscoming.

40EVANWALKER

THERECANBEonlyoneexplanation.Herleapacrosstheroom.Thespeedofherhands,theacuityofhervisionandhearing.Onlyone

possibility.Shehadbeenenhanced.Ahumanhadreceivedthegift.Why?Shepropelledherselftowardthefrontwindow,coveringthelengthoftheroominthreestrides,

rollingherbodyinmidairtostriketheglasswithhershoulder,thendisappearingintoahaloofpulverizedglassandwood.

Cassieimmediatelystartedtowardhim—ortowardBen,whomhestillheldupright.“Megan,”Evansaid.“Getherdowntothebasement.”

Cassienodded.Sheunderstood.Shegrabbedherlittlebrother ’swristandyankedhimtowardthehallway.

“No!I’mstayingwithZombie!”“JesusChrist,Sam,comeon...”Theyfleddownthehall.Thechopperwasgettingcloser;thesoundofitsenginesflowedthrough

thebrokenwindowlikewavescrashingonthebeach.Firstthingsfirst,though.HeheavedBenoverhisshoulderandcarriedhimtowardthesofa,steppingoverthebodythatlayamidtheshatteredremnantsofthecoffeetable.HelaidBenonthesofaandglancedaboutforsomethingtotieofftheleg.Thedeadwoman’shoodie.Evankneltbesideherandrippedthehoodieopen.Hetoreoffastrip,fromcollartohem,andswungbackaround.Benwaseyeinghimfromacolorlessface,breathhighinhischest,goingintoshock.

ThebullethadenteredBen’slegjustabovethekneecap.Anylowerandhe’dneverwalkagain.Benwasn’tlucky.Ringerhadplacedtheshotcarefully.

Benopenedhismouthandsaid,“Mybad.Ishouldn’thavebroughtthemhere.”“Youcouldn’tknow,”Evanassuredhim.Benshookhisheadviolently.“Noexcuse.”Heslammedhisopenpalmagainstthecushionsand

dustexplodedintotheair.Hecoughed.Evanliftedhiseyestowardtheceilingandlistened.Howmuchtimedidtheyhave?Hardtotell.

Twominutes?Less?HelookedbackdownatBen,whosaid,“Basement.”Evannodded.“Basement.”HepulledBenfromthesofaandslunghimoverhisshoulder.WherewasCassie?Hetrotteddown

thestairs,Ben’scheekbouncingagainsthisback.Hecarriedhimtothefarcorneroftheroomand

easedhimontotheconcretefloor.“Don’twait,Walker.”Benjerkedhisheadtowardtheweaponscache.“Ifyoudon’ttakeoutthat

birdfast,itwon’tmatterifthey’redownhere.”Evanliftedthemissilelauncherfromthehookonthewall.Thechoppermustbeinrangebynow.

Heracedbackupthestairs,takingthemtwoatatime,thelauncherheavyasasteelgirderinhishands.Hisbadanklesangwithpain.Hepushedthroughit.

Thehallwaywasempty.Theairthrummedagainsthisskin.TheBlackHawkwascirclingdirectlyabovethehouse.Leavethemuphereandrisktheshot?Orgetthemdownstairsandriskthemissile?

Hedroppedthelauncherontothefloor.

41CASSIEWASPOUNDINGontheclosetdoorandscreamingMegan’sname.ShewhirledaroundwhenEvanburstintotheroom.

“She’sbarricadedherselfinside,thelittlebitch!”HeshovedCassieoutofthewayandslammedhisshoulderintothedoor.Itjerkedonitshingesbut

didnotgiveway.“Cassie,Sam,basement,now,”heshouted.Theyfledfromtheroom.Hebroughtuphisgoodfootandslammeditintothemiddleofthedoor.

Thewoodcracked.Again.Crack.Again.Crack!Threestepsbackandheloweredhisshoulderintothecrack.Thedoorrippeddownthemiddleandhestumbledthroughtheopeningintodarkness.Apairofeyeswidewithterrorregardedhimfromthecorner.Heheldouthishand.

“We’reabouttobeblownup,Megan.”Sheshookherhead.Shewasn’tleaving.Noway.Hereachedforherandherhandsballedintofists

andpummeledhisface.Shescratchedathiseyes.Shescreamedasifshewerebeingbeatentodeath.Hegrabbedherwristandyanked.Sheflewintohischest,thenkickedhisgroinhardwhile

reachingtowardthebackoftheclosetwithherfreehand.Ateddybearlayamongthewadsofclothes.“Captain!”Hegrabbedthebear.“Here,I’vegothim.”ThefirstHellfiremissilestruckthehousepreciselytwominutesandtwenty-twosecondslater.

42CARRYINGMEGAN,Evanwashalfwaydownthebasementstairswhentheconcussionfromtheblasthurledthemintotheair.Hewhippedhisbodyaroundashefell:Hewouldtaketheforceoftheimpact,notthelittlegirl.

Slammingintotheconcretefloorknockedthewindoutofhim.Meganrolledoffhischestandlaystill.

Thenthesecondmissilestruck.Flamesroareddownfromabove.Hesawthemcoming,abrightorangeandredbatteringram.He

threwhimselfoverthegirl;thefirepassedoverthem;hesmelledhishairsinge,feltthefurnace-hotbreaththroughhisshirt.

Heliftedhishead.AcrossthebasementhecouldseeCassieandSamcrouchingbesideBen.Hecrawledovertothem,draggingMeganbehindhim.Cassie’seyesmethis:Isshe...?

Heshookhishead:No.“Where’sthelauncher?”Benasked.Evanpointedattheceiling.Upstairs.Oritusedtobe,whentherewasanupstairs.Dislodgedcobwebsanddustswirledaroundthem.Theceilingwasholdingfornow.Hedoubtedit

couldwithstandanotherhit.BenParishmusthavebeenthinkingthesamething.“Oh,that’sgreat.”BenturnedtoCassie.“Let’severybodyformaprayercircle,quick,becausewe

havejustbeenroyallyfucked.”“It’llbeokay,”Evanassuredhim.HetouchedCassie’scheek.“It’snottheend.Notyet.”Hestood

up.“Theycamehereforonething,”hesaidquietly,hisvoicebarelyaudibleabovetheinfernooverthem.“Theyopenedfirebecausetheyassumedthey’dfailed.TheythinkI’mdead.I’mgoingtoshowthemthatthey’rewrong.”

Mystified,Benshookhishead.Hedidn’tunderstand.Cassiedid,though,andherfacedarkenedwithanger.

“EvanWalker,don’tyoudaredothisagain.”“Lasttime,Mayfly.Ipromise.”

43HEPAUSEDATthebaseofthestairsthatledupintothesmokeandflame.Behindhim,Cassiewasscreaming,callinghisname,cursinghim.

Heclimbedanyway.Ringercalledit:Theydon’twantus.Theywanthim.Halfwayup,hewonderedifheshouldhavekilledBenParish.HewouldbealiabilitytoCassie.

Slowherdown.Beaburdenshemaynotbeabletobear.Hepushedthethoughtfromhismind.Toolatenow.Toolatetoturnback.Toolatetorun,toolate

tohide.LikeCassiebeneaththecarthatday,likeBenbeneaththeimplodingdeathcamp,hehadreachedthemomentoffacingthatwhichhethoughthecouldnotface.Hehadriskedeverythingtosaveherbefore,butthosetimestheriskwasmeasured,calculated,andasmallchancealwaysremainedthathewouldendure.

Notthistime.Thistimehewasmarchingstraightintothebellyofthebeast.Heturnedonce,atthetopofthestairs,buthecouldnotseeherandhecouldnothearher.Shewas

lostinahazeofdustandsmokeandtheslowlyspinninggossamerstrandsofcobweb.Acyclonewhippedthroughthewreckage,thechoppermakingapass,andthewindfromitsblades

slungasidethesmokeandtampeddownthefire,flatteningitoutlikearollingredsea.Helookedupandsawthepilotatthecontrols,lookingdown.

Heraisedhishandsandshuffledforward.Thefireencircledhim.Thesmokeengulfedhim.Hewalkedthroughthemaelstromintoclear,cleanair.

EvanWalkerstoodstillinthemiddleoftheroad,handsup,asthehelicoptercamedown.

44SQUADONE-NINE

FROMTHEIRPOSITIONthreehundredyardstothenorth,thefive-memberstriketeamfromSquad19watchthechopperfiretwomissiles,thenit’sbye-bye,house,blasteddowntoitsconcretefoundationinanorgasmoffireandsmoke.

InMilk’searpiece,thepilot’svoice:“Holdyourposition,One-nine.Repeat:Holdposition.”Milkraiseshisfisttosignalhisteam:Wehold.Thechoppermakesawidearctocirclebackoverthetarget.CrouchedbesideMilk,Pixiesighs

loudly,fussingwithhiseyepiece.Thestrap’stoobigforhislittlehead,andhecan’tkeepitsnug.SwizzwhispersforhimtoshutupandPixinstructshimtokisshisass.Milktellsthembothtoshutup.

TheteamhuddlesbeneathafadedHavolinesignbesideanoldbrickbuildingthathadbeenabodyshopbeforetheworldwentFUBAR.Stacksofusedtiresandpilesofrims,discardedenginepartsandtools,allscatteredaroundthelotlikewind-drivenleaves;thecarsandtrucksandSUVsandminivansarecoatedindustandgrime,withshatteredwindowsandmildewedupholstery,relicsoftheirrelevantpast.ThegenerationthatfollowedSquad19—iftherewasagenerationtofollow—wouldnotrecognizethestrangesymbolsattachedtothetrunksandgrillsoftheserustinghulks.Inahundredyears,noonewouldbeabletoreadthesignovertheirheadsorevenunderstandthattheletterssymbolizedsounds.

Likeitmattersanymore.Likeanyonecares.Betternottoremember.Betternottoknow.Youcan’tmournwhatyouneverhad.

Thechopperhoversoverthewreckage,andthedowndraftfromitsbladesflattensthesmokeandpushestheflamessideways.Theysquintthroughtheireyepieces,MilkandPixtothesouthtowardthechopper,SwizzandSnickstothewest,Gummytothenorth,scanningtheterrainforthegreenglowofanalien-infestedenemy.TheywillwaitfortheBlackHawktopullout,thenmovesouthdownthehighway,clearingtheareaastheygo—ifthere’sanydamnthingtoclear.UnlesstheTedstookoffwhentheyheardthechopper ’sapproach,anythingcaughtinthathousewastoast.

Pixsawitfirst:atinyneon-greensparkthatbobbedaboutintheflameslikeafireflyinthesummerdusk.HepokedMilkinthelegandpointed.Milknoddedwithagrimsmile.Ohyeah.They’vedrilledforthis,dearJesus,theycan’trememberhowoften,butthisisthefirsttimeinarealcombatsituation.Aliving,breathing,honest-to-God,in-the-fleshinfested.

Sixmonths,twoweeks,andthreedayssincethebusesbroughtthemtogether,thegirlsandboysofSquad19.Onehundredandninety-ninedays.Fourthousand,sevenhundredandseventy-sixhours.Twohundredeighty-sixthousand,fivehundredandsixtyminutessincePixwasRyan,coweringinadrainageditch,coveredinscabsandsoresandlice,withabloatedstomachandstick-thinarmsand

bulging,buggyeyes,broughtontothebussobbingtearlesslybecausehisbodywasstarvedforwater.AndMilkwascalledKylethen,rescuedfromacampacouplemilesfromtheCanadianborder,abigkid,sullenandangryanditchingforpayback,hardtocontrol,difficulttobreak,butintheendtheybrokehim.

Theybrokeallofthem.JeremytoSwizz,LuistoGummy,EmilytoSnickers.Abunchofcandy-assednamesforabunch

ofcandy-assedrecruits.Theonestheycouldnotbreak,theonesWonderlandtoldthemwereunfit,andtheoneswhose

mindsorbodiesgavewayinbasicdisappearedintoincineratorsorintosecretholdingroomstoretrofittheirbodiesintobombs.Itwaseasy.Itwasabsurdlyeasy.Emptythevesselofhopeandfaithandtrustandyoucanfillitwithanythingyoulike.TheycouldhavetoldthekidsinSquad19thattwoplustwoequalsfiveandtheywouldhavebelievedit.No,notjustbelievedit;theywouldhavekilledanyonewhoclaimedotherwise.

Atallfiguretoppedingreenfireemergesfromthesmokeandflame—armsup,handsempty,crossingtheblackenedrubbleontotheroad—andthechopperdipsitsnoseandbeginsdescending.

Whatthehell?Whydon’ttheywastehim?Pix,youdumbass,he’sgottabethefriggingtarget.Sonofabitchmadeit.ThechoppersetsdownandnowMilkcanseeHershandReesehopfromthehold.Hecan’thear

them,butheknowswhatthey’rescreamingattheTedoverthecacophonyoftheengine:Down,down,down!Handsonyourhead!Thefiguredropstoitsknees;itshandsareswallowedbythegreenfiredancingarounditsface.Theydragtheprisonerovertothebirdandhaulhiminside.

Thepilot’svoicesquawksinMilk’sear:“Returningtargettobase.Seeyouonthebackside,soldiers.”

TheHawkroarsdirectlyoverthem,northbound.TheHavolinesignquiversatitspassing.Gummywatchesthechoppershrinktowardthehorizon,andtheworldgoesquietfast,leavingonlythewindandfireandhisownheavybreath.Thiswillbequick,hetellshimself.Absently,hepresseshishandagainsthisshoulder,stilltenderfromthenightbefore,thewoundsstillfresh:VQP.

ItwasMilk’sidea.MilkhadseenRazor ’sbodywithhisowneyes,anditwasMilkwhofiguredoutwhatthelettersstoodfor.Vincitquipatitur.Heconquerswhoendures.Theycarvedthesamelettersintotheirownarms—VQP—inhonorofthefallen.

Milkgivesthesignalandtheymoveout.Milkonthepoint,Pixrightbehind,SwizzandSnicktheflankers,andGummybringinguptherear.Markthosewindowsacrossthestreetthere,Snick.Checkthosecars,Swizz.

They’vedrilledthisathousandtimes,housetohouse,roomtoroom,basementtoroof.Youcleartheblock,thenmovetothenextone.Don’trush.Watchyourback.Watchyourbuddy’sback.Ifyouhavetheshot,taketheshot.Simple.Easy.Soeasyachildcoulddoit,whichisoneofthechiefreasonstheypickedchildrentodoit.

Sixmonths,twoweeks,andthreedaysaftertheschoolbusrolledtoastopandavoicecalledout,Don’tbeafraid.You’resafenow,perfectlysafe,Gummyhearssomethingotherthanthewindandthefireandhisownbreath:ahigh-pitchedwhinelikethesquealingofthatbus’sbrakes.That’sthelastsoundhehearsbeforethetwenty-inchsteelrimsmashesintothebackofhishead,snappinghisspinalcord.He’sdeadbeforehehitstheground.

Onehundredandeighty-fourdaysafterrollingintocamp,Snicksisnext.SheandSwizzdroptothegroundwhenGummyfalls,that’sthetraining,that’sthememorytheirmuscleshold,andtheiradversaryknowsit.Sheanticipatedit.

Lyingonhisbelly,Swizzlookstohisright.Snicksismakingastrangledgurglingsound,herrifleabandonedontheroadnexttoher,bothhandsclutchingthehandleofthetwenty-five-inchscrewdriverembeddedinherneck.Herjugularhasbeensevered.Shewillbedeadinlessthanaminute.

Fourthousand,fourhundredandsixteenhoursafterhesawthelightsofthebus’sheadlampsstabbingthroughthewoodsinwhichhehid,Swizzscramblesonhishandsandkneestotheroadside—andseesthegreenlightthroughhiseyepieceforasplitsecondbeforeitvanishesbehindtheoldgarage:thepalefireofaninfested.Gotyounow,yousonofabitch.Swizzdoesn’tknowwhathappenedtoMilkandPix,andhedoesn’tturnaroundtofindout.He’srunningoninstinctandadrenalineandaragethatcannotbemeasuredorexhausted.Heheaveshimselftohisfeetandtakesoffforthegarage.She’salreadyontheroofbythetimehereachesthesoutheastcornerofthebuilding,waitingforhim,readytoleap.

Atleastit’llbequick.MilkandPixhearhisrifle’sreportfromtheirhidingplacebehindtheoverturnedTahoethat

straddlestheshoulderoftheroad.Threeshort,staccatobursts:tat-tat-tat!Thensilence.Withasoft,disgustedcry,Pixripsofftheeyepiece,screwthis,fuckerwon’tstayup,andMilk

calmlyordershimtoputitbackonwhilehescanstheirsurroundings.Pixignoreshim.Broaddaylight,hecanseefine,andwhocareswhetherthey’rehumanorinfestedanymore?

Windandfireandtheirownbreath.Don’tgetpinned.Don’tgodownanydeadends.Don’tsplitup.Lyingonhisside,hisshoulderpressingagainstthecomfortingsteeloftheSUV,PixlooksupintoMilk’sface.Milk’sthesarge.Milkwon’tlethimdown.VQP.Hellyes.VQP.

Thegirl’sbullettravelsacrosstheroad,shattersthedriver ’swindow,passesthroughtheinteriorandexitsontheotherside,rippingthroughPix’sjacketandburrowingintohisbackuntilitreacheshisspine.Therethebulletstops.

Twohundredsixty-fourthousand,ninehundredandsixty-threeminutesfromhisrescuetothismoment,andMilkscootstowardthefrontbumper,draggingPix’sbodywithhim.Theupperhalfjerksinhishands;thelowerhalfisparalyzed,deadalready,andwhatthefuckweretheythinking,carvingthosestupidlettersintotheirarms?Pix’ssmallfingersclawingatMilk’sfaceasthelightdrainsfromhiseyes.Protectme,coverme,keepthebastardsoffme,Sarge.

That’sright,that’sright,Pix.VQP.VQfuckingP.He’sstillwhisperingtohimwhenshestepsaroundthehoodofthecar.Hedoesn’tlookup.He

doesn’tevenhearher.Fifteenmillion,eighthundredninety-seventhousand,sevenhundredandninety-twoticksofthe

clock,andMilkfollowstherestofSquad19down.

45RINGER

IWON’TLEAVEtheseboystorotwheretheyfell.Iwon’tleavethemfortheratsandthecrowsandtheblowflies,thebuzzardsandpacksofferal

dogs.Iwillnotabandontheirbonestobepickedoverandscatteredbyvulturesandvermin.Iwillnotburnthem,either.Withmybarehands,Iwilldigagravefortheminthecoldearth.Thesunslipstowardthehorizon.Thewindpicksup,whippingmyhairacrossmyface,andthe

groundbreaksbetweenmyfingers,myhandstheplowthatbreaksthestubbornsoilfortheplanting.IknowZombie’swatchingme.Icanseehimattheedgeoftheblack,blasted-outruinsofthe

house.He’sleaningonapieceofcharredtwo-by-four,holdinghisrifleandwatchingme.TwilightsettlesaroundusandstillhewatchesasIcarrythebodiesonebyonetotheholeI’vedug.

Hehobblesover.He’sgoingtoshootme.He’sgoingtokickmybodyintotheholeandburymewithmyvictims.Hewon’twaitformetoexplain.Therewillbenoquestions,becauseeverythingoutofmymouthwillbealie.

Hestops.I’mkneelingbesidethegraveandtheirfacesarelookingsightlesslyupatme.Theoldest—thesquadleader,I’mguessing—couldnotbeolderthantwenty.

ThesoundoftheboltonZombie’srifledrawingbackisenhancedandthehubordersadefensiveresponse.Iignoreit.

“IshotTeacup,”Isayintothefaceofthedeadrecruit.“IthoughtshewastheenemyandIshother.ShehadonechanceandIhadnochoice.Iletthemtakeus,Zombie.Itwastheonlywaytosaveher.”

Hisvoiceisasdryasdeadleavesrattlingonwinterboughs.“Thenwhereisshe?”“Gone.”Thewordhangs.Eventhewindcan’tmoveit.“Whatdidtheydotoyou,Ringer?”Ilookup.Notathim.Straightup.Thefirststarspeekatmethroughthegloaming.“ThesamethingtheydidtoWalker.ThesamethingtheydidtoConstanceandthatpriestandthe

catlady.”Aboveme,thestarsshinedownunblinking.Iblink,andmytearsfallsilverintheirlight.Vosch’s

giftallowsmetoseetotheveryedgeoftheuniverse,butIcouldn’tseetheprisonwallsoneveryside.Thetruth.The12thSystemenhancesallothers,includingtheonethat’sbeentearingmybody

apartsinceIreturnedfromthewilderness.Irefusedtofacethetruth.Iknewit,andIrefused.Aman

blindfrombirthreachesoutandtouchesanelephant’sear.Anelephantisflatlikeasheet.Anotherblindmantouchesitstrunk.Anelephantisshapedlikeasnake.Athirdstrokesitsleg.Anelephantislikeatree.

Ilowermyheadtothegraveandspeakthetruthaloud:“I’mpregnant.”

46CASSIE

BEN’SDEAD.Heleftus,sayinghe’dberightback.Buthehasn’tcomerightback.Hehasn’tcomebackatall.IhuddleinthefarcornerofthebasementwithSamandMegan.I’vegotarifle,Megan’sgotBear,

andSam’sgotanattitude.Grace’sguncollectionissixfeetaway.Somanyprettyshinythings,Samcanhardlycontainhimself.Themostdelightfulthinghe’sdiscoveredaboutshootingsomeoneishowridiculouslyeasyitis.Tyingyourshoesisharder.

Igrabaheavywoolblanketfromthestackbesidetheworkbenchandthrowitoverallthreeofthem,Sams,Megs,andBear.

“I’mnotcold!”hecries—Sam,notBear.“Itisn’tforwarmth,”Imutterathim.Istarttoexplain,butthewordspeteroutintomeaningless

dribble.WhathappenedtoEvan?WhathappenedtoBen?WhathappenedtoRinger?Findingouttheanswertoanyofthosequestionswouldrequiremetorisefromthisfloor,crossthelengthofthisbasement,climbthosestairs,andpossiblyshootsomeoneorbeshotmyself,allofwhichcallsforsomethingIhaven’tgotrightnow.Lasttime,Mayfly.Ipromise.Oh,thatstupid,gag-worthypetname.Ishouldhavecalledhimsomethingequallydemeaningand

cloying.Sharkboyisagoodone.Jawsie.Thewoodenstairscreak.Istayput.Cassiopeia’slaststand.Ihaveafullmagazineandaheartfull

ofhate;youdon’tneedmuchofanythingelse.Besideme,Samhisses,“Cassie,it’sZombie.”Sureenough.Clumpingawkwardlyandbadlyoffbalance,too,likearealzombie.He’soutof

breathbythetimehereachesthebottom.Heleansagainstthewall,lipsparted,facedrainedofcolor.“Well?”Icallacrosstheroomathim.“Didyoufindhim?”Heshakeshishead.Heglancesupthestairs.Helooksbackatme.“Chopper,”hesays.“Whataboutthechopper?Evanblewitup?”Stupidquestion.Iwouldhaveheardit.“Hegotonit.”Benneedstosit.Awoundlikehishurtslikeamother;Ishouldknow.Whywon’thesit?Whyishe

hangingtherebythestairs?“Whatdoyoumean,hegotonit?”“Imeanhegotonit.Theytookhim,Cassie.”Anotherlookupthestairs,soIaskhimwhyhekeeps

lookingupthestairs.Hegoes,“Therewasastriketeam...”

“There’sastriketeam?”“Therewasastriketeam.”Hewipesthebackofhishandacrosshismouth.“Notanymore.”His

voiceshakes—andIdon’tthinkit’sfromthepainorthecold.BenParishappearstobescaredshitless.“Ringer?”Duh,Sullivan,whoelse?“Ringer.”Henods.Thenglancesagaintopside.That’swhenIstandup.Sam,too.Itellhimtostay.Hetells

meno.Benholdsupahand.“There’sanexplanation,Cassie.”“I’msurethereis.”“Youneedtohearherout.”“Orwhat?Shesnapsmyneckwithhersuper-ninjapowers?Ben,what’sthematterwithyou?She

broughtthemtous.”“Yougottatrustmeonthis.”“No,youneedtotrustme.Itoldyoubeforesheleft—there’ssomethingnotrightabouther.Now

she’sbackandthere’ssomethingreallynotright.Whatelsedoyouneed,Ben?Whatdoesshehavetodoforyoutoacceptthefactsheisn’tonyourside?”

“Cassie...”Tryingveryhardtokeepittogether.“Iwantyoutoputdownthatweapon...”“That’snotgoingtohappen.”Tryingveryhardtobepatient.“Iwon’tletyouhurther,Cassie.”AndSamgoes,“Zombie’sthesarge.Youhavetodowhathesays.”Thestairscreakagain.Ringerstopshalfwaydown.She’snotlookingatme;she’slookingatBen.

Forahorriblesecond,Ithinkaboutshootingthemboth,grabbingSamandMegan,andrunninguntilwerunoutoflandtorunon.Pickingsides,decidingwhoyoucantrust,decidingwhat’struthandwhat’snot,youreachapointwherechuckingitallseemsliketheleastintolerableoption.Likepeoplewhocommitsuicide,youjustgetsickofthehassle.

“It’sallright,”Bensaystoherormaybetomeormaybetobothofus.“It’sgoingtobefine.”“Sheleavesthegunonthestairs,”Icallover.Ringerdropsherriflerightaway.WhyamInotcomforted?Thenshedescendstothelaststepand

sits.

47THERE’SBEENASHITLOADofhuh?momentssincetheOtherscame,butthisonehasgottabethehuh-estofthemall.

Afterthefirstgo-around,IfigureImustbemissingsomething,soIaskRingertoexplainherselfagain,slowerthistime,withalittlemoredetailandalotmoreevidence.

“Theyaren’there,”shesays.“I’mnotevensurethey’rethere.”Withanodtowardthebasementceiling—andtheunseenskybeyond.

“Howcouldtheynotbethere?”Benwonders.Therehegoesagain,deferringtoherlikethemealymouthiestcourtierinQueenRinger ’scourt.I’mstartingtowonderaboutBen’sabilitytojudgecharacter.Sincethiswarbegan,he’sbeenshottwice—bothtimesbythepersonwhoclaimedtobeonhisside.

“Themothershipcouldbecompletelyautomated,”Ringerexplains.“Obviouslysomeformofsentientlifebuiltit,butthebuildersthemselvescouldbelight-yearsfromhere—ornowhere.”

“Nowhere?”Benechoes.“Dead.Extinct.”“Sure,whynot?”I’mfiddlingwiththeboltcatchofmyM16.Benmightstilltrustheraftershelied

aboutTeacupandwhereshewasandwhathappenedwhileshewasthere,plusherdeliveringanassassintoourdoorstep,plusbeingshotbyher,twice;I’mnotsogobsmackedbyherfemininecharm,which,bytheway,youcouldfitontheheadofapinandstillleaveroomforangelstodance.“Acouplethousandyearsago,theirprobesfindus.Theywatch.Theywait.Atsomepointtheyfigureoutwe’renogoodfortheEarthorourselves,sotheybuildthemothershipandloaditdownwithbombsanddronesandviralplagueandproceedtowipeoutninety-ninepointninepercentofthepopulationwiththehelpofhumanthrallswho’vebeenbrainwashedsincebirth...becausethat’sourmedicine,that’swhatgoodforus—”

“Cassie,”Bensays.“Takeabreath.”“That’sonescenario,”Ringersayscalmly.“Actually,it’sthebest-casescenario.”IshakemyheadandlookoveratSamandMeganhuddledunderabigblanketinthecorner.

Incredibly,bothhavefallenasleep,theirheadspressedtogether,Beartuckedbeneaththeirchins,inatableauthatwouldbecutebeyondwordsifitwasn’tsoheartbreakinglysymbolicofsomething.Well,ofeverything.

“JustlikeyourSilencertheory,”Isnapather.“Acomputerprogramdownloadedintofetusesthatbootsupwhenthekidhitspuberty.Ascenario.”

“No,that’safact.Voschconfirmedit.”“Right.Themaniacwhoorchestratedthemurderofsevenbillionpeople.Well,sure,ifhesaidit,

thenitmustbetrue.”“WhyelsewouldhewantWalkersobadly?”

“Oh,Idon’tknow.MaybebecauseEvanbetrayedhisentirecivilizationandistheonepersonontheplanetwhocanstopthem?”

RingerislookingatmelikeI’msomethingdisgustingshefoundgrowingonhertoothbrush.“Ifthat’sallthereistoit,yourboyfriendwouldbedeadrightnow.”

“Hecouldbedeadrightnow.Itkillsmehowyouclaimtoknowsomuchdespitethefactthatyoudon’tknowmuchatall.Theories,scenarios,possibilities,odds,whatever.Andforyourinformation,justsoyouknow,andthisisnosuppositionbasedonthetheorythatI-am-Ringer-ergo-I-know-all,heisn’tmyboyfriend.”

Myfaceishot.I’mthinkingofthenightIlandedontheshoresofEvanlandandplantedmyflaguponthatsculptedbeach.Bensayssomethingatthatpoint,whichItotallymiss,becausemymindhasawayofscoldingitsownthoughts.Like,howcouldIbetheflag-planter?Shouldn’tthatbeEvan?

“Evanishuman,”Ringerinsists.“Hispurposeisobvious.Whatisn’tsoobvious—andwhyVoschneedstodeconstructhisprogramming—iswhattriggeredEvan’smindtorebel.Hedidn’tjustbetrayhis‘people.’Hebetrayedhimself.”

“Well,”Bensighs,“that’sfuckedup.”Heshiftshisweightagainstthewall,tryingtofindamorecomfortableposition.That’snotpossiblewithabulletinyourleg.Believeme,I’vetried.“SotherearenoescapepodscomingtoevactheSilencers,”Bensaysslowly.“Nopods,sonowaytothemothership.Nowaytothemothership,sonowaytoblowitup.Shootsthatplanalltohell.Whataboutbombingthecities?Oristhataliehisprogrammingtoldhim,too?”

Ringerdoesn’tanswerforalongtime.Ihavenocluewhatshe’sthinking.ThenIstartthinkingmaybethiswholedealisatrick—ofVosch’s.SomethinghappenedtoRingeraftershecheckedoutoftheWalkerHotel.Somebodyimplantedherwithbionicsthatturnedherintoapart-human,part-machineweaponofmassdestruction.Howdoweknowshehasn’tflippedtotheotherside?AcertainBrawny-paper-towel-lookingguydid.Howdoweknowshewasn’talwaysontheotherside?

Mythumb’sworkingthatboltcatchagain.“Ithinktheyaregoingtobombthecities,”shefinallysays.“Why?”Idemand.“What’sthepoint?”“Alotofreasons.Forone,itevenstheplayingfieldbeforethelaunchofthe5thWave—urban

combatgivestheSilencerseveryadvantage,andyoucan’ttipfavortoofartooneside.Butthemostimportantreasoniscitiesholdourmemories.”

Whaaaaa?ThenIgetit,andgettingitmakesmystomachhurt.Myfatherandthatdamnedwagonandthosedamnedbooks.Libraries,museums,universities,everythingwedesignedandbuiltoversixthousandyears.Citiesaremorethanthesumoftheirinfrastructure.Theytranscendbrickandmortar,concreteandsteel.They’rethevesselsintowhichhumanknowledgeispoured.BlowingthemupwillbethefinalresetoftheclockbacktotheNeolithic.

“Notenoughtoreducethepopulationtoasustainablelevel,”Ringersayssoftly.“Notenoughtolevelwhatwebuilt.We’llrepopulate.We’llrebuild.Tosavetheplanet,tosaveourspecies,theyhavetochangeus.”Shetouchesherchest.“Here.IftheOtherscantakeawaytrust,theytakeawaycooperation.Takeawaycooperation,andcivilizationisimpossible.”

48“OKAY,”BENSAYS.Timetogetdowntothegnarlynubofit.“Noonthepodsbutyesonthebombs.Whichmeanswecan’tstayhere—tooclosetoUrbana.That’sfinewithme,becauseIreallyfuckinghateUrbana.Sowhere?South?Myvoteissouth.Findasourceoffreshwater,milesfromanywhere,asinthemiddleofnowhere.”

“And?”Ringerasks.“Andwhat?”“Andwhatthen?”“Whatthen?”“Yes.Afterwegettonowhere,thenwhat?”Benliftsahand.Letsitfall.Hismouthcurlsintoasmile.Helookssoboyishlycuteinthismoment

thatIfeellikeburstingintotears.“There’sfiveofus.Isayweformaband.”Ilaughoutloud.SometimesBen’slikeabracingmountainstreamIdipmytoeinto.“Anyway,”BensaysaftertwosecondsofRingerstaringblanklyathim.“Whatthehellelsearewe

goingtodo?”Helooksather.Helooksatme.“OhChrist,Sullivan,”hemoans,tappingthebackofhisheadagainstthewall.“Don’tevengo

there.”“Hecameforme,”Itellhim.HeknowsI’mthinkingit,soImightaswellsayit.We’rebothalittle

surprisedthatI’vegonethere.“Hesavedyourlife—twice.Hesavedminethreetimes.”“Ben’sright,”Ringerbuttsin.“It’ssuicide,Sullivan.”Irollmyeyes.I’veheardthisshitbefore—fromEvanWalkerhimself,whenherealizedIwas

bullingmywayintoadeathcamptofindmybabybrother.WhymustIalwaysbetheisleofcrazyaloneinanoceanofsensibility?Theshouldtoeverybodyelse’sshouldn’t?TheI-willtotheirbetter-nots?

“Stayinghereissuicide,too,”Iargue.“Soisrunningtonowhere.Anythingwedonowissuicide.We’reatthepointinthestorywherewehavetochoose,Ringer—ameaningfuldeath,orasenselessone.Besides,”Iadd,“he’ddoitforus.”

“No,”Bensaysquietly.“Hewoulddoitforyou.”“Thebasethey’retakinghimtoisoverahundredmilesaway,”Ringersays.“Evenifyoureached

it,youwon’treachitintime.VoschwillbefinishedwithhimandEvanwillbedead.”“Youdon’tknowthat.”“Idoknowthat.”“No,yousayyouknowthat,butyoudon’treallyknowthat,justlikeyoudon’tknoweverything

elseyousayyouknow,butwe’rejustsupposedtobelieveitbecause,hell,you’rejustbrilliantlittleyou.”

AndBengoes,“Huh?”“Whateverwedo,”RingersayscoollytoBen,asifnothingIjustsaidwasn’tamajor-league

smackdown,“stayingisnotanoption.Assoonasthatchopperdeliversitscargo,it’scomingback.”“Cargo?”Benasks.“ShemeansEvan,”Itranslate.“Whywouldit...?”Thenhegetsit.Ringer ’svictimsburieddowntheroad.Thechopper ’s

comingbacktoextractthestriketeam.“Oh.”Hewipesthebackofhishandacrosshismouth.“Crap.”AndI’mthinking,Hey.Chopper!andRingeriswatchingmeandthinkingsheknowswhatI’m

thinking,whichshedoes,butthatdoesn’tproveshe’salwaysright.“Forgetit,Sullivan.”“Forgetwhat?”AndrightawayIacknowledgemycoyness:“Youdidit.Oratleastyousaidyou

didit.”“Didwhat?”Benasks.“Thatwasdifferent,”Ringersays.“Differenthow?”“Differentinthatthepilotwasinonit.My‘escape’fromVoschwasn’tanescape;itwasatestof

the12thSystem.”“Well,wecanpretendthisisatest,too,ifthathelps.”“Pretendwhatisatest?”Ben’svoicerisesanoctaveinhisfrustration.“Whatthehellareyoutwo

talkingabout?”Ringersighs.“ShewantstohijacktheBlackHawk.”Ben’smouthdropsopen.Idon’tknowwhatorwhyitis,butwhenhe’saroundRinger,thesmart

drainsoutofhimlikespaghettiwaterthroughacolander.“Whatabouthim?”RingernodstowardSams.“He’scoming,too?”“That’syourbusiness?”Iask.“Well,I’mnotbabysittingwhileyougoallDonQuixoteonthis.”“Youknow,makingobscureliteraryreferencesdoesn’timpressme.Andyes,Ihappentoknow

whoDonQuixoteis.”“Okay,waitaminute,”Bensays.“He’sfromTheGodfather,right?”Straight-faced,soI’mnotsure

ifhe’sjoking.Backintheday,therewasserioustalkaboutBenbecomingaRhodesScholar.Nolie.“You’regonnamakeVoschanofferhecan’trefuse?”

“Bencanstaywiththekids,”IinformRinger,asifI’vethoughtitallout,asiftheplanforrescuingEvanhasbeenintheworksformonths.“Wego,justyouandme.”

She’sshakingherhead.“WhywouldIdothat?”“Whywouldn’tyoudothat?”Shestiffensandthen,forsomeunclearreason,shelooksoveratBen.SoIlookoveratBen,and

Benislookingstraightdownatthefloorlikehe’sneverseenonebefore.Whatisthisamazinghardsurfaceundermyfeet?

“Howaboutthis.”Iwon’tstoptrying.Whywon’tIstop?Itrytostop,andthenIfail.“Forgetme.ForgetEvan.Doitforyourself.”

“Myself?”She’sgenuinelypuzzled.Ha!Foronceshecan’tpretendsheknowswhatI’mthinking.“He’sfinishedwithyou.He’sdone.Soyouhavetogotohimifyouwanttoendit.”Ringerrecoilslikesomebodyslappedher.Shewantstopretendshedoesn’tknowwhoI’mtalking

about.Fatchance.

Isawitinherfacewhenshetoldthestory.Ihearditinhervoice.Betweenthefrownsandlongsilences,itwasthere.Whenshesaidhisnameandwhenshecouldn’tbringherselftosayhisname,itwasthere:He’sthereasonshehasn’tgivenup,whyshehangson,herraisond’être.

Thethingworthdyingfor.“Voschthinksyou’regoingtozig—soyouzag.Hethinksyou’regoingtorunaway—soyourun

toward.Youcan’tundowhathe’sdone,butyoucanundohim.”“Itwon’tsolveanything,”shewhispers.“Probablynot.Buthe’llbedead.There’sthat.”Iholdoutmyhand.I’mnotsurewhy.Itreallyisn’tmydealtomakebecauseIcan’tpromisefinal

deliveryofthegoods.Thatlittle,rational,calm,ancient,wisevoiceinmyheadchirps,She’sright,it’ssuicide,Cassie.Evan’sgoneandthistimethere’llbenomiracles.Lethimgo.

MyplaceiswithSam;it’salwaysbeenwithSam.Samismyraisond’être.NotsomedelusionalOhiofarmboycrazyallthewaydowntothebottomofhisbones.Jesus,ifRingerisright,evenEvan’slovemaybepartofthecrazy.Hethinkshe’sinlovewithmelikehethinkshe’sanOther.

Sowhat’sthedifferencebetweenthinkingitandactuallybeingit?Isthereadifference?TherearetimesIhatemyownbrain.“Thedead,”Ringersaysinavoicethatreflectstheword:nothingthere,gone,empty.“Icamehere

tokilloneinnocentperson.Ikilledfive.IfIgoback,I’llkilluntilIlosecount.I’llkilluntilcountingdoesn’tmatter.”Sheisn’tlookingatme.She’slookingatBen.“Andit’llbeeasy.”Sheturnstome.“Youdon’tunderstand.Iamwhathemademe.”

Iwishshe’dcry.Iwanthertoshout,scream,shakeherfist,punchsomething,howluntilhervoicegaveout.Anythingwouldbebetterthanthescooped-out,emptywayshetalked.Whatshesaiddidn’tmatchhowshesaidit,andthat’sscary.

“Andintheend,we’llbothfail,”shetellsme.“EvanwilldieandVoschwilllive.”Shetakesmyhandanyway.Evenscarier.

49BYTHISPOINT,Benhasreachedtheendofhisendurance—physicalandmental.Hecan’tremainstandinganylongerorkeepupwiththisverystrange,veryquickturnabout,fromShe’satraitor!toShe’smypartner!Hehopsovertothestairsandlowershimselfdown,stretchinghisbadlegoutinfrontofhim.Hestaresattheceiling,strokingtheundersideofhischin.

“Ringer,maybeyoubettergetupthereagain.Incaseyoumissedsomebody.”Sheshakesherheadandhershinyblackhairswingsbackandforth,asilkyobsidiancurtain.“I

didn’tmissanybody.”“Well.Incasesomebodyelsecomesalong.”“Likewho?”Hisheadturnsslowlyinherdirection.“Badpeople.”Shelooksatme.Thenshenods.Shestepsaroundhimandstoopshalfwayuptoretrieveherrifle.I

hearherwhisper,“Don’t,”tohim,beforedisappearingfromview.Don’t?“Whatisitwithyoutwo?”Iask.“What’swhat?”“Thelittlelooks.The‘don’t’justnow.”“It’snothing,Cassie.”“Nothingwouldbenolittlelooksandno‘don’ts.’”Heshrugs,thenglancesupthestairstotheholethatopenedtobareskywherethehouseusedtobe.

“Nogettingthere,”hesays.Hesmilesasifhe’sembarrassedforsayingsomethingstupid.“Nomatterhowwellyouknowsomeone,there’sstillapartofthemyouwon’t.Youcan’t.Like,ever.Alockedroom.Idon’tknow.”Heshakeshisheadandlaughs.Thelaughcollapsesthemomentit’sborn.

“WithRinger,that’smorelikealltheroomsintheLouvre,”Ipointout.Benhaulshimselftohisfeetandlimpsovertome,usinghisrifleasacrutch.Bythetimehe

arrives,hisfaceisastudyinexhaustionandpain.Thereyougo.ParishhealsupfromoneRinger-inflictedwound,soshegiveshimanother.Gottakeepthestreakgoing.

“Haveyoulostyourmind?”heasks.“Whatdoyouthink?”“Ithinkyouhave.”“Howcanyoutell?”I’mfullyconfidenthewon’tunderstandmyquestion.“TheCassieSullivanIknowwouldneverleaveherlittlebrother.”“MaybeI’mnottheCassieSullivanyouknow.”“Soyou’rejustgonnaleavehim—”“Withyou.”“Maybeyouhaven’tnoticed,butwhenitcomestoprotectingpeople,Isuck.”“It’snotaboutyou,Parish.”

Heslidesdownthewallbesideme.Takesafewdeepbreaths.Thenheblurtsout,“Let’sgetreal,okay?Shewon’tgettoVoschandyouwon’tgettoEvan.Thatpart’sdone.Timeforthenextpart.”

“Thenextpart?”“Them.”HenodstowardSammyandMegancurledbeneaththeblanket.“It’salwaysbeenabout

them,fromdayone.Theenemyalwaysknewit.Thereallysadandfreakypartiswhyit’sbeensoeasyforustoforget.”

“Ihaven’tforgotten,”Itellhim.“WhydoyouthinkI’mgoing?Thisisn’taboutEvanWalker.Anditisn’taboutyouorme.IfRingerisright,Evan’sourlasthope.”Ilookatmybabybrother ’sface,angelicinsleep.“Hislasthope.”

“ThenI’llgowithRinger.Youstayhere.”Ishakemyhead.“You’rebroken.I’mnot.”“Bullshit.Icangetaround...”“I’mnottalkingaboutyourleg.”Heflinches.Hisjawtightens.“That’snotfair,Cassie.”“I’mnotworriedaboutfair.Thisisn’taboutfair.Thisisabouttheodds.Andrisk.Thisisaboutmy

brotherlivingtoseenextChristmas.ItwouldbegreatifthereweresomeoneIcouldtagtodoitforme,butI’mit,Parish.It’sdowntome.BecauseI’mstillthere,Ben,underthatcaronthehighway—InevergotoutandInevergotup.I’mstilltherewaitingforthebogeymantocomegetme.AndifIrunnow,anywhereornowhere,he’sgoingtofindme.He’sgoingtofindSam.”ItugBearfromtheblanketandhughimtomychest.“Idon’tcareaboutwhetherEvanWalkerisanalienorahumanoranalien-humanorafreakingturnip.Idon’tcareaboutyourbaggageorRinger ’sbaggage,andIespeciallydon’tcareaboutmybaggage.Theworldexistedforaverylongtimebeforethisparticularsetofsevenbillionbillionatomscamealong,anditwillgorightonafterthey’rescatteredup,down,andsideways.”

Benreachesoutandtouchesmywetcheek.Ipushhishandaway.“Don’ttouchme.”YouHas-Ben.YouWhat-Might-Have-Ben.

“Look,Cassie.I’mnotyourbossandI’mnotyourdaddy.Ican’tstopyouanymorethanyoucouldhavestoppedmefromgoingtothecaves.”

IpressmyfaceintothetopofBear ’srattyoldhead.Bearsmellslikesmokeandsweatanddirtandmylittlebrother.“Helovesyou,Ben.Morethanme,Ithink.Butthat—”

“Nottrue,Cassie.”“Don’t.Interrupt.Me.That’s,like,oneofmythings.Justsoyouknow.AndnowIwouldliketosay

something.”“Okay.”“ThereissomethingI’dliketosay.”“I’mlistening.”Lookingaway.Lookingatnothing.Deepbreath.Don’tsayit,Cass.What’sthepointnow?Thereis

nopoint.Maybethat’ssomethingwebothneedtounderstand.“I’vehadacrushonyousincethethirdgrade,”Iwhisper.“Iwroteyournameinnotebooks.Idrew

heartsaroundit.Idecorateditwithflowers.Mostlydaisies.Ihaddaydreamsanddream-dreams,andnobodyknewexceptmybestfriend.Whoisdead.Likeeverybodyelse.”

Lookingaway.Lookingatnothing.“ButyouwerewhereyouwereandIwaswhereIwas.YoucouldhavebeeninChinaforallitmattered.WhenyoushowedupoutofnowhereatSammy’scamp—Ithoughtithadtomeansomething.Becauseyoulivedwhenyoushouldhavedied,andIlivedwhenIshouldhavedied,andwewereboththereforSam,whoalsoshouldhavedied.Just—justtoomany

coincidencestobejustacoincidence,youknow?Butthat’sallitis,acoincidence.There’snodivineplan.There’snothingfatedinourstars.Nomeant-to-beinanyofit.Weareaccidentalpeopleoccupyinganaccidentalplanetinanaccidentaluniverse.Andthat’sokay.Thesesevenbillionbillionatomsaregoodwiththat.”

Ipressmylipsontothatnastystuffedanimal’shead.ReallyneatthathumanbeingsconqueredtheEarth,inventedpoetryandmathematicsandthecombustionengine,discoveredthattimeandspacearerelative,builtmachinesbigandsmalltoferryustothemoonforsomerocksorcarryustoMcDonald’sforastrawberry-bananasmoothie.VerycoolwesplittheatomandbestowedupontheEarththeInternetandsmartphonesand,ofcourse,theselfiestick.

Butthemostwonderfulthingofall,ourhighestachievementandtheonethingforwhichIpraywewillalwaysberemembered,isstuffingwadsofpolyesterintoananatomicallyincorrect,cartoonishidealofoneofnature’smostfearsomepredatorsfornootherreasonthantosootheachild.

50THEREAREPREPARATIONStomake.Detailstoworkout.

First,I’llneedauniform.BensitswiththekidswhileRingerandIdigupthebodies.There’sthesmallestrecruit,whoseuniformseemsliketherightsize,butthere’sabulletholeinthebackofthejacket.Mightbehardtoexplain.Ringerhaulsoutthenextbody,whosedudsaredirtybutunmarredbybulletholesandnearlyblood-free.Sheexplainsthatshecrushedhisskullwithatwenty-inchsteelrim.Hedidn’tfeelit,sheassuresme.Didn’tseeitcoming.It’sokay.Ifeelmygorgerise.It’sokay.Ichangerighttherebythesideoftheroadunderthenakedsky.Ha.Nakedsky.AndthereisCassiopeiaaboveme,chainedtoherchair,watchinghernamesakebareherselfandthedeadboy,too.IcatchRingerlookingathim,andherfaceisevenpalerthanusual.Ifollowhergazetothekid’sarm,wherecruddy-lookingscabsglisteninthestarlight.Whatarethose?Letters?

“Whatisthat?”Iaskwhilerollingupthepantlegs;they’reagoodfourinchestoolong.“It’sLatin,”sheanswers.“Itmeans‘heconquerswhoendures.’”“Whyisitcutintohisarmlikethat?”Sheshakesherhead.Herhandwanderstoherownshoulder.ShethinksIdon’tnotice.“Youhaveone,too,don’tyou?”“No.”Shekneelsbesidetheboy,hiscombatknifeinherhand.Sheslicesalongthetinyscaronthe

backofhisneckandgingerlydigsthetrackingdevicefromthecut.“Here.Putthisinyourmouth.”“Likefuck.”Shecupsitinthepalmofherhandandspitsonit.Rollstherice-sizedpelletaroundinherspitto

cleanofftheblood.“Better?”“Inwhatwaycouldthatpossiblybebetter?”Shegrabsmyhandanddepositsthegooeypelletintomypalm.“Youcleanit,then.”Ilaceupthebootsasshecutsintoanotherkid’sneck,dipsoutthetrackerwiththetipoftheknife,

thenslidesthebladebetweenherlips.Thereissomethingmatter-of-factlysavageaboutit,andherwordsechoinmyhead:Iamwhathemademe.

51PREPARATIONS.DETAILS.

I’llneedgear,butonlywhatIcanfitintothepocketsandpouchesoftheuniform.Extramagazinesfortherifleandsidearm,aknife,apenlight,acoupleofgrenades,twobottlesofwater,andthreepowerbars,atBen’sinsistence.Parishhasthisweird,superstitiousfaithinpowerbars,whichistotallybogus,unlikemybeliefinthetalismanicforceofteddybears.

“Whatifyou’rewrong?”IaskRinger.“Whatifnobodycomeslookingforthestriketeam?”Sheshrugs.“Thenwe’rescrewed.”Sobrightandcheerful.Sucharayofsunshine.IwakeSamandMeganandmakethemeatwhile

BenandRingerprepfortheassaultoutside.Something’supbetweenthosetwo.Somethingthey’rekeepingfromme.KindofmakesmewishIhadEvan’soldmind-miningabilities.I’dplungeintoBenParish’sheadandhackmywaytothetruth.IthoughtIbustedRingerwiththatpartofherSilencers-are-ordinary-people-like-us-only-more-sotheory.HowdidEvan’sspiritenterandmixwithmineifhe’shuman?Heranswerrequiredadvanceddegreesinrobotics,bionics,andelectromagneticphysicstounderstand.TheCPUattachedtohisbraininterpretingmyphysiologicalbiofeedback,creatinganinformationalloopinwhichmydatacommingledwithhis,blah,blah,blah.Really,scienceiswonderful,butwhydoesittendtosuckallthejoyousmysteryfromtheworld?Lovemaybenothingmorethanacomplexinteractionofhormones,conditionedbehavior,andpositivereinforcement,buttrywritingapoemorsongaboutthat.

Preparations.Details.IbriefSamandMegsontheplan.Sam’sallin.Althoughinfiltratingthebasewouldbehistop

choice,atleasthe’llhavesomequalitytimewithhisbelovedZombie.Megandoesn’tsayawordandI’mworriedshemightbalkatthecriticalmoment.Can’tblameher,though.Thelasttimeshetrustedgrown-ups,theystuffedabombdownherthroat.

IhandBeartoSamforsafekeeping,Sam’sasmuchasthebear ’s.HehandsitovertoMegan.OhJesus.ToobigforBearnow;theygrowupsofast.

Blankets,Itellthem.EverybodyexceptRingergetsablanket.Thenthere’snothinglefttodobutclimbthestairsonelasttime.ItakeSammy’shand,SammytakesMegan’s,MegantakesBear ’s,andtogetherwerisetowardthe

surface.Thestairsjiggleandmoan.Theymaycollapse.Wewon’t.

52ZOMBIE

IWATCHASRingercarriesthelasttwobodiesintothebayoftheoldgarage,oneundereacharm.Iunderstandhowthat’spossible;still,it’salittlefreakytowatch.Iwaitbytheemptygraveforhertocomeout.Itdoesn’thappen.Oh,boy.Nowwhat?

Insidethegaragethesmellofgasolineandgreasebringshomethepast.BeforetherewasZombie,therewasthiskidnamedBenParishwhoworkedoncarswithhisoldmanonSaturdayafternoons,thelastbeingacherry-red’69Corvette,hisseventeenthbirthdaypresentfromhisdad,aguywhoreallycouldn’tafforditandpretendeditwasforhisonlyson,buttheybothknewthetruth.Ben’sbirthdaywasanexcusetobuythecar,andthecarwasanexcusetospendtimewithhissonastheclockwounddowntograduationandthencollegeandthengrandkidsandthentheretirementhomeandthenthegrave.Thegraveleaptunexpectedlytothefrontoftheline,notbeforethecar,though;atleastforafewSaturdayafternoons,theyhadthatcar.

She’dlaidhervictimssidebysideinthecenterofthebay,crossingeachone’sarmsacrosstheirchest.Ringerherselfisnowhereinsight.Forasecond,Ipanic.EverytimeIexpectazig,there’sazag.Ishiftmyweighttomygoodleganddroptheriflefrommyshoulderintomyhands.

Fromthedeepshadowsintheback,alow-pitchedwhinepunctuatedbyasnuffling.Ilimppastrowsoftoolboxesandaclusterofoildrums,behindwhichIfindher,sittingagainstthecinder-blockwall,huggingherkneestoherchest.

Ican’tstayupright;thepain’stoomuch.Isitbesideher.Shewipeshercheeks.It’sthefirsttimeI’veseenRingercry.I’veneverseenhersmileandprobablyneverwill,butnowI’veseenhercry.That’smessedup.

“Youdidn’thaveachoice,”Itellher.Diggingupthosebodiesmusthavegottentoher.“And,anyway,theydon’tknowthedifference,right?”

Sheshakesherhead.“Oh,Zombie.”“Itisn’ttoolate,Ringer.Wecancallitoff.Sullivancan’tdothiswithoutyou.”“She’dhavenothingtodoifyouhadn’tsteppedinfrontofWalkerlikethat.”“MaybeIwouldn’thaveifyou’dtrustedmewiththetruth.”“Thetruth,”sheechoes.“Theimportantwordhereistrusted.”“Itrustyou,Zombie.”“Funnywayofshowingit.”Sheshakesherhead.ThatdumbZombie,wrongagain.“Iknowyouwon’ttell.”

Shestretchesoutherlegs,andaplasticcontainerflopsfromherchestontoherthighs.Thebrightgreenliquidinsideitsloshes.It’sajugofantifreeze.

“Acapfulshouldbeenough,”shesays,sosoftlyIdon’tthinkthewordsaredirectedatme.“The12thSystem—it’llprotectme.Protectme...”

Igrabthejugfromherlap.“Goddamnit,Ringer,youdidn’talreadydrinkthis,didyou?”“Givethatback,Zombie.”Iletoutmybreath.I’lltakethatasano.“Youtoldmewhathappenedbutyoudidn’ttellmehow.”“Well.Youknow.”Shetwirlsahandintheair.“Theusualway.”Okay.Ideservedthat.“HisnamewasRazor.”Shefrowns.“No.HisnamewasAlex.”“TherecruitwhoshotTeacup.”“Forme.SoIcouldescape.”“TheonewhohelpedVoschsetyouup.”“Yes.”“AndthenVoschkindofsetthetwoofyouup.”ShegivesmethepatentedimpassiveRingerstare.“Whatdoesthatmean?”“Voschlefthimwithyouthatnight.HemusthaveknownRazorhad...thatleavingthetwoofyou

alonemightleadto...”“That’scrazy,Zombie.IfVoschthoughtthatforasecond,heneverwouldhaveleftAlextoguard

me.”“Howcome?”“Becauseloveisthemostdangerousweaponintheworld.It’smoreunstablethanuranium.”Iswallow.Mythroatisdry.“Love.”“Yes,love.CanIhavethatbacknow?”“No.”“Icouldtakeitfromyou.”She’sstaringatmeacrossaspacenothickerthanafistwitheyesonly

slightlylighterthanthedarkaroundthem.“Iknowyoucould.”Itense.Ihaveafeelingshecouldknockmeoutwithaflickofherlittlefinger.“YouwanttoknowifIlovedhim.Youwanttoaskmethat,”shesays.“It’snoneofmybusiness.”“Idon’tloveanyone,Zombie.”“Well,that’sokay.You’restillyoung.”“Stopthat.Stoptryingtomakemesmile.It’scruel.”There’saknifetwistinginmygut.Thepainmakesthebulletwoundfeellikeamosquitobite.For

whateverreason,wheneverI’maroundthisgirl,painfollows,andnotjustthephysicalvariety.Beingintimatelyacquaintedwithbothkinds,I’dratherbeshotadozentimesthanhavemyhearttorninhalf.

“You’reaprick,”sheinformsme.Shepullsthejugfrommyhands.“Ialwaysthoughtso.”Sheunscrewsthecapandfillsithalfwaytothelip.Theliquidshimmersaneongreen.Theircolor.

“Thisiswhatthey’vedone,Zombie.Thisistheworldthey’vemade,wheregivinglifeiscruelerthantakingit.Iambeingkind.Iambeingwise.”

Sheraisesthecuptowardherlips.Herhandshakes;thebrightgreenfluidsloshesovertheedgeandrunsoverherfingers.Andinhereyesthesamedarknessthatfloodsmycore.

Shedoesn’tpullawaywhenIwrapmyfingersaroundherwrist.Shedoesn’tunleashherenhancementuponmeandtearmyheadoffmyshoulders.SheoffershardlyanyresistancewhenI

forceherhanddown.“I’mlost,Zombie.”“I’llfindyou.”“Ican’tmove.”“I’llcarryyou.”Shetopplessidewaysintome.Iwrapmyarmsaroundher.Icupherface;Irunmyfingersthrough

herhair.Thedarknessslips;itcannothold.

53WE’REHEADINGBACKtotheholewhenCassieandthekidsemergefromthebasementofthedemolishedsafehouse,loadeddownwithblankets.

“Zombie,”Nuggetcallsout.Heracesover,thestackofblanketsinhisarmsboppingupanddownasheruns.HepullsupwhenhegetsacloselookatRinger ’sface.Rightawayheknowssomething’swrong;onlydogsreadfacesbetterthanlittlekids.

“Whatisit,Private?”Iask.“Cassiewon’tletmehaveagun.”“I’mworkingonthat.”Hisfacescrewsup.He’sdubious.Ipokehiminthearmwithaloosefistandadd,“LemmeburyRingerfirst.Thenwe’lltalkabout

weapons.”Cassiecomesup,halfleading,halfdraggingMeganbythewrist.Ihopeshehangsontight.Ihave

afeelingifsheletsgo,thatgirl’stakingoff.Ringerjerksherheadtowardthegarage,inthere,andsays,“Tenminutestillthechopper.”

“Howdoyouknow?”Sullivanasks.“Icanhearit.”Cassieshootsmealookaccompaniedbyaraisedeyebrow.Getthat?Shesaysshecanhearit.

Whileallanyoneelsecanhearisthewinddrivingoverthebarrenfields.“What’sthehosefor?”sheasksme.“SoIdon’tblackoutorsuffocate,”Ringeranswers.“Ithoughtyouwere—whatdidyoucallit?—enhanced.”“Iam.ButIstillneedoxygen.”“Likeashark,”Cassiesays.Ringernods.“Likethat.”Sullivanleadsthekidsintothegarage.Ringerdropsintotheholeandliesflatonherbackinthe

dirt.Ipickuptheriflewhereshedroppeditandlowerittowardher.Sheshakesherhead.“Leaveitupthere.”

“Yousure?”Shenods.Herfaceisbathedinstarlight.Icatchmybreath.“What?”sheasks.Ilookaway.“Nothing.”“Zombie.”Iclearmythroat.“It’snotimportant.Ijustthought—foraminutethere—flashedacrossmy

mind...”“Zombie.”

“Okay.You’rebeautiful.That’sall.Imean—youwantedtoknow...”“Yougetsentimentalattheweirdesttimes.Hose.”Idroponeenddown.Shecloseshermouthovertheopeningandgivesmethethumbs-up.Icanhearthechoppernow,faintbutgrowinglouder.Ishovelthedirtoverher,sweepingitinto

theholewithmyrighthandwhileIhangontothehosewithmyleft.Shedoesn’tneedtosaythewords;Icanreadtheminhereyes.Hurry,Zombie.

Thesickeningsoundofthedirthittingherbody.Idecidenottolook.IwatchtheskyasIburyher,grippingtheendofthehosesohard,myknucklesturnwhite.Thenearlyendlessnumberofwaysthiscangowrongracesthroughmymind.Whatifthere’safullsquadonboardthatchopper?Whatifitisn’tjustoneBlackHawkbuttwo?Orthree,orfour?Whatif,whatif,whatif,whatif,whatever.

I’mnotgoingtomakeitbacktothegarageintime.Ringeriscompletelycoverednow,butI’moutintheopenwithashot-uplegandahundredyardstocrossbeforethechopper—whichIcanseesilhouettedagainstthebackdropofstars,ablacknaughtagainsttheglitteringwhite—isinrange.Nevertriedtorunwithabulletinmyleg.Neverhadto.Guessthere’safirsttimeforeverything.

Idon’tmakeitveryfar.Maybeforty-five,fiftyyards.Ipitchforward,landingface-firstinthedirt.Whythehelldidn’tCassieburyRinger?Wouldmakemoresenseformetohunkerdownwiththekids,andbesides,Sullivanwouldprobablyleapatthechance.

Iheavemyselfupright.I’mverticalmaybefiveseconds,andthenI’mdownagain.It’stoolate.Ihavetobewithinrangeoftheirinfraredbynow.

Apairofbootspoundstowardme.Apairofhandshaulmeup.CassiethrowsmyarmaroundherneckandpullsmeforwardasIswingmybadlegaround,hopwithmygoodone,swingthebadone,butshebearsmostoftheload.Whoneedsa12thSystemwhenyouhaveaheartlikeCassieSullivan’s?

WefallintothebayofthegarageandCassiehurlsablanketatme.Thekidsarealreadycovered,andIshout“Notyet!”Theirbodyheatwillgatherbeneaththematerial,defeatingthepurpose.

“Waitformygo,”Itellthem.Then,toCassie:“You’vegotthis.”Incredibly,shesmilesatmeandnods.“Iknow.”

54CASSIE

“NOW!”BENSHOUTS,probablytoolate:Thechopperthundersoverus.Wediveundertheblankets,andIbeginthecountdown.HowwillIknowwhenit’stime?IaskedRinger.Aftertwominutes.Whytwo?Ifwecan’tdoitintwominutes,itcan’tbedone.Whatdidthatmean?Ididn’task,butnowIsuspectthattwoisjustarandomnumbershepulledout

ofherass.Icountitoutanyway....58onethousand,59onethousand,60onethousand...Theoldblanketstinksofmildewandratpiss.Ican’tseeadamnthing.WhatIhear—allIhear—is

thehelicopter,whichsoundslikeit’stwofeetaway.Hasitlanded?Hastherecoveryteambeendeployedtocheckoutthemysteriousmoundofdirtthatlookssuspiciouslylikeagrave?Thequestionsrollacrossthelandscapeofmymindlikeaslow-crawlingfog;it’shardtothinkwhenyou’recounting—maybethat’swhyit’sarecommendedsleepingaid.

...92onethousand,93onethousand,94onethousand...I’mhavingtroublebreathing.ThismayhavesomethingtodowiththefactthatI’mslowly

suffocating.Somewherearound75onethousand,thechopper ’sengineshadrevveddown.Notstopped,justthe

pitchandvolumedipped.Landed?At95onethousand,theenginespickupagain.DoIstayhereuntilRinger ’sarbitrarytwominutesareupordoIlistentothatwiselittlevoicescreechinginmyear,Go,go,go,gonow!

At97onethousand,Igo.Anddamndoestheworldseemblindinglybrightafterburstingfrommywoolencocoon.Clearthebaydoors,sharpright,thenfields,trees,stars,road,andchopper,sixfeetofftheground.Andrising.Crap.BesidetheRinger-hole,awhirlingshadowbythebrokenearthandanothershadowthatmovesso

slowincomparison,itseemsasifitisn’tmovingatall.Ringer ’ssprunghertraponthesearchparty.Sayonara,searchparty!

I’mrunningfullouttowardtheBlackHawk,andthesuppliesinmyuniformmakemefeellikeI’mweigheddownwithbricks,theriflebouncingagainstmyback,and,shit,it’stoofarawayandrising

toofast,pullup,Cassie,pullup,you’renotgoingtomakeit,timeforPlanBonlywedon’thaveaPlanB,andtwominutes,whatwasthat,Ringer?Ifyou’rethetacticalgeniusinthisoperation,thenwe’resototallyscrewed,andthespaceshrinksbetweenmeandthechopperwhileitsnosedipsslightly,andhowgood’syourvertical,Sullivan?

Ileap.Timestops.Thechopperhangssuspendedlikeamobileabovemyfullyextendedbody—evenmytoesarepointed—andthereisnosoundanymoreordraftfromthebladesliftingtheBlackHawkuporpushingmybodydown.

Therewasthislittlegirl—she’sgonenow—withskinnylittlearmsandbonylittlelegsandaheadtoppedwithbouncyredcurlsanda(verystraight)nosewithaspecialtalentonlysheandherdaddyknewabout.

Shecouldfly.Myoutstretchedfingersbangedontheedgeoftheopencargodoorway.Icaughtholdof

somethingcoldandmetallic,andIlockeddownonitwithbothhandsasthechoppersoaredstraightupandthegroundspedawayfrommykickingfeet.Fiftyfeetup,ahundred,andIswaybackandforth,tryingtoswingmyfootontotheplatform.Twohundredfeet,two-fifty,andmyrighthandslips,I’mhangingonwithjusttheleftnow,andthenoiseisdeafening,soIcan’thearmyselfscream.Lookingdown,IseethegarageandthehouseacrossthestreetfromthegarageanddowntheroadtheblacksmudgeofwhereGrace’shouseoncestood.Starlight-bathedfieldsandwoodsshiningsilver-grayandtheroadstretchingfromhorizontohorizon.

I’mgoingtofall.Atleastitwillbequick.Splat,likeabugagainstawindshield.Mylefthandslips;thumb,pinky,andringfingersthrumemptyair;I’mattachedtothechopperby

twofingersnow.Thenthosefingersslideoff,too.

55I’VELEARNEDitispossibletohearyourselfscreamoverthejetenginesofaBlackHawkhelicopterafterall.

Also,itisn’ttruethatyourlifeflashesbeforeyoureyeswhenyou’reabouttodie.TheonlythingsthatflashbeforemineareBear ’seyes,unblinkingplastic,bottomless,soullesslysoulful.

There’sseveralhundredfeettofall.Ifalllessthanone,jerkingtoastopsohard,myshoulder ’snearlyrippedfromitssocket.Icaughtnothingtoaborttheplunge;someonecaughtme,andnowthatsomeoneishaulingmeonboard.

I’mslungfacedownontothefloorofthechopper ’shold.Firstit’slike,I’malive!Thenit’sall,I’mgoingtodie!Becausewhoeverrescuedmeisyankingmeupright,andIhavebasicallythreechoices,fourifyouincludethefalsechoiceofthegun,becausefiringagunwithinthemetalliccocoonofahelicopterisaverybadidea.

I’vegotmyfists,thepepperspraycontainedinoneofthetwenty-ninemillionpocketsofmynewuniform,orthehardest,mostterrifyingweaponinallofCassieSullivan’sformidablearsenal:herhead.

Iwhiparoundandsmashmyforeheadintothecenteroftheface,crunch!,breakinganose,andthenthereisblood.Asinalotofblood,practicallyageyser,buttheblowhasnoothereffect.Shedoesn’tmoveaninch.Shedoesn’tevenblink.She’sbeen—whatworddidsheusetodescribetheincrediblycreepyandscarythingVoschdidtoher?—enhanced.

“Easythere,Sullivan,”Ringersays,turningherheadtospitoutagolf-ball-sizedwadofblood.

56RINGER

IPUSHSULLIVANdownintoaseatandshoutinherear,“Getreadytobail!”Shedoesn’tsayanything,juststaresupintomybloodyfaceuncomprehendingly.Arteriescauterizedbythemicroscopicdronesswarminginmybloodstream,painreceptorsshutdownbythehub;Imaylookhorrible,butIfeelgreat.

Iclimboverhertothecockpitandplopintothecopilot’sseat.Thepilotrecognizesmeimmediately.

It’sLieutenantBob.ThesameLieutenantBobwhosefingerIbrokeinmy“escape”withRazorandTeacup.

“Holyshit,”heshouts.“You!”“Backfromthegrave!”Iyell,whichisliterallytrue.Ijabmyfingeratourfeet.“Putherdown!”“Fuckyou!”Ireactwithoutthinking.Thehubdecidesforme—andthat’stheterrifyingthingaboutthe12th

System:Idon’tknowanymorewhereitendsandIbegin.Notfullyhuman,notwhollyalien,neither,both,somethingloosedwithinme,somethingunbound.

AfterwardIrealizethebrillianceofit:Themostpreciouscommodityofanypilotishissight.Iripoffhishelmetandshovemythumbintohiseye.Hislegskick;hishandfliesuptograbmy

wrist;andthechopper ’snosedips.IintercepthishandandguideitbacktothestickasIpourmyselfintohim:Wherethereispanic,calm.Wherethereisfear,peace.Wherethereispain,comfort.

Iknowhewon’tgoallkamikazeonus,becausenopartofhimishiddenfromme.Iknowthedesireshewoulddenyeventohimself,andthereisnodesirewithinhimtodie.

Asthereisnodoubtinhismindthatheneedsmetolive.

57ZOMBIEWASRIGHTallthosemonthsago:Assanctuariesintheapocalypsewent,thecavernsofWestLibertyweredamnhardtobeat.

NowondertheSilencerpriestclaimedthemforhisown.Gallonsoffreshwater.Anentirechamberstockedwithdryandcannedgoods.Medicalsupplies,

bedding,cansofheatingfuel,kerosene,andgasoline.Clothes,tools,andenoughweaponsandexplosivestooutfitasmallarmy.Aperfectplacetohide,evencozy,ifyouignoredthesmell.

TheOhioCavernsreekedofblood.Thelargestchamberwastheworst.Deepundergroundandhumid,withverylittleventilation.The

smell—andtheblood—hadnowheretogo.Thestonefloorstillshimmerscrimsoninourlights.Aslaughtertookplacehere.Eitherthefalsepriestpickedupthespentshellcasingsorheslicedhis

victimsopen,onebyone.Wefindaspotagainstthewallwithasleepingbag,astackofbooks(includingawell-wornBible),akerosenelantern,abagfulloftoiletries,andseveralrosaries.

“Ofalltheplaceshecouldbunk,hechosethisspot,”Zombiebreathes.He’spressingaclothagainsthisfacetofiltertheair.“CrazySOB.”

“Notcrazy,Zombie,”Itellhim.“Sick.Infectedwithavirusbeforehewasevenborn.That’sthebestwaytothinkofit.”

Zombienodsslowly.“You’reright.Thatisthebestwaytothinkofit.”We’veleftBobthepilotwithCassieandthetwokidsinanotherchamber,afterpackingand

bandaginghiswoundandgivinghimantibioticsandamassivedoseofmorphine.He’sinnoconditiontoflyanyfarthertonight.Justgettingusasfarasthecavernsexceededhisendurance,butIsatbesidehimandkepthimfocusedandcalm,hisballastandhisanchor.

ZombieandIretreattowardhigherground,andhenavigatesthenarrowpassageswithonehandonmyshoulder,awkwardlyswinginghisbadleg,wincingwitheverystep.ImakeamentalnotetocheckthewoundbeforeIleave.Theroundshouldprobablyberemoved,butIworrytheprocedurewilldomoreharmthangood.Evenwithantibiotics,theriskofinfectionishigh,andnickingamajorarterywouldbecatastrophic.

“Onlytwowaysdownhere,”hesays.“Thatworksforus.Wecanblockoffoneend,whichleavesasingleentrancetowatch.”

“Right.”“Thinkwe’refarenoughfromUrbana?”“FarenoughfromUrbanatowhat?”“Toavoidgettingvaporized.”Hesmiles,andhisteethshineunusuallybrightinthelamplight.Ishakemyhead.“Idon’tknow.”“Youknowwhat’sscary,Ringer?Youseemtoknowmorethananyofus,butwheneveracritical

questioncomesup,liketheissueofwhetherornotwe’llbevaporizedinacoupleofdays,younever

knowtheanswer.”Thepathissteep.Heneedstorest.I’mnotcertainheknowsthatIcanfeelwhathefeelsthrough

theconduitofhishandtouchingmyshoulder.Idon’tknowifthatwouldcomfortorterrifyhim.Maybeboth.

“Hangon,Zombie.”ActingasifIneedtocatchmybreath.“Gottarestaminute.”Ileanagainstanoutcropping.Atfirsthetriestobetoughandstayupright.Butafteraminuteor

twohecan’tmaintaintheact;heeaseshimselfontothefloor,gruntingfromtheeffort.Sincewemet,hisnear-constantcompanionhasbeenpain,mostofwhichIhavedelivered.

“Doesithurt?”heasks.“What?”Hepointsatmynose.“Sullivansaidshegotyougood.”“Shedid.”“It’snotevenswollen.Andnoblackeyes.”Ilookaway.“ThankVosch.”“Kindofhopingyou’llthankhimforallofus.”Inod.ThenIshakemyhead.ThenInodagain.Zombieknowshe’sondangerousground.Hemovestosaferterritoryquickly.“Anditdoesn’t

hurt?There’snopain?”Ilookrightintohiseyes.“No,Zombie.There’snopain.”Isquat,restingonmyheels,andsetthelamponthefloor.Thespacebetweenus,lessthanafoot,

feelsmorelikeamile.“Didyounoticeonourwayin?”Iask.“Somebodybuiltanoutdoorshower.IthinkI’mgoingto

takeonebeforeIleave.”Blood’scakedonmyface,there’sdirtinmyhair,anddampearthissmearedovereveryexposedinch.AneternitypassedafterZombieburiedme.IcanstillseetheirfacesblankwithastonishmentandhorrorasIburstfromthegrave,thetworecruitssentbacktopickupthesquadmatestheyleftbehindtokillus.Sullivanhadasimilarlookaftershesmashedherheadintomynose.I’vebecomethestuffofwonderandnightmares.

SoIwanttobeclean.Iwanttofeelhumanagain.“Won’tmatterifthewater ’scold?”Zombieasks.“Iwon’tfeelit.”Henodslikeheunderstands.“Itshouldbeme.Notintheshower.Ha,ha.Imeangoingwithyou.

NotCassie.I’msorry,Ringer.”Hepretendstostudythecave’sjaggedteethjuttingdownoverourheads,adragon’smouthfrozeninmidchomp.“Whatwashelike?Imean.Thatguy.Youknow.”

Iknow.“Tough.Funny.Smart.Helovedtotalk.Andhelovedbaseball.”“Whataboutyou?”Zombieasks.“Ihavenoopinionaboutbaseball.”“NotwhatImeantandyouknowit.”“Itdoesn’tmatter,”Ianswer.“He’sdead.”“Stillmatters.”“It’ssomethingyou’dhavetoaskhim.”“Ican’t.He’sdead.SoI’maskingyou.”“Whatdoyouwantfromme,Zombie?Seriously,whatdoyouwant?Hewaskindtome—”“Heliedtoyou.”“Notwhenitmattered.Notabouttheimportantthings.”“HebetrayedyoutoVosch.”

“Hesacrificedhislifeforme.”“HemurderedTeacup.”“That’sit,Zombie.Nomore.”Irise.“Ishouldn’thavetoldyou.”“Whydidyou?”Becauseyou’remybullshit-freezone,butI’mnotgivinghimthat.Becauseyou’retheoneIcame

outofthewildernessfor,no,notthat,either.AndnotBecauseyou’retheonepersonIstilltrust.Instead,Isay,“Youcaughtmeataweakmoment.”“Well.”ThentheBenParishsmile,thesmileitalmosthurtstolookat.“Ifyou’reeverinneedof

anegotisticalprick,I’myourman.”Hewaitstwobreaths,thenadds,“Oh,comeon,Ringer.Comeon.Smile.Thatjokeworksonsomanylevels,itisn’tevenfunny.”

“You’reright,”Ianswer.“It’snotfunny.”

58ISLIDEOUTofmyclothesbesidetheoutdoorshower.Theoverheadcontainerwasempty,soIhadtofillitfromthecisternnexttothewelcomecenter.Thecisternmusthaveweighedoverahundredpounds,butIhoisteditontomyshoulderasifitweighednomorethanlittleNugget.

Iknowthewateriscold,butlikeItoldZombie,I’mprotectedbyVosch’sgift.Ifeelnothingbutwetness.Thewaterbearsawaythebloodanddirt.

Irunmyhandsovermystomach.Hesacrificedhislifeforme.Theboyinthedoorwaylitupbyafuneralpyre,carvinglettersintohisarm.

Itouchmyshoulder.Theskinissmoothandsoft.The12thSystemrepairedthedamageminutesafterIinflictedit.Iamlikethewaterthatrunsoverme,immunetopermanence,recyclingendlessly.Iamwater;Iamlife.Theformmaychange,butthesubstancestaysthesame.StrikemedownandIwillriseagain.Vincitquipatitur.

Iclosemyeyesandseehis.Sharp,glittering,brilliantblue,eyesthatknifedeeperthanyourbones.Youcreatedme,andnowyourcreationiscomingbackforyou.Likeraintoparchedearth,Icomeback.

Andwaterbearsawaythebloodanddirt.

59CASSIE

HERE’SSOMETHINGtochewon.Here’sthecharmingtruthabouttheworldtheOthersarecreating:Mylittlebrotherhasforgottenthealphabet,butheknowshowtomakebombs.Ayearagoitwascrayonsandcoloringbooks,constructionpaperandElmer ’sglue.Nowit’s

fusesandblastingcaps,wiresandblackpowder.Whowantstoreadabookwhenyoucanblowsomethingup?Besideme,Meganwatcheshimthewayshewatcheseverythingelse:silently.SheclutchesBearto

herchest,anothersilentwitnesstotheevolutionofSamuelJ.Sullivan.He’sworkingwithRinger,thetwoofthemkneelingnexttoeachother,atwo-personassembly

line.IguesstheytookthesameIEDclassatcamp.Ringer ’sdamphairshineslikeablacksnake’sskininthelamplight.Herivoryskingleams.Acoupleofhoursago,Ismashedmyforeheadintohernoseandbrokeit,butthere’snoswelling,nosignIinflictedanydamageatall.Unlikemynose,whichwillbecrookedtillthedayIdie.Lifeisnotfair.

“How’dyougetonthatchopper?”Iaskher.It’sbeenbuggingme.“Samewayyoudid,”sheanswers.“Ijumped.”“Theplanwasformetojump.”“Whichyoudid.Youwerehangingonbyafingernail,”shesaid.“Ididn’tthinkIhadachoiceat

thatpoint.”Inotherwords,Isavedyourworthless,freckly,crooked-nosedass.Whatareyoubitchingabout?Notthatmynosehasanass.Ireallyshouldstopputtingthoughtsintootherpeople’sheads.Shetucksastrandofhersilkylocksbehindherear.There’ssomethingsoeffortlesslyand

inexplicablygracefulaboutthegesturethatitbordersoncreepy.Whatthehellhappenedtoyou,Ringer?

Ofcourse,Iknowwhathappenedtoher.Thegift,Evancalledit.Allhumanpotentialtimesahundred.IhavethehearttodowhatIhavetodo,Evantoldmeonce.Heneglectedtosayatthetimehemeantthatbothliterallyandfiguratively.Heneglectedtosayalotofthings,thebastardwhodoesn’tevendeserverescuing.

WhatthehellamIthinking?LookingatRinger ’sdelicatefingersdanceinthecomplicatedballetofconstructingabomb,Irealizethescariestthingaboutherisn’twhatVoschhasdonetoherbody;it’swhatthatamped-upbodyhasdonetohermind.Whenyouteardownourphysicallimitations,whathappenstoourmoralones?I’mprettycertainthepre-enhancedRingercouldn’thavesingle-handedlymassacredfiveheavilyarmed,well-trainedrecruits.Ialsosuspectpre-enhancedRinger

couldn’thaveshovedherthumbintoanotherhumanbeing’seyeball.Thatrequiredaleapinevolutionofanentirelydifferentkind.

SpeakingofBob.“Youpeoplearewacked,”hegoes.He’sbeenwatching,too,withhisgoodeye.“No,Bob,”Ringersayswithoutlookingupfromhertask.“Theworldiswacked.Wejusthappen

tobeoccupyingit.”“Notforlong!Youwon’tgetwithinahundredmilesofthebase.”Hispanickyvoicefillsthelittle

chamber,whichsmellsofchemicalsandoldblood.“Theyknowwhereyouare—there’safuckingGPSonthatchopper—andthey’recomingafteryouwitheverythingthey’vegot.”

Ringerlooksupathim.Aflipofthebangs.Aflashofthedarkeyes.“That’swhatI’mcountingon.”

“Howmuchlonger?”Iaskher.Everythingdependsonourreachingthebasebeforesunrise.“Acouplemoreandwe’llbeready.”“Yeah!”Bobshouts.“Getready!Sayyourprayers,becauseit’sgoin’down,Dorothy!”“She’snotaDorothy!”Samshoutsathim.“You’reaDorothy!”“Youshutthefuckup!”Bobyellsback.“Hey,Bob,”Icallovertohim.“Leavemybrotheralone.”Bob’sallballedupinthecorner,quivering,sweating,thebuttloadofmorphineapparentlynot

enough.Hecouldn’tbeolderthantwenty-five.Youngbypre-Arrivalstandards.Middle-agedbythenewones.

“What’sgonnastopmefromcrashingusintoafuckingcornfield,huh?”hedemands.“Whatchagonnado—punchoutmyothereye?”Thenhelaughs.

Ringerignoreshim,whichthrowsgasonBob’sfire.“Notthatitmatters.Notthatyouhaveachanceinhell.They’llcutyoudowntheminuteweland.

They’llcarveyouuplikefuckingHalloweenpumpkins.Somakeyourlittlebombsandhatchyourlittleplots;you’realldeadmeat.”

“You’reright,Bob,”Itellhim.“Thatprettymuchsumsitup.”I’mnotbeingsnarky(foronce).Imeaneveryword.Assuminghedoesn’tcrashusintoa

cornfield,assumingwearen’tshotdownbythearmadathat’ssurelyonitsway,assumingwearen’tcapturedorkilledinsidethecampbythethousandsofsoldierswhowillbeexpectingus,assumingbysomemiracleEvanisstillaliveandbysomebiggermiracleIfindhim,andassumingRingerkillsVosch,theclosestthingourspecieshastotheindestructiblecockroach,westillhavenoexitstrategy.We’rebuyingaone-waytickettooblivion.Andthoseticketsdon’tcomecheap,IthinkwhileIwatchmySamsputthefinishingtouchesona

bomb.Oh,Sam.Crayonsandcoloringbooks.Constructionpaperandglue.Teddybearsandfooty

pajamas,swingsetsandstorybooksandeverythingelseweknewyou’dleavebehind,thoughnotthissoon,notthisway.Oh,Sam,youhavethefaceofachildbuttheeyesofanoldman.

Iwastoolate.Iriskedeverythingtorescueyoufromtheend,buttheendalreadyhadyou.Ipushmyselftomyfeet.EverybodylooksatmeexceptSam.He’shummingsoftly,slightlyoff-

key.Thememusictobuildexplosivesby.He’sthehappiestI’veseenhiminalongtime.“IneedtotalktoSam,”ItellRinger.“That’sfine,”shesays.“Icansparehim.”“Iwasn’taskingforpermission.”

Igrabhiswristandpullhimfromthechamber,intothenarrowcorridor,upthepathtowardthesurfaceuntilI’msuretheycan’thearus.Fairlysure,anyway.RingercanprobablyhearabutterflybeatingitswingsinMexico.

“Whatisit?”heasks,frowning,ormaybe-frowning.Ididn’tbringalight;Icanbarelyseehisface.That’sadamngoodquestion,kid.Onceagain,hereIgo,half-cockedandwingingit.Thisshouldbe

aspeechweeksinthemaking.“YouknowI’mdoingthisforyou,”Itellhim.“Doingwhat?”“Leavingyou.”Heshrugs.Shrugs!“You’recomingback,aren’tyou?”Thereitis:theinvitationtoapromiseIcannotmake.Itakehishandandsay,“Rememberthat

summeryouchasedtherainbow?”Helooksupatme,utterlybaffled.“Well,maybenot.Ithinkyouwerestillindiapers.WewereinthebackyardandIhadthesprayer.Whenthesunlighthitthewater...youknow,arainbow.AndIwasmakingyouchaseit.Tellingyoutocatchtherainbow...”I’mabouttoletloosewithsomewaterworksofmyown.“KindofcruelwhenIthinkaboutit.”

“Whyareyouthinkingaboutit,then?”“Ijustdon’twant...Idon’twantyoutoforgetthings,Sam.”“Thingslikewhat?”“Youneedtorememberitwasn’talwayslikethis.”Makingbombsandhidingincavesand

watchingeveryoneyouknowdie.“Irememberthings,”heargues.“IrememberwhatMommylookedlikenow.”“Youdo?”Henodsemphatically.“IrememberedrightbeforeIshotthatlady.”Somethinginmyexpressionmustgivemeaway.I’mguessingamixtureofshockandhorrorand

asadnessthathasnobottom.BecauseheturnsonhisheelandbarrelsbacktotheweaponschamberonlytoreturnafteraminutewithBearinhisarms.

Oh,thatgoddamnedbear.“No,Sams,”Iwhisper.“Hebroughtyoulucklasttime.”“He’s...he’sMegan’snow.”“No,he’smine.He’salwaysbeenmine.”Holdinghimouttome.IgentlypushBearbackintohischest.“Andyouneedtokeephim.Iknowyou’veoutgrownhim.I

knowyou’reasoldierorcommandoorwhatevernow.Butoneday,maybethere’llbealittlekidwhoreallyneedsBear.Because...well,justbecause.”

Ikneelathisfeet.“Sohangontohim,understand?Youtakecareofhimandprotecthimanddon’tletanybodyhurthim.Bearisveryimportanttothegrandschemeofthings.He’slikegravity.Withouthim,theuniversewouldfallapart.”

Hestaresathisbigsister ’sfaceforalong,silentmoment.Memorizeit,Sams.Studyeverybruised,scratched-up,scarred,crookedinchofit.Soyoudon’tforget.Soyouneverforget.Remembermyfacenomatterwhat.No.Matter.What.

“That’scrazy,Cassie,”hesays,andforaninstant—andonlyaninstant—thelittleboyisback,andIseeinhisnow-facehisthen-face,hystericalwithwonderandlaughter,chasingrainbows.

60RINGER

IHOPDOWNfromthechopper.Zombiewatchesmeslingtherucksackovermyshoulderandsays,“Alldone?”

“Done.”“Howmanyyougotleft?”Noddingatthebag.“Five.”Hefrowns.“Thinkit’llbeenough?”“It’llhavetobe.So,yes.”“Timetogo,then,”hesays.“Timetogo.”Oureyesmeet.HeknowswhatI’mthinking.“Iwon’tmakethatpromise,”hesays.“Youcan’tcomeafterme,Zombie.”“Iwon’tmakethatpromise,”hesaysagain.“Andyoucan’tstayhere.Afterthemothershipdropsthebombs,headsouth.UsethetrackersI

gaveyou.Theywon’tmaskyoufromIRorhideyoufromSilencers,but—”“Ringer.”“I’mnotfinished.”“Iknowwhattodo.”“RememberDumbo.Rememberwhatcomingaftermecost.Somethingsyouhavetoletgo,

Zombie.Somethings—”Hegrabsmyfaceinbothhishandsandkissesmehardonthemouth.“Onesmile,”hewhispers.“OnesmileandI’llletyougo.”Myfaceinhishandsandmyhandsonhiships.Hisforeheadtouchingmineandthestarsturning

overusandtheEarthbeneathus,andtimeslipping,slipping.“Itwouldn’tbereal,”Itellhim.“Atthispoint,Idon’tcare.”Ipushhimaway.Gently.“Istilldo.”

61THEBOMBSHAVEBEENLOADED.TimetoloadBob.

“YouthinkI’mnotreadytodie?”heasksmeasIescorthimtohisseat.“Iknowyou’renot.”Istraphimin.Throughtheopenhatch,IcanseeSullivanwithZombie,andshe’stryingveryhard

tostaycomposed.CassieSullivanissentimentalandimmatureandself-absorbedbeyondbelief,butevensheknowswe’recrossingathresholdthatwecan’tcomebackfrom.

“Noplan,”shewhisperstoZombie.Shedoesn’twantmetohearherandIdon’treallywantto.Vosch’sgiftisacurse,too.“Nothingfated.”

“Nomeant-to-be,”Zombiesays.Noplan.Nothingfated.Nomeant-to-be.Likeacatechismoranaffirmationoffaith—orfaith’s

opposite.Sherisesonhertoesandkisseshischeek.“YouknowwhatI’mgonnasaynow.”Zombiesmiles.“He’llbefine,Cassie.”Hegrabsherhandandsqueezeshard.“Withmylife.”Herresponseisimmediateandfierce.“Notwithyourlife,Parish.Withyourdeath.”Shenoticesmeoverhisshoulderandpullsherhandaway.Inod.It’stime.Iturntoourone-eyedpilot.“Bootherup,Bob.”

62THEGROUNDRECEDES.Zombiedwindles,becomesablackdotagainstgrayearth.Theroadswivelstotherightlikethesecondhandoftheterrestrialclock,markingthetimethat’slost,thetimethatcannotbetakenback.Turningnorth,climbing,theexplosionofcountlessstars,andtheburningcenterofthegalaxyabackdropforthemothershipglowingphosphorescentgreen,itsbellyfullofthebombsthatwillerasethelastremainingfootprintofcivilization.Howmanycitiesintheworld?Fivethousand?Ten?Idon’tknow,buttheydo.Inlessthanthreehours,intheuttersilenceofthevoid,thebaydoorswillslideopenandthousandsofguidedmissilescarryingwarheadsnolargerthanaloafofbreadwillvomitforth.Asingleorbitaroundtheplanet.Aftertencenturies,allwehadbuiltwillbegoneinaday.

Thedebriswillsettle.Rainswillbathethescorchedandbarrenground.Riverswillreverttotheirnaturalcourse.Forestsandmeadowsandmarshandgrasslandswillreclaimwhatwascutandrazed,filledandleveledandburiedbeneathtonsofasphaltandconcrete.Animalpopulationswillexplode.Wolveswillreturnfromthenorthandherdsofbison,thirtymillionstrong,willagaindarkentheplains.Itwillbeasifweneverwere,paradisereborn,andthereissomethingancientinsideme,burieddeepinthememoryofmygenes,thatrejoices.Asavior?Voschaskedme.IsthatwhatIam?Acrosstheaisle,Sullivaniswatchingme.Shelookssosmallinthatoversizeduniform,likealittle

kidplayingdress-up.Howoddweendeduptogetherlikethis.Shedislikedmefromthemomentshelaideyesonme.Abouther,Ijustthoughttherewasn’tmuchtherethere.I’dknownalotofgirlslikeCassieSullivan,shybutarrogant,timidbutimpulsive,naïvebutserious,sensitivebutflippant.Feelingsmattertohermorethanfacts,particularlythefactthathermissionisafutileone.

Mineishopeless.Botharesuicidal.Andneitherisavoidable.Myheadsetcrackles.It’sBob.“We’vegotcompany.”“Howmany?”“Um.Six.”“I’mcomingup.”SullivanstartswhenIunbuckle.Ipathershoulderonmywaytothecopilot’sseat.It’sokay.We

wereexpectingthis.Upfront,Bobpointsouttheincomingchoppersonhisscreen.“Orders,boss?”Withonlyahintofsarcasm.“Engageorevade,oryouwantmetosetherdown?”“Holdcourse.They’regoingtohail—”“Wait.They’rehailingus.”Helistens.Ihaveavisualonthemnow,deadahead,flyinginattack

formation.“Okay,”hesays,turningtome.“Threeguesses.Firsttwodon’tcount.”“They’reorderingustoland.”“Nowit’smyturn:‘Upyours.’Right?”

Ishakemyhead.“Saynothing.Keepflying.”“Youdorealizethey’llshootusdown,right?”“Justletmeknowwhenthey’reinrange.”“Oh,sothat’stheplan.We’reshootingthemdown.Allsixofthem.”“Mybad,Bob.Imeantletmeknowwhenwe’reinrange.What’sourspeed?”“Ahundredandfortyknots.Why?”“Doubleit.”“Ican’tdoubleit.Maxisone-ninety.”“Thenmaxit.Sameheading.”Rightdownyourthroats,herewecome.Weleapforward;ashiverripplesdownthechopper ’sskin;theengineshowl;thewindscreamsin

thehold.Afteracoupleofminutes,evenBob’sunenhancedeyecanseetheleadchoppercomingstraightatus.

“Orderingusdownagain,”Bobyells.“Inrangeinthirty!”“What’sgoingon?”Sullivan’sheadpokesbetweenus.Hermouthdropsopenwhenshefocuseson

what’sbearingdown.“Twenty!”Bobcalls.“Twentywhat?”sheshouts.They’llpullup,I’msureofit.Pulluporbreakformationtoletuspass.Theywon’tshootus

down,either.Becauseoftherisk.Theriskisthekey,Voschtoldme.Bynowheknowsaboutthedeadstriketeamandthecommandeeredchopper.Constancewouldn’thavedonethatandWalker ’sbeencaptured.Thatleavesjustonepersonwhocouldhavepulledoffsomethinglikethis:hiscreation.

“Tenseconds!”Iclosemyeyes.Thehub,myever-faithfulcompanion,shutsdownmysenses,plungingmeinto

thatspacewithoutsound,withoutlight.I’mcoming,yousonofabitch.Youwantedtocreateahumanwithouthumanity.Nowyou’regoing

togetone.

63EVANWALKER

THEROOMintowhichtheythrewhimwassmall,bare,andverycold.Whentheypulledoffthehoodcoveringhishead,theseverityofthelightblindedhim.Instinctively,hecoveredhiseyes.

Oneofhiscaptorsdemandedhisclothes.Hestrippeddowntohisbriefs.No,thosetoo.Hedroppedtheshortsandkickedthemtowardthedoorway,wherethetwoboyswearingcamouflagestood.Oneofthem—theyoungerone—giggled.

Theysteppedoutoftheroom.Thedoorclangedshut.Thecoldandthesilenceandtheblaringlightwereintense.Helookeddownandsawalargedraininthecenterofthetiledfloor.Helookedup,andasiflookingupwasthesignal,waterburstfromtheoverheadsprayers.

Hestaggeredbackagainstthewallandcoveredhisheadwithhishands.Thecoldboredintohim,throughskintomuscletobonetomarrow,untilhiskneesbuckledandhesanktothefloor,headbalancedonhisupraisedknees,armswrappedaroundhislegs.Adisembodiedvoiceboomedinthetinyspace.“STAND.UP.”Heignoredit.

Instantly,thewaterchangedfromfreezingcoldtoscaldinghot,andEvanleapttohisfeet,mouthhangingopeninshockandpain.Theblazinglightcutthroughthesteamingmistandsplinteredintocountlessrainbowsthatbobbedandspun,radiantagainstthecolorlesstile.Thesprayturnedcoldagain,thenabruptlystopped.

Heleanedagainstthewall,gasping,andthevoiceboomed,“DON’TTOUCHTHEWALL.STANDWITHYOURFEETTOGETHERANDYOURHANDSATYOURSIDES.”

Hepushedofffromthewall.Never,notevenonthebitterestwinterdayonthefarmwhenthewindroaredacrossthefieldsandtreebranchesbrokeundertheweightofice,neverhadhebeenthiscold.Thiscoldwasalivingthing,abeastwithhisbodyclampedbetweenitsjaws,andthosejawswereslowlycrushinghim.Everyinstincttoldhimtomove;physicalexertionwouldincreasehisbloodpressure,raisehisheartrate,speedwarmthtohisextremities.

“DON’TMOVE.”Hecouldn’tconcentrate.Histhoughtsspunliketheuncountablerainbowsletloosebythespray.

Closinghiseyesmighthelp.“DON’TCLOSEYOUREYES.”Thecold.Heimaginedthewateronhisnakedbodyfreezingsolid,icecrystalsforminginhishair.

Hewillgointohypothermicshock.Hisheartwillstop.Hishandsballedintofistsandhedughisnailsintohispalms.Thepainwillfocushismind.Painalwaysdoes.

“OPENYOURHANDS.OPENYOUREYES.DON’TMOVE.”

Heobeyed.Ifhedideverythingtheysaid,followedeveryorder,compliedwitheverydemand,theywouldhavenoexcusetousetheoneweaponforwhichhehadnodefense.

Hewouldbearanyburden,endureanyhardship,sufferanytormentifthatsufferingaddedasinglemomenttoherlife.

Hehadbeenwillingtosacrificeanentirecivilizationforhersake.Hisownlifewasinfinitelysmallandmeaningless,thecostlessprice.Healwaysknew,fromthedayhefoundherhalfburiedinthesnow,whatsavinghermeant.Whatlovinghermeant.Thecelldoorslammingshut,thedeathsentencehandeddown.

Buttheyhadnotbroughthimtothisroomofcoldandshatteredlighttokillhim.Thatwouldcomelater.Aftertheyhadbrokenhisbodyandcrushedhiswillanddissectedhisminddowntothelast

synapse.TheundoingofEvanWalkerhadbegun.

64HOURSPASSED.Hisbodygrewnumb.Heseemedtofloatinsidehisowninsensateskin.Thewhitewallinfrontofhimstretchedtoinfinity;hewasfloatinginanendlessnothingness,andhisthoughtsbecamefragmented.Hismind,starvedforstimuli,flungoutrandomimagesfromhischildhood,Christmaseswithhishumanfamily,sittingwithhisbrothersonthefrontporch,squirminginthepewatchurch.Andmucholderscenes,fromadifferentlife:thebreathtakingsunsetsofafailingstar,skimmingovermountainrangesthreetimestheheightoftheHimalayasinsilverfliers,crestingahillandseeingbeneathhimavalleydevoidoflife,thecropdestroyedbytheultravioletpoisonoftheirdyingsun.

Ifheclosedhiseyes,thevoicescreamedathimtoopenthem.Ifheswayed,thevoicescreamedforhimtostandstill.

Butitwasonlyamatteroftimebeforehecollapsed.Hedidn’trememberfalling.Orthevoicescreamingathimtogetup.Onemomenthewasupright,

thenexthewascurledintoaballinabackcornerofthewhiteroom.Hehadnoideahowmuchtimehadpassed—orifanyhadpassedatall.Timedidnotexistinthewhiteroom.

Heopenedhiseyes.Amanwasstandinginthedoorway.Tall,athletic,withdeep-seteyesofstrikingblue,wearingacolonel’suniform.Heknewthisman,thoughtheyhadnevermet.Knewhisfaceandthefacebehindtheface.Knewhisgivennameandknewhishumanname.Hehadneverseenhimbefore;hehadknownhimfortenthousandyears.

“DoyouknowwhyI’vebroughtyouhere?”themanaskedhim.Evan’smouthopened.Hislipscrackedandbegantobleed.Histonguemovedclumsily;hecould

notfeelit.“Betrayed.”“Betrayed?Ohno,quitetheopposite.Ifthereisonewordtodescribeyou,itisdevoted.”He

steppedtoonesideandawomanwearingawhitesmockwheeledagurneyintotheroom.Twosoldiersfollowed.Theyscoopedhimfromtheflooranddumpedhimontothegurney.Abovehim,asingledropofwaterclungtoasprayernozzle.Hewatcheditquiverthere,unabletolookaway.Acuffwaswrappedaroundhisarm;hedidn’tfeelit.Athermometerwasrunacrosshisforehead;hedidn’tfeelit.

Abrightlightwasshoneinhiseyes.Thewomanprobedhisnakedbody,pressingonhisstomach,massaginghisneckandpelvis,andherhandsweredeliciouslywarm.

“Whatismyname?”thecolonelasked.“Vosch.”“No,Evan.Whatismyname?”Heswallowed.Hewasverythirsty.“Itcan’tbepronounced.”“Try.”

Heshookhishead.Itwasimpossible.Theirlanguagehadevolvedasaresultofaverydifferentanatomy.VoschmightaswellaskachimpanzeetoreciteShakespeare.

Thewomaninthewhitesmockwiththewarmhandsslidaneedleintohisarm.Hisbodyrelaxed.Hewasn’tcoldorthirstyanymore,andhismindwasclear.

“Whereareyoufrom?”Voschasked.“Ohio.”“Beforethat.”“Can’tbepronounced—”“Nevermindthename.Tellmewhere.”“IntheconstellationLyra,thesecondplanetfromthedwarfstar.Thehumansdiscovereditin2014

andnameditKepler438b.”Voschsmiled.“Ofcourse.Kepler438b.Andofallplacesfromwhichyoucouldchoose,whythe

Earth?Whydidyoucomehere?”Evanturnedhisheadtolookattheman.“Youalreadyknowtheanswer.Youknowallthe

answers.”Thecolonelsmiled.Hiseyesremainedhard,though,andhumorless.Heturnedtothewoman.“Get

himdressed.It’stimeforAlicetotakeatripdowntherabbithole.”

65THEYBROUGHTHIMabluejumpsuitandapairofflimsywhiteshoes.Hetoldthesoldierswatchinghim,“It’salie.Whathe’stoldyou.He’slikeme.He’susingyoutomurderyourownkind.”

Theboyssaidnothing.Theynervouslycaressedthetriggersoftheirguns.“Thewaryou’reabouttowageisn’treal.You’llbekillinginnocentpeople,survivorslikeyou,

untilthelastonefallsandthenwewillkillyou.You’reparticipatinginyourowngenocide.”“Yeah,well,you’reafuckingpieceofinfestedhorseshit,”theyoungerboyblurtedout.“Andwhen

thecommander ’sdonewithyou,he’sgivingyoutous.”Evansighed.Therewasnobreakingthroughtheliebecauseacceptingthetruthwouldbreakthem.Vicesarevirtuesnow,andvirtuesvices.Outoftheroom,downalongcorridor,thendescendingthreeflightsofstairstothelowestlevel.

Anotherlongcorridor,turningrightintoathirdthatspannedthelengthofthebase,passingdoorafterunmarkeddoor,wallsofgraycinderblockandthesterileglowoffluorescentbulbs.Herenightneverfell;herethelightwaseverlasting.

Theycametothelastdoorattheendofthegraytunnel.Thehundredsofdoorshehadpassedhadbeenwhite;thisdoorwasgreen.Itswungopenastheyapproached.

Insidetheroomwasarecliningchairwithstrapsonthearmsandthefootrest.Anarrayofmonitorsandakeyboard.Atechnicianwaswaitingforhim,blank-faced,standingatattention.

AndVosch.“Youknowwhatthisis,”hesaid.Evannodded.“Wonderland.”“AndwhatmightIexpecttofindthere?”“Verylittlethatyoudon’talreadyknow.”“IfIknewwhatIneededtoknow,Iwouldn’thavegonetosomuchtroubletobringyouhere.”Thetechnicianstrappedhimintothechair.Evanclosedhiseyes.Heknewtheuploadingofhis

memorieswouldbephysicallypainless.Healsoknewitcouldbepsychologicallydevastating.Thehumanbrainhasamarvelouscapacitytoscreenandsortexperience,protectingitselfagainsttheunbearable.Wonderlandlaidbareexperiencewithoutthebrain’sinterference,extractinglife’srecordwithnointerpretationofthedata.Nothingincontext,nocauseandeffect,lifeunfiltered,withoutthebrain’sgiftofrationalization,denial,andcreatingconvenientgaps.

Werememberourlives.Wonderlandforcesustorelivethem.Itlastedtwominutes.Twoverylongminutes.Fromthedisasterofsilenceandlightthatfollowed,Vosch’svoice:“Thereisaflawinyou.You

knowthis.Somethinghasgoneawryandit’simportantthatweunderstandthereason.”Hislegsached.Hiswristswerewornrawfrompullingagainstthestraps.“Youwillnever

understand.”

“Youmayberight.Butitismyhumanimperativetotry.”Onthemonitorscolumnsofnumbersflowed,hislifeorganizedintosequencesofqubits,whathe

saw,felt,heard,said,tasted,andthought,andthemostcomplexpacketsofinformationintheuniverse:humanemotion.

“Itwilltakesometimetorunthediagnostics,”Voschsaid.“Comewithme.Iwanttoshowyousomething.”

Healmostfellcomingoutofthechair.Voschcaughthimandgentlypulledhimupright.“Whathashappenedtoyou?”heaskedEvan.“Whyareyousoweak?”“Askthem.”Withanodtowardthemonitors.“The12thSystemcrashed?Whendiditcrash?”He’dmadeapromise.HehadtofindherbeforeGracedid.Runningdownthehighway,running

untilthegiftwithinhimcollapsed.Becausenothingmatteredbutthepromise,nothingmatteredbuther.

EvanlookedintoVosch’sbrightblue,birdlikeeyesandsaid,“Whatareyougoingtoshowme?”Voschsmiled.“Comeandsee.”

66TURNINGLEFToffthestairsbroughtyoudownthemile-longhallwaytoWonderland’sgreendoor.Turningrightbroughtyoutoadeadend,ablankwall.

Voschpressedhisthumbagainstthewall.Gearswhined,aseamappeared,andthewallsplitdownthemiddle,thetwohalvespullingbacktorevealanarrowcorridorthatfadedpastthesterileglowoffluorescentsintoutterblack.

Arecordingsprangfromahiddenspeaker:“Warning!YouareenteringanarearestrictedtoauthorizedpersonnelpursuanttoSpecialOrderEleven.Allunauthorizedpersonsfoundinthisareawillbesubjecttoimmediatedisciplinaryaction.Warning!Youareenteringanarearestrictedtoauthorizedpersonnel...”

Thevoicefollowedthemintothedark.Warning!Asmudgeofsicklygreenlightbathedtheendofthenarrowcorridor.Theystoppedthere,atadoorwithnohandle.Voschpressedhisthumbagainstthemiddleofthedooranditswungsilentlyopen.HeturnedtoEvan.

“WecallthisArea51,”Voschinformedhimwithoutatraceofirony.Lightsflickeredonastheycrossedthethreshold.ThefirstthingthatcaughtEvan’seyewasthe

egg-shapedpod,identicaltothepodinwhichheescapedCampHaven,exceptforitssize:Thispodwastwiceaslarge.Itdominatedhalfthechamber.Aboveit,hecouldseetheconcrete-reinforcedlaunchshaftthatledtothesurface.

“Thisiswhatyouwantedtoshowme?”Hedidn’tunderstand.HeknewVoschwouldhaveapodonbasetoreturntotheirvesselafterthe5thWavewasunleashed.Inamatterofhours,identicalpodswouldbedispatchedfromthemothershiptoretrievetherestoftheirembeddedpeople.WhydidVoschwanthimtoseehis?

“It’sunique,”Voschsaid.“Thereareonlytwelveotherslikeitintheworld.Oneforeachofus.”“Whyareyoudoingthis?”Hewaslosinghistemper.“WhydoyouspeakinriddlesandliesasifI

amoneofyourhumanvictims?Therearemorethantwelve.Therearetensofthousands.”“No.Onlytwelve.”Hegesturedtowardtheirright.“Comeoverhere.Ithinkyou’regoingtofind

thisveryinteresting.”Hangingateyelevelfromtheceiling,itsskinaglisteninggreenishgray,atwenty-foot-long

cigar-shapedobject.Afterthe3rdWave,droneslikethisonefilledthesky.Vosch’seyes,hehadtoldCassie.It’showheseesyou.

“Animportantcomponentofthewar,”Voschsaid.“Important,butnotcritical.Theirlossdemandedabitofimprovisationinourhuntforyou—youhavewonderedwhyitwasnecessarytoenhanceanordinaryhuman,yes?”

HewasreferringtoRinger.ButEvandidn’tseetheconnection.“Whydidyou?”“Thepurposeofthedroneswasnottopinpointthelocationofsurvivors—itwastotrackyou.You

andthethousandslikeyouwhowillabandonyourassignedterritoriesinthedaysaheadasthe5th

Waveislaunchedandyourealizethattherewillbenorescue,noescapetothemothership.”Evanshookhishead.ForthefirsttimeitoccurredtohimthatVoschmayhavegonemad.Itwas

theirgreatestfearwhendesigningthepurificationoftheEarth.Sharingthebodywithahumanconsciousnessmightprovetobeanoverwhelmingburden,astrainthatcouldnotbeborne.

“NowyouarewonderingifIamnotaltogetherinmyrightmind,”Voschsaidwithasmallsmile.“Idon’tsoundlikethepersonyou’veknownmostofyourten-thousand-year-oldlife.Thetruthiswehavenevermet,Evan.Untiltoday,Ididnotevenknowwhatyoulookedlike.”Voschtookhimbytheelbow,gently,andguidedhimtowardthebackofthechamber.

Evan’suneasedeepened.Therewassomethingprofoundlydisturbingaboutthis.Hedidn’tunderstandwhyVoschhadbroughthimhere,whyhesimplyhadn’tkilledhim—whatdiditmatterifhishumanbodydied?Hisconsciousnessstillexistedonthemothership.Whatwasthepointofthisbizarreshow-and-tell?

Inthecornerwasawoodenstand,andonthestandperchedalargebirdofprey,itsheadtiltedforward,itseyesclosed,apparentlyasleep.Evan’sstomachfluttered.Theyearscollapsedandhewasaboyagain,lyinginhisbedinthathazyspacebetweendreamingandwaking,watchingtheowlonthewindowsillwatchinghim,brightroundeyesshininginthedark,andhisbodyfeelingasifithadbeenfrozeninamber,unabletomove,unabletolookaway.

Behindhim,Voschmurmured,“Bubovirginianus.Thegreathornedowl.Magnificent,isn’the?Afearsomepredator,nocturnal,solitary—hispreyrarelyknowhe’scominguntilit’stoolate.Heisyourdemon,yourspiritanimalinasense.Youweredesignedtobehishumanequivalent.”

Thewingsstirred.Thethickchestheaved.Theheadlifted,theeyescameopen,andtheireyesmet.“Ofcourse,itisn’treal,”Voschwenton.“Itisadeliverydevice.Amachine.Onecametoyour

motherwhileyouwerestillinherwomb,bearingtheprogramthatwastransmittedintoyourdevelopingbrain.Anothervisitedyouafterthatprogrambootedup.Yourawakening,Ithinkit’scalled,toendowyouwiththe12thSystem.”

Hecouldnotturnaway.Theowl’seyesfilledhisvision,engulfedhim.“Thereisnoalienentityinsideyou,”Voschsaid.“Noneinsideanyofusandnoneaboardthe

mothership.Itiscompletelyautomated,likeyouroldfriendhere,designedbyitsmakersaftercenturiesofcarefulstudyanddeliberationandsenttothisplanettoweanthehumanpopulationtoasustainablelevel.And,ofcourse,tokeepitthereindefinitelybychanginghumannatureitself.”

Evanfoundhisvoice,andsaid,“Idon’tbelieveyou.”Theeyes.Hecouldnotlookaway.“Aflawless,self-sustainingloop,animmaculatesysteminwhichtrustandcooperationcannever

takeroot.Progressbecomesimpossible,forallstrangersarepotentialenemies,the‘other ’whomustbehunteddownuntilthelastbulletisspent.Youwerenevermeanttobeanagentofdestruction,Evan.YouarepartofEarth’ssalvation—oryouwereuntilsomethinginyourprogrammingwentwrong.ThatiswhyI’vebroughtyouhere.Nottotortureyouorkillyou.Ihavebroughtyouheretosaveyou.”

HeplacedaconsolinghandonEvan’sshoulder,andhistouchbroketheholdoftheowl’seyes.Evanwhirleduponhiscaptor.Hewouldkillhim.Hewouldchokethelifeoutofhimwithhisbarehands.

Hisfistpunchedemptyair.Themomentumnearlycarriedhimoffhisfeet.Voschhadvanished.

67THOUGHHEREMAINEDUPRIGHT,hehadthesensationoffallingfromagreatheight.Theroomspun,thewallsfadedinandoutoffocus.Acrossthechamber,afigurestoodinthedoorway,avisualanchorthatsteadiedhim.Hetookahesitantstepforwardandstopped.

“Whatdoyouremember?”Voschcalledfromthethreshold.“WasIstandingrightbesideyou?DidIplacemyhanduponyourshoulder?Whatareourmemoriesbuttheultimateproofthatweexist?WhatifIweretotellyouthateverythingyouremembersincewesteppedintothisroom,allofit,isalie,afalsememorytransmittedintoyourbrainbythat‘owl’behindyou?”

“Iknowit’salie,”Evananswered.“IknowwhoIam.”Hewasshaking.Hewascolderthanhe’dbeeninthewhiteroombeneaththeicyspray.

“Oh,whatyou‘heard’wasthetruth.It’sthememorythat’sfalse.”Voschsighed.“Youareastubbornone,aren’tyou?”

“WhyshouldIbelieveyou?”Evancried.“WhoareyouthatIshouldbelieve?”“BecauseIamoneofthechosen.Ihavebeenentrustedwiththegreatestmissioninhumanhistory:

thesalvationofourspecies.Likeyou,I’veknownsinceIwasaboywhatwascoming.Unlikeyou,Iknewthetruth.”

Vosch’seyesstrayedtothepod.Histoneshiftedfromsterntowistful.“It’simpossibletoexpresshowlonelyIhavebeen.Onlyahandfulofusknowthetruth.Inablindworld,onlywehadeyestosee.Wewerenotgivenachoice—youmustunderstand—therewasnochoice.Iamnotresponsible.Iamavictimasmuchastheyare,asmuchasyou!”Hisvoiceroseinfury.“Thisisthecost!Thisistheprice!AndIhavepaid.Ihavedoneeverythingthatwasdemandedofme.Ihavefulfilledmypromise,andnowmyworkisdone.”

Heheldouthishand.“Comewithme.Allowmetograntyouonelastgift.Comewithme,EvanWalker,andlaydown

yourburden.”

68HEFOLLOWEDVOSCH—whatchoicedidhehave?—backdownthelongcorridortothegreendoor.Thetechnicianrosewhentheyenteredandsaid,“I’verunthetestthreetimes,Commander,andIstillcan’tfindanyanomaliesintheprogram.Doyouwantmetorunitagain?”

“Yes,”Voschanswered.“Butnotnow.”HeturnedtoEvan.“Pleasesit.”Henoddedtothetech,whostrappedEvanbackintotherecliningchair.Thehydraulicswhined;he

rotatedback,hisfacetowardthefeaturelesswhiteceiling.Heheardthedooropen.Thesamewomanwhohadexaminedhiminthewhiteroomentered,wheelingbeforeheragleamingstainless-steelcart.Onit,laidoutinaneatrow,werethirteensyringesfilledwithanamber-coloredfluid.

“Youknowwhatthisis,”Voschsaid.Evannodded.The12thSystem.Thegift.Butwhyreturnit?“BecauseI’manoptimist,anincurableromantic,likeyou,”Voschsaid,asifhehadreadEvan’s

mind.“Ibelievewherethereislife,thereishope.”Hesmiled.“Butmostlybecausefiveyoungmenaredead,whichmeansshemaystillbealive.Andifshelives,thereisonlyoneoptionleftforher.”

“Ringer?”Voschnodded.“SheiswhatIhavemadeher;andsheiscomingtodemandthatIanswerforwhat

I’vedone.”HeleanedoverEvan’sface,andhiseyesburnedwithiridescentfire,andtheblueflamesseared

himdowntohisbones.“Youwillbemyanswer.”Heturnedtothetech,whoflinchedundertheintensityofhisglare.“Shemayberight:Lovemay

bethesingularity,theinexplicable,ungovernable,ineffablemystery,impossibletopredictorcontrol,thevirusthatcrashedaprogramdesignedbybeingsnexttowhichwearenomoreevolvedthanacockroach.”ThenbacktoEvan:“SoIwilldomyduty;Iwillburndownthevillageinordertosaveit.”

Hesteppedback.“Downloadhimagain.Theneraseit.”“Eraseit,sir?”“Erasethehuman.Leavetherest.”Thecommander ’svoicefilledthetinyroom.“Wecannotlove

whatwedonotremember.”

69INTHEAUTUMNWOODStherewasatent,andinthattenttherewasagirlwhosleptwitharifleinonehandandateddybearintheother.Andwhilesheslept,ahunterkeptvigiloverher,anunseencompanionwhoretreatedwhenshewoke.Hehadcometoendherlife;shewastheretosavehis.

Andtheendlessargumentswithhimself,thevanityofhisownreasonposingtheunanswerablequestion,Whymustonelivewhiletheworlditselfperished?Themorehereachedforthatanswer,thefarthertheanswerretreatedfromhisgrasp.

Hewasafinisherwhocouldnotfinish.Hiswastheheartofahunterwholackedthehearttokill.InherjournalshehadwrittenIamhumanity,andsomethinginthosethreewordssplinteredhimin

two.Shewasthemayfly,hereforaday,thengone.Shewasthelaststar,burningbrightinaseaof

limitlessblack.Erasethehuman.Inaburstofblindinglight,thestarCassiopeiaexploded,andtheworldwentblack.EvanWalkerhadbeenundone.

70CASSIE

NOTTENMINUTESintoitandI’mstartingtothinkthiswholemission-impossible,killing-Vosch-and-rescuing-Evanthingywasaverybadidea.

Bobtheone-eyedpilotshouts,“Tenseconds!”Ringercloseshereyes,andinanawful,sickeninginstant,I’mconvincedwe’vebeensetup.Thishasbeenherplanallalong.LeaveBenandthekidsdefenseless,thengetthetwoofuskilledkamikazestyleatfivethousandfeet,becausewhogivesashit?There’sacopyofherthatlivesinWonderland.She’lljustbedownloadedintoanewbodyoncewe’realldead.Now’syourchance,Cass.Takeoutyourknifeandcutouthertreacherousheart...ifyoucanfind

it.Ifshehasone.“They’rebreakingformation!”Bobannounces.Ringer ’seyessnapopen.Mychanceslipsaway.“Holdourcourse,Bob,”shesaysevenly.Thechoppersbeardownonus,spreadingoutsoeverybodygetsafairshot,sonoonefeelsleft

outorcheatedofthechancetoblowusintoagazillionpieces.Bobholdsourcoursebuthedgesourbets,lockingamissileontheleadcopter.Histhumbhovers

overthebutton.ThethingthatblowsmymindaboutBobishowquicklyheswitchedsides.Whenheopenedhiseyesthismorning,bothofthem,hewasprettycertainwhichteamhewasbattingfor.Then,inthebattingofaneye(ha!sorry,Bob),he’slockedandloaded,readytoannihilatehisfellowbrothersandsisters-in-arms.

Sothereyougo.Youcanlovethegoodinusandhatethebad,butthebadisinus,too.Withoutit,wewouldn’tbeus.

AllIwanttodointhismomentisgiveBobabighug.“They’regoingtoramus!”Bobscreams.“Wegottadive,wegottadive!”“No,”Ringersays.“Trustme,Bob.”Boblaughshysterically.Webarreltowardtheleadchopperasitbarrelstowardus,bothatfull

throttle.“Oh,sure!Whywouldn’tItrustyou?”White-knuckledonthestick,thumbcaressingthebutton,inafewsecondsitwon’tmatterwhatRingertellshim,he’sgoingtofire.Ultimately,Bobisonnobody’ssidebutBob’s.

“Break,”Ringerwhispersatthebigblackfistrocketingtowardourface.“Breaknow.”Toolate.Bobjamsthebutton,theBlackHawkshudderslikesomegiganticfootkickedit,anda

Hellfiremissileexplodesfromitsmount.Thecockpitlightsuplikethenoondaysun.Somebodyscreams(Ithinkitmightbeme).Amaelstromoffireengulfsusforhalfasecond—debrispoppingandsmackingagainstourhull—andthenweburstthroughthefireballtotheotherside.

“HoooooooolyyyyyMotherofGod!”Bobyells.Ringerdoesn’tsayanythingatfirst.She’slookingathisscopeandthefiveremainingwhitedots.

Fourbreakoff,tworightandtwoleft,andthethirdcontinueson,edgingtowardthebottomofthescreen.Ohno.Whereishegoing?

“Hailthem,”RingertellsBob.“Tellthemwe’resurrendering.”“Weare?”BobandIsayatthesametime.“Thenholdcourse.They’renotgoingtoforceusdownorfireonus.”“Howdoyouknow?”Bobasks.“Becauseiftheywere,theywouldhavedoneitbynow.”“Whatabouttheotherone?”Idemand.“It’sgone.It’snotfollowingus.”Ringergivesmealook.“Wheredoyouthinkit’sgoing?”Thensheturnsaway.“It’llbeallright,

Sullivan.Zombiewillknowwhattodo.”LikeIsaid,averybadidea.

71ISINKBACKintomyseatandfighttogetairintomylungs.IthinkIforgottobreathebackthere.Mymouthisbone-dry.Isipsomewater,butjustenoughtowetmymouth,becauseI’malittleconcernedabouthavingtopeeduringtheoperation.Ringer ’sdescribedthebasetomeinsomedetail,includingthelocationoftheWonderlandroom,butIneveraskedwherethebathroomswere.

Ringer ’svoicecracklesannoyinglyinmyear.“Getsomerest,Sullivan.We’reintheairforanothercoupleofhours.”

Andsunrisewon’tbefarbehind.We’recuttingthistooclose.I’mnoexpertoncovertops,butI’mguessingthey’reaweebiteasierinthedark.Plus,ifEvanwasright,todayisGreenDay,thedaythefireballsofhellrainfromthesky.

IhuntaroundinmypocketsuntilIlocateoneofBenParish’smagicalpowerbars.Thealternativeisburstingintotears.I’mdeterminednottocryuntilIseeSamagain.He’stheonlythingleftthat’sworthyofmytears.

Andwhatthehelldidshemean,Zombiewillknowwhattodo?That’sgood,Sullivan,he’dbetterknow,becauseyousureashelldon’t.Ifyouknewwhattodo,you

wouldn’tbeonthisdamnchopper.You’dbewithyourlittlebrother.Wiseup.Youknowtherealreasonyou’rehere.Youcantellyourselfit’sforSam,butyou’renotfoolinganybody.

OhGod,I’mahorribleperson.I’mworsethanOne-EyedBob.Iabandonedmybloodforaguy.Andthat’ssowrong,itmakeseveryotherwrongthingI’veeverdoneseemright.BentoldmeEvanwaslyingorcrazyorboth,becausewhodestroystheirentirecivilizationforagirl?Oh,Idon’tknow,Ben.Maybethesamekindofpersonwhowouldsacrificeheronlyfleshandbloodtorepayadebtshedidn’towe.

Imean,itisn’tasifIaskedhimtosavemeallthosetimes.AnymorethanIaskedhimtoshootmeintheleg.Ineveraskedhimforanything.Hejustgave.Gavepastthepointwheregivingissane.Isthatwhatloveis?Andisthatwhyitmakesnosensetome,becauseI’veneverfeltit,notforhim,notforBenParish,notforanyone?

No,no,no,please,brain,don’t.Don’tserveupVermontandthatdamneddogagain.IpromiseI’llstopthinkingsomuch.Thinkingtoomuchhasbeenmyproblemforaverylongtime.I’veoverthoughteverything,fromwhytheOtherscametowhatEvanwastotheveryweirdfactthatIlivedwhilepracticallyallofhumanitydied.Downtowhythatgirlinfrontofmehasthesilkiest,mostbeautifulhairI’veeverseen,andwhyIdon’t,andwhyshehasperfectporcelainskin,whichIdon’t.Andthenose.GoodChrist,howstupid.Whatawasteoftime.It’sjustgeneswithalittlealientechnologythrownin,bigwhoop.

Ifinishthebarandcrumplethewrapperinmyfist.Itjustdoesn’tfeelrighttothrowitdownonthefloor.

Ileanbackagainstthebulkheadandclosemyeyes.Thiswouldbeanexcellenttimetopray,ifIcouldthinkofaprayer,butmymind,sostuffedthatmythoughtshavetolineuplikecrowdsatDisney,can’tthinkofanythingtosaytoGod.

NotsureIwanttotalktohimanyway,theenigmaticbastard.Likehe’scrossedhisarmsandturnedhisback,andIwonderifthisishowNoahfeltontheboat.Okay,reallyappreciativeaboutme,Lord,butwhataboutthem?AndGodsays,Oh,don’tasksomanyquestions,Noah.Look!Imadeyouarainbow!

TheonlythingthatbobsupisSammy’sbedtimeprayer,so,alittledesperate,Igowithit.NowIlaymedowntosleep...Well,notreally.WheninthemorninglightIwake...Well,probablywon’thappen,either.Teachmethepathoflovetotake.Yes!Okay,that’sgood!Please,God.Thisonethinganddon’tfalldownonthejob.Teachme.

72ZOMBIE

KEEPINGWATCHatthecaves’entrance,admiringthenightsky—exceptthatonesmallgreenspothoveringabovethehorizon—whenoneofthestarsbreaksofffromthefieldanddescendstowardus.Fast.Veryfast.Nuggettouchesmysleeveandsays,“Look,Zombie!Afallingstar!”

Ipushofftheold,ricketyhandrailI’vebeenleaningagainst.“That’snostar,kid.”“Isitabomb?”Hiseyesarewidewithfear.Foronegut-rollingsecond,Ithinkitcouldbe.They’vesteppedupthescheduleforsomereason,

andtheobliterationofthecitieshasbegun.“Comeon,backdownstairs,doubletime.”Idon’thavetotellhimtwice.He’salreadyyardsaheadofmewhenIhitthefirstchamber.Iscoop

Meganfromthefloor.Shedropstheteddybear.Nuggetpicksitup.Icarryherdeeperintothecaves,balancingheronthehipofmygoodleg,buteachstepsendsajoltofpainthatmakesthetopofmyheadfeelasifit’sgoingtocomeoff.There’saledgedownhere,athree-foot-high,five-foot-deepgashintherockcutoutbyanancientriver.IliftMeganintoitandshecrawlstowardthebackuntiltheshadowsengulfher.Shit.Nearlyforgot.Imotionforhertocomeback.

Ipulloneofthedeadrecruit’strackersfrommypocket.Ringer ’sideaandadamngoodone.“Putthisinyourmouth,”ItellMegan.Sheisthunderstruck.Thelookinhereyes,likeIaskedhertochopoffherhead.I’vebroacheda

touchysubject.“Look,Nugget’lldoit.”Ipressthetrackerintohisemptyhand.“Righthere,Private,”Isay,pulling

backmylipandpointingtoaspotbetweenmycheekandgums.ThenIturnbacktoMegan.“See?”ButMeganhasfadedbackintotheshadows.Damnit.IgiveNuggetanothertracker.“Makesureshedoesit,okay?Shelistenstoyou.”

“Oh,no,Zombie,”Nuggetsaysveryseriously.“Megandoesn’tlistentoanybody.”HeshovesBearintothespaceandcallssoftlytoher,“Megan!TakeBear.He’llkeepyousafe,like

gravity.”Afterthatpieceoflogiconlyachildcouldunderstand,hehitchesuphispants,ballshisfists,thrustsouthislittlechin,andsays,“They’recoming,aren’tthey?”

Webothhearitthen,liketheanswertohisquestion:thesoundofachopper ’sengines,doublinginvolumewitheachofourrapidbreaths.Towardtheentrancethebrilliantwhiteofitssearchlightslicesthroughthedark.

“Go,Nugget.GetuptherewithMegan.”“ButI’mfightingwithyou,Zombie.”

Hesureis.Andattheworstpossibletime.Overhisshoulder,Icanseelamplightflickeringintheweaponschamber.Doubledamnit.

“Here’swhatyoucando—killthatlightdownthere.Thenmeetmebackhere.Ifwe’relucky,theywon’tevenland.”

“Lucky?”Igetthefeelinghewantsthemtoland.“Don’tforget,Nugget,we’reallonthesameside.”Hefrowns.“Howcanwebeonthesamesideiftheywanttokillus,Zombie?”“Becausetheydon’tknowwe’reonthesameside.Go.Shutoffthatdamnlight—go!”Hescampersupthepath.Thechopper ’slightfades,butnotsomuchitsengines.Mustbeexecuting

asweep.WeshouldbefarenoughundergroundtofoiltheIR,butthere’snoguarantees.Thelampgoesoutandthecavesplungeintodarkness.Ican’tseeaninchinfrontofmynose.

Afterafewseconds,someonesmallbumpsintome.I’mfairlyconfidentit’shim.Onlyfairly,though,becauseIwhisper,“Nugget?”

“It’sokay,Zombie,”heinformsme,allbusiness.“Igrabbedagun.”

73THERE’SSOMETHINGI’mforgetting.Whatisit?

“Here,Zombie,youforgotthese.”Hepushesagasmaskintomychest.GodblessNugget.AndGodblessSilencerslikeGraceandFatherDeath,whoknewhowtostockpilefortheendoftheworld.

Nugget’spracticed;he’salreadygothisstrappedon.“You’vegotMegan’s?”Dumb.Ofcoursehe’dgraboneforher.“Okay,pal,upyougo.”

“Zombie,listen...”“That’sadirectorder,Private.”“No,Zombie!Listen.”Ilisten.Nothingexceptmyownbreathhissingandhuffinginthemask.“Theyleft,”Nuggetsays.“Shhh.”Tink-tink-tink.Thesoundofmetalstrikingstone.Damnyou,Ringer,beingrightallthetimeisincrediblyannoying.They’vetossedinthegas.

74Assumingyoudon’tdrawthemoff,howwilltheycome?IaskedRingerwhilewewerebarricadingthebackentrance.Youneverpaidattentioninclass.Dowealwayshavetomakeitaboutme?Tryingtoteaseasmilefromherhasseguedfroma

hobbytoaborderlineobsession.Gasfirst.Youthink?I’dgowithafewsticksofC-4tosealofftheexits,thenfinishusoffwithacoupleof

bunker-busters.That’sprobablysecond.Behindus,towardthemainentrance,theteargasdetonateswithfourloudpops.IgrabNugget

aroundthewaistandheavehimintothecleftwithMegan.“Getthatmaskonhernow!”Ishout,thenI’mhobblingupthepath,thinking,ThankGodheremembered!Thatkiddeservesapromotion.Onething’sforcertain,Ringersaid.Theywon’tbesettlinginforasiege.Iftheyattemptadynamic

CQC,they’llprobablyhitthemainentrance,whichwillgiveyouaslightadvantage:It’snarrowlikeacowchute—they’llfunnelrighttoyou.

I’mrunningblind.Well,callingitrunningwouldbegenerous.I’vegotmassiveamountsofpainkillerinmeatleast,sotheleg’snotgivingmemuchtrouble.Adrenalinehelps,too.Checktheboltcatchontherifle.Checkthestrapsonthemask.Inabsolutedark.Inabsoluteuncertainty.

Iftheybustthroughthebackentranceinakindofpincermaneuver,we’rescrewed.Iftheyhitwithoverwhelmingforceupfront,we’rescrewed.IfIfreezeuporscrewupatthecriticalmoment,we’rescrewed.

FreezeuplikeinDayton.ScrewuplikeinUrbana.Ikeepcirclingbacktothesamespot,andthatspotiswhereIlostmybabysister,whereIshouldhavefoughtbutraninstead.Thechainthatbrokefromherneck,lostnow,stillbindsme.Oompa.Dumbo.Poundcake.EvenTeacup,her,too:She’dstillbealiveifI’ddonemyjob.

NowthechaindroppinglikeanoosearoundNuggetandMegan,andnowthenoosetightens,thecirclecomesround.Notthistime,Parish,youzombiesonofabitch.Thistimeyoubreakthechain,youcutthenoose.

Yousavethosekidsnomatterwhat.Iwillkillthemastheyfunneldownthechute.I’llkillthemall.Doesn’tmatterthatthey’reno

differentfromme.Doesn’tmatterthey’retrappedinthesamegoddamnedgame,boundlikemetoplayaparttheydidnotchoose.Iwillkillthemonebyone.

Absolutedark.Absolutecertainty.Theexplosionknocksmeoffmyfeet.Iflybackward;myheadcrashesagainststone;theuniverse

spinslikeatop.Theairboilswiththesoundofrocksmashingagainstrockastheentrancecollapses.

ThemaskgotknockedsidewayswhenIhit,andItakeahugebreathofnoxiousgas.Aknifeplungesintomylungs,firefillsmymouth.Irolltomyside,gaggingandcoughing.

Ilosttherifleinmyfall.Isweeptheareaaroundme,can’tfindit,nevermind,doesn’tmatter,knowwhatmatters,haulingmyselftomyfeet,yankingthemaskbackintoplaceandtastingpulverizedrockonmytongue,limpingbackthewayIcame,onehandsearchingthedarkness,theothergrippingmysidearm,knowingwhat’scomingnextbecauseIcalleditandRingerknewIcalledit,that’sprobablysecond,andI’mscreamingthroughthemask,“Don’tmove,Nugget!Don’tmove!”butIdon’tthinkanybodycanhearmyvoicebutme.

Thesecondexplosionhitsatthebackentrance,andIstayonmyfeetthoughthefloorripplesandstalactitesbreaklooseandsmashdown,abigonemissingmyheadbyacoupleofinches.IcanhearNuggetfaintlycallingmyname.Ilockinonthesoundandfollowitbacktothecrevice.Ipullhimout.

“They’vesealedusin,”Igasp.Mythroatburns.I’veswallowedfire.“Where’sMegan?”“She’sokay.”Icanfeelhimshaking.“She’sgotBear.”Icalltoher.Atinyvoicemuffledbyagasmaskcomesback.Nugget’sclutchingmyjacketwith

bothhandslikethedarkmightsnatchmeawayifheletsgo.“Weshouldn’thavestayedhere,”Nuggetcries.Outofthemouthsofbabes,buttherewasnowheretorun,nowheretohide.Werolledthedicethat

Bob’schopperwoulddrawthemoff,andwelost.Thebomber ’sgottabeonitswaywithapayloadthatwillturnthis250,000-year-oldcaveintoaswimmingpooltwomileslongandahundredfeetdeep.

We’vegotminutes.ItakeNuggetbytheshoulders.Squeezehard.“Twothings,Private,”Itellhim.“Weneedlightand

weneedexplosives.”“ButRingertookallthebombswithher!”“Sowe’llmakeanotherone,realquick.”Weshuffletowardtheweaponschamber,Nuggetleadingtheway,myhandsstillonhisshoulders.

Isteadyhim,hesteadiesme,thechainthatbindsus,thechainthatsetsusfree.

75SOMETHINGI’MFORGETTING.Whatisit?

Nuggetbendslowoverhistask.Thechamber ’schokedwithsmokeanddust;it’sliketryingtoputtogetherajigsawpuzzleinheavyfog,notunlikethiswholefreakinginvasion.Thefamiliarblastedintoamillionpieces,animpossiblejumblewherenopieceseemstofitwithanother.Theenemyiswithinus.Theenemyisnot.They’redownhere,they’reupthere,they’renowhere.TheywanttheEarth,theywantustohaveit.Theycametowipeusout,theycametosaveus.Andtheshatteredtruthforeverrecedingfromyourgrasp,theonlycertaintyisuncertainty,andVoschremindingmeoftheonetruthworthhangingonto:You’regoingtodie.You’regoingtodie,andthere’snothingyouorIoranyoneelsecandotostopit.Thatwastruebeforetheycameandit’sstilltrue:Theonlycertaintyisuncertainty,exceptyourowndeath,that’sdamncertain.

Hisfingersareshaking.Hisbreathisloudandfastinsidethemask.Onewrongmoveandheblowsusbothup.Mylifeisnowinthehandsofakindergartner.

Screwingontheblastingcap.Attachingthefuse.Sullivanmightbeupsethe’sforgottenhisABCs,butatleastthelittleSOBknowshowtomakeabomb.

“Gotit?”Iask.“Gotit!”Heholdsupthedevicetriumphantly.Itakeitfromhim.OhJesus,Ihopeso.SomethingI’mforgetting.Somethingimportant.Whatcoulditbe?

76NOWONTOthenextimpossibledilemma:bustthroughthebackdoororthefront?

Onebomb.Onechance.IleaveNuggetwithMeganandchecktherearentrancefirst.Awallofrockmaybesixfeetthick,ifI’mrememberingmylandmarksright.Thenreturningthelengthofthecavetothefrontentrance.Movingtoodamnslow.Takingtoodamnlong.Finallythere,IfindexactlywhatIexpectedtofind:anotherrockwall,whoknowshowthick,andnowayoftellingifthisisthebetterwayout.

Oh,screwit.IjamthePVCpipeintothedeepest,highestcrackIcanreach.Thefuseseemstooshort;Imight

nothavetimetoreachasafedistance.Thecertaintyofuncertainty.Ilightthefuseandbookbackupthepath,draggingmybadlegbehindmelikeareluctantkidon

thefirstdayofschool.Thebangoftheexplosionseemsmuted,apitifulechoofthetwothattrappedusdownhere.

Tenminuteslater,I’vegotNuggetbyonehandandMeganbytheother.Itwasn’teasyforNuggettotalkherout.Shefeltsafeinthatcozylittlenicheandthechainofcommandwasn’tworthahillofbeanstoher.ThepersoninchargeofMeganisMegan.

Theholeatthetopofthefallisn’tverybiganddoesn’tlookverystable,butfreshairwhistlesthroughitandIcanseeapinprickoflight.Nuggetsays,“Maybeweshouldjuststayhere,Zombie.”He’sprobablythinkingthesamething:Sealtheentrypoints,stationsharpshootersatbothends,andthenit’sjustawaitinggame.Nobodymakesbunker-bustingbombsanymore.Whywastepreciousmunitionsneededfortherealwaronacouplelittlekidsandagimpyrecruit?They’llcomeout.Theyhavetocomeout.Theriskofstayingisunacceptable.

“Don’thaveachoice,Nugget.”Alsonochoiceinwhogoesfirst.IgrabhissleeveandpullhimawayfromMegan.Idon’twanthertohearthis.“Youwaitformysignal,understand?”Henods.“WhatdoyoudoifIdon’tcomeback?”

Heshakeshishead.Thelight’stooweakandthelensesonthemaskaretoocloudedformetoseehiseyes,buthisvoicequiversinpre-crymode.“Butyouarecomingback.”

“IfI’vegotaheartbeat,youbetyourassI’mcomingback.ButincaseIdon’t.”Upcomesthechin.Outgoesthechest.“I’llshoot’emallinthehead!”Iheavemyselfintothehole.Mybacksmacksagainstthetop,thesidessqueezeagainstmy

shoulders:It’sgonnabeatightfit.Halfwaythrough,Idecidetotakeoffthemask.Ican’ttakethefeelingofbeingslowlysmotheredanymore.Fresh,coldairbathesmyface.Christ,itfeelsgood.

Theopeningtotheoutsideisn’tbigenoughforoneofcatlady’sdinnerstowigglethrough.Ipunchoutthelooserockswithmybarehands.Asmidgenofnightsky,aswathofgrass,andtheone-laneaccessroadslicingthemdownthemiddle.Nosoundbutthewind.Let’sgo.

Icrawlintotheopen.Ireachfortherifleslungovermyshoulder,onlythereisnorifleslungovermyshoulder:Iforgottopickituponmywaybacktotheentrance.Sothat’swhatIwasforgetting.Thatwasit,myrifle.Right?

Squattingbesidethehole,holdingmysidearmbetweenmylegs,listening,looking,Don’trushthis;besure.Escapingthetrapisfineandwonderful,butwheretonow?Dawnisn’tfaroffandthenthemothershipbeginsherappointedrounds.Icanseeherbalancedonthehorizon,greenlikeatrafficlightsignalingGo.

Istand.Achallengingmaneuvergivenmyleg’sstiffenedupandputtingweightonithurtslikehell.HereIam,boys.Takeyourbestshot.Nothingtoseebuttheroadandgrassandthesky.Nothingtohearbutthewind.IwhistleintotheholeforNugget.Twoshorttoots,onelong.Afterahundredyearshisroundlittle

headpokesout,thenhisshoulders.Ipullhimtherestoftheway.Heripsoffthegasmaskandinhalesthefreshair,thenyanksthegunfromthebackofhispants.Heswivelslefttoright,kneesslightlybent,gunthrustforward,likecountlessboysbeforehimwithplasticgunsandwaterpistols.

IwhistleagainforMegan.Noanswer,soIcalldown,“Megan,let’sgo,girl!”Besideme,Nuggetsighsdeeply.

“She’ssoannoying.”AndhesoundssomuchlikehissisterthatIactuallylaugh.Hegivesmeacuriouslook,headtilted

slightlytooneside.“Hey,Zombie?There’sareddotonthesideofyourhead.”

77DUMBODIDN’TTHINKTWICEinUrbana.Idon’tnow.

IdiveintoNugget’schest,hurlinghimtotheground.Theroundslamsintotherockfallbehindus.AsecondlaterIhearthereportofthesharpshooter ’srifle.Theshotcamefromtheright,inthedirectionofthecopseoftreesbythemainroad.

Nuggetstartstogetup.Igrabhisankleandyankhimbackdown.“Lowcrawl,”Iwhisperinhisear.“Liketheytaughtusincamp,remember?”Hestartstorotateaone-eighty—backtowardtheholeandthefalsesecurityofthecavewithits

provisionsandweapons.Idon’tblamehim;it’smyfirstinstinct,too.Goingback,though,onlyputsofftheinevitable.Ifsmokingusoutandpickingusofffails,they’lljustcallinthebunker-busters.

“Followme,Nugget.”Iscuttletowardthewelcomecenter.Theroofisaperfectvantagepointforasharpshooter,butourbestoptionistoheadawayfromtheshooterweknowabout.

“Megan...,”hegasps.“WhataboutMegan?”WhataboutMegan?“Shewon’tcomeout,”Iwhisper.Pleasedon’tcomeout,kid.“She’llwait.”“Waitforwhat?”Forhistorytorepeatitself.Forthecircletocomeround.OnlyoneplaceIcanthinkofthat’sreasonablysafe.I’mnothappyaboutitandIknowhesureas

hellwon’tbe.Butthiskidisanythingbutsoft;he’lldeal.“Pastthebuilding,thenstraightonabouttwentyyards,”Itellhimaswescootalongonourbellies.“Bighole.Fullofbodies.”

“Bodies?”IimagineareddotshimmeringbetweenmyshoulderbladesoronthebackofNugget’shead.I’ve

goteyesonhimnow,andifIseethatreddot,I’mgoingDumboonitagain.Thegroundrisesslightlyaswenearthepit,andthenwecansmellit,andthestenchmakesNuggetretch.Ilockdownonhisarmandtughimtotheedge.Hedoesn’twanttolook,buthelooks.

“It’sjustdeadpeople,”Ichokeout.“Comeon,I’llloweryoudown.”Hepullsagainstmygrip.“Iwon’tbeabletogetbackout.”“It’ssafe,Nugget.Perfectlysafe.”Unfortunatechoiceofwords.“They’dhavetakentheshotby

nowiftheyknewwherewewere.”Henods.Makessensetohim.“ButMegan...”“I’mgoingbackforher.”HelooksatmeasifI’velostmymind.Itakehiswristsandlowerhimfeetfirstintothehole.“You

hearanything,youplaydead,”IremindNugget.“I’mgoingtobesick.”“Breathethroughyourmouth.”

Hislipspart.Iseethetinypelletglisteninginsidehismouth.Igivehimathumbs-up.Heraiseshisrighthandveryslowlyandputsitagainsthisforeheadinsalute.

78CRAWLINGAWAYfromthedeathpit,Iknowwhat’sgoingtohappen.IknowI’mgoingtodie.

Mytime’sbeenborrowedandyoucan’tcheatdeathforever.Soonerorlateryouhavetopayup,withinterest,onlypleasedon’tletNuggetandMeganbethepriceformyabandoningmysister.SoIsaytoGod,YoutookDumboforthedebt,PoundcakeandTeacup,that’senough,letthatbeenough.Takemebutletthemlive.

Thegroundexplodesinfrontofme.Clodsofdirtandstoneflyintomyface.Well,shit,crawling’spointlessnow.Iheavemyselfup,butthebadlegbuckles,anddownIgo.Thenextshotripsintomysleeve,nickingmybicepsbeforeexitingtheoppositeside;Ihardlyfeelit.InstinctivelyIcurlintoaballandwaitforthefinishinground.Iknowwhat’shappening.Thesearesoldiersofthe5thWave.Theirheartshavebeenfilledwithhate,theirmindsconditionedforcruelty.They’replayingwithme.Gonnamakeitlast,youinfestedsonofabitch.Gonnamakeitfun!

Andmysister ’sfacebeforeme,thenBo’sandCake’sandCup’s,thenmorefacesthanIcancount,facesIrecognizeandfacesIdon’t,there’sNuggetandMegan,CassieandRinger,there’stherecruitsincampandthebodiesintheprocessinghangarlaidendtoend,hundredsoffaces,thousands,tensofthousands,livinganddeadbutmostlydead.Inthepitbehindme,onelivingfaceamonghundredsthataren’t,andVosch’sruleappliestohim,too.

Handraisedinsalute.Mouthopenandthetinypelletthatglistensinside.Holyshit,Parish,thetracker.That’swhatyouforgot.Ijammyhandintothepocket,pulloutthepellet,andstuffitintomymouth.Intheclusteroftrees

acrosstheroad,ontherooftopofthewelcomecenter,andfromwhereverthehellelsetheymightbe,theshootersholdtheirfirewhenthegreeninfernothatsurroundsmyheadwinksout.

79CALLMEZOMBIE.

Everythinghurts.Evenblinkinghurts.ButI’mgettingup.That’swhatzombiesdo.Werise.Maybetheshootersdon’tnoticeatfirst.Maybethey’veturnedtheirattentionelsewhere,looking

forgreentargets.Whateverthereason,whenIgetup,nobodytakesmedown.Nohobblingthistime,nodraggingmywoundedleg,noshufflinginthedirtlikeadamnedzombie.Irunfulloutthroughthepain,callingMegan’snamenow,fingersclawinginthedarkuntiltheywraparoundherwrist.

ThenI’vegotheroutside.Herarmaroundmyneck.Herbreathinmyear.Iknowthecircle’scomplete.Iknowthebill’scomedue.Justletmesaveherfirst,dearChrist,

sufferhernottodie.Idon’tseeitcoming.Megandoes.Theteddybearfallstotheground.Hermouthfliesopenina

silentscream.Somethingsmashesintothebaseofmyskull.Theworldgoeswhite,thenthere’snothing,nothing

atall.

80CASSIE

YOUCANSEEITfrommilesaway:Theairbaseisanislandofblazinglightinadark,horizonlesssea,awhite-hotemberofcivilizationglowinginthemiddleofawastelandofblack,thoughcivilizationistooniceawordforwhatitis.Afterallwedreamedandallthosedreamswemadereal,allthat’sleftofusarethesebases,thelightedfoolstoguidehumanity’swaytodustydeath.Macbethwasnevermyfavorite,butthereyougo.Thechopperbankstotheleft,bringingustowardthebasefromtheeast.Wepassoverariver,

blackwaterreflectingtheconflagrationofstarsaboveit.Thenthetreelessbufferzonesurroundingthecampthat’slacedwithtrenchesandrazorwireandbooby-trappedwithlandmines,protectionagainstanenemywhowillnevercome,whoisn’tevenhereandmaybenoteventhere—inthemothershipthatswingsintoviewwhenweturnforthefinalapproach.Ilookatit.Itlooksbackatme.Whatareyou?Whatareyou?TheOthers,myfathercalledyou,butaren’twealsothattoyou?

Other-than-us,thereforenot-worthy-of-us.Notworthyoflife.Whatareyou?Theshepherdcullstheherd.Thehomemakerbuysthebugspray.Thebloodofthe

lambonitsknees,theherky-jerkyofthecockroachonitsback.Neitherhasaninklingoftheknifeorthepoison.Theshepherdandthehomemakerwilllosenosleep.There’snothingimmoralaboutit.It’smurderwithoutcrime,killingwithoutsin.

That’swhatthey’vedone.That’sthelessonthey’vebroughthome.We’vebeenremindedwhoweare—notmuch—andwhatwewere—toomany.Roachescanscurry,sheepcanrun,it’snomatter.We’llnevergettoobigforourbritchesagain;they’llseetothat.I’mlookingatanobjectinourskythatwillbethereuntilourskyisgone.

Ourescortspeeloffasweshootstraighttowardthelandingzone.They’llstayintheairtomonitorthesituationafterweland.There’saswarmofactivitybeneathus,trucksandarmoredHumveesracingtowardthestrip,troopsswarminglikeantsfromakicked-overmound.Sirensblare,searchlightsstabintothesky,antiaircraftgunsswingintoposition.Thisshouldbefun.

RingerpatsBobontheshoulder.“Goodjob,Bob.”“Fuckyou!”Oh,Bob.Gonnamissyou.Gonnamissyousobad.Ringerclimbsbackintotheholdwithme,grabsthebagofSammy-bombs,andplopsintotheseat

acrosstheaisle.Herdarkeyesshine.She’sthebulletinthechamber,thepowderinthehole.Youcan’tblameher.Evanpointeditoutalongtimeago:Foranyofthisshittomeananything,yougottalivelongenoughforyourdeathtomatter.Notnecessarilymakeadifference—neitherherdeathnorminewill—justtomatter.

SuddenlyIneedtopee.“VQP,Sullivan!”sheshouts.We’vetakenoffourheadsets.Inod.Giveherthethumbs-up.VQP,youbet.Ourdescentbegins.Theholdislitupbysearchlights.Motesofdustsparkleandspinaroundher

head:SaintRinger,theraven-hairedangelofdeath.OutsidethebluecircleuponwhichBobputsusdown,aringofsoldiersinsideabarricadeofarmoredvehicles,surroundedbywatchtowersmannedbysnipers,beneathfourattackhelicopterspatrollingoverhead.

Wearesodoomed.

81RINGERLEANSBACKintheseatandcloseshereyeslikeshe’sgoingtograbaquickpowernapbeforethebigfinalexam.Baginonehand,detonatorintheother.I’vegotarifle,ahandgun,averylargeknife,acoupleofgrenades,ahalf-full(thinkpositive!)bottleofwater,twohigh-energybars,andafullbladder.Bobthrottlesthechopperdownandnowyoucanreallyhearthosesirensblasting.Ringer ’seyespopopenandshestaresatmelikeshe’smemorizingmyface—IdecidethatsoIdon’tobsessaboutmycrookednose.

ThenshesayssosoftlyIcanbarelyhearher:“Seeyouatthecheckpoint,Sullivan.”One-EyedBobthrowsoffhisharness.HewhipsaroundandscreamsinRinger ’sface,“Hewanted

youtocomeback,youstupidbitch!Whydoyouthinkyou’restillalive?”Thenhefliesoutofthecockpit,hislegspumpingcartoon-fastbeforehisfeeteventouchtheground,wavinghishandsoverhisheadandscreamingloudenoughtobeheardoverthesirens.

“Pullback!Pullback!She’sgonnablow!SHE’SGONNABLOW!”Ringergoesright,andIgolefttowardaterracedgardenoffatiguesidenticaltotheonesI’m

wearing,riflespointedatmyhead,thefrontrowkneeling,backrowstanding,andthenRingerhitsthedetonatorandthechopperhopsfivefeetintheairwithanemphaticwhuuu-uuump.Theconcussionshovesmerightintothelineofsoldiers,theheatfromtheblastsingeingtheirfacesandburningawaythehairsonthebackofmyneck.Ibowlintothepackwhilethepackrevertstoitsinstincts,justlikeRingersaiditwould,everybodyflatteningonthetarmacandcoveringtheirheadswiththeirhands.You’llwanttorunbutyougottahold,Ringertoldmebackatthecave.Oncethechopperblows,

they’llloseyou,soyouhavetowaitforme.SohereIam,justanotherrecruitlyingonherbellylikethehundredothersaroundher,handsover

herhead,hercheekpressedagainstthefreezingconcrete.Dressjustlike’em,lookjustlike’em,actjustlike’em:It’sVosch’sowngameturnedagainsthim.

Peoplearescreamingordersbutnobodycanhearthemoverthesirens.Iwaituntilsomebodytapsmeontheshoulder,butI’mnohigherthanhands-and-kneeswhenRingersetsofftheIEDsomewhereinthevicinityofthehangarfiftyyardsaway.Thatsetsofffull-panicmode.Anysemblanceoforderbreaksdownastroopsrunforthenearestcover.Itakeofftowardthecontroltowerandtheclusterofwhitebuildingsbeyondit.

Ahandgrabsmyshoulder,whipsmearound,andthenI’mface-to-facewithsomerandomteenagerwho,asbadluckwouldhaveit,I’mgoingtokill.

“Whothefuckareyou?”hescreamsinmyface.Hisbodystiffens,welcomingthebullet.Notmybullet.Idon’tevenhavethegunoutoftheholster.

ThekillbelongstoRinger,Vosch’sinhumanhumanfiringfromhalfafootballfieldaway.Thekid’sdeadbeforehehitstheground.Itakeoffagain.

Iturnbackonce,atthebaseofthecontroltower.Searchlightscrisscrossingthefield,thechopperburning,squadsrunningwilly-nilly,Humveesscreechingineverydirection.ChaosiswhatRingerpromisedandchaosiswhatwegot.

Islingtherifleintomyhandsandsprinttowardthewhitebuildings,headingforthecommandcenterlocatedinthemiddleofthecomplex.ThereI’llfind(Ihope)thekeythatwillopenthelockthatbarsthedoorthatleadstotheroomthatwillkeepmybabybrothersafe.

AsIfallinbehindaclusterofrecruitscrowdingthedoorintothefirstbuilding,Ringersetsoffthesecondbomb.SomebodyyellsJesusChrist!andthelogjambreaks.Wealltumbleinsidelikeclownsburstingfromthecaratthecircus.

There’sapartofmethathopesIfindhimfirst.NotEvan.Ringer ’screator.I’veinvestedalotoftimeimaginingwhatI’ddotohim—howI’dpayhimbackforthebloodofthesevenbillion.Mostofit’stoogrosstotalkabout.

I’mmovingthroughthelobbyofthemainadministrationbuilding.Hugebannershangfromtheceiling:WEAREHUMANITYandWEAREONE.AsignthatsaysUNITYandanotherthatscreamsCOURAGE.Thelargestspansthelengthofanentirewall,VINCITQUIPATITUR.Irunbeneathit.

Aredlightspinsinthecorridorontheothersideofthelobby.Ijumpwhenavoiceboomsfromtheceiling:“GENERALORDERFOURISNOWINEFFECT.REPEAT:GENERALORDERFOURISNOWINEFFECT.THISISNOTADRILL.YOUHAVEFIVEMINUTESTOREPORTTOYOURDESIGNATEDSECURITYAREA.REPEAT.THISISNOTADRILL.YOUHAVEFIVEMINUTESTOREPORT...”

Throughthedoorattheendofthehall.Upthestairsstraightaheadtothenextdoor.Whichislocked.Withakeypad.Ipressmybackagainstthewallbesidethepadandwait.Onethousandone,onethousandtwo,onethousandthree...WhileI’mcounting,thethirdbombdetonatesoutside,amuffledpop!likesomeonecoughinginanotherroom.ThenIhearthepop-pop,pop-pop-popofsmall-armsfire.Atonethousandeight,thedoorburstsopenandasquadlumbersthrough.Rightpastme,notevenabackwardglance.Now,that’stooeasy;I’musingupmyquotaofgoodluckwaytoosoon.

Iduckthroughthedoorwayandjogdownanothercorridor,whichisdisconcertinglyidenticaltothefirstcorridor.Samespinningredlight,samehigh-pitchedUUUH-UHHHofthesiren,sameannoyingSiri-on-dopevoice,“GENERALORDERFOURISNOWINEFFECT.YOUHAVETHREEMINUTESTOREPORTTOYOURDESIGNATEDSECURITYAREA...”It’slikeadreamfromwhichyoucan’twakeup.Attheendofthishallisanidenticaldoorwithanidenticalkeypad.Theonlydifferenceisthewindowrightbesidethisdoor.

IopenupwiththeM16atfullstride.TheglassexplodesandIdivethroughtheblasted-outopeningwithoutmissingastep.AndDefianceshallbemyname!Backoutsideinthefresh,cleanCanadianair,runningacrossthenarrowstripoflandthatseparatesthebuildings.Avoicespringsfromthedark,hollering,“Halt!”Ifireinthevoice’sgeneraldirection.Idon’tevenlook.Then,offtomyleft,inthevicinityofthenewlyrepairedarmory,thefourthbombdetonates.Achopperroarsrightovermyhead,sweepingitslightsbackandforth,andIslamintothesideofthebuildingandpressmybodyflatagainstthesteel-reinforcedconcrete.

ThechoppermovesoffandImoveon,aroundthesideofthebuildingtothesliverofapaththatcutsdownitslength,wallononeside,aten-foot-highchain-linkfencetoppedwithrazorwireontheother.Thereshouldbeapadlockedgateatthefarend.Sothelock—Ishootitoff,IsaidtoRingerbackinthecaves.Thatonlyworksinthemovies,Sullivan.

Yeah,you’reright:It’sgoodthisisn’tamovie,orthehectoring,self-important,annoyingsecondarycharacterwoulddefinitelybedeadbynow.

“THISISNOTADRILL.GENERALORDERFOURISNOWINEFFECT.YOUHAVETWOMINUTESTOREPORT...”Allrightalready,Igetit.GeneralOrderFourisineffect.WhatthehellisGeneralOrderFour?

Ringernevermentionedanythingaboutgeneralorders,fourorotherwise.Itmustmeanalockdownofthebase,allhandstobattlestations,thatkindofthing.That’swhatIdecide.Anyway,whattheydodoesn’tchangewhatIhavetodo.

Ijamagrenadeintothediamond-shapedholeinthechainlink,rightabovethelock,pullthepin,thenhustlebackthewayIcame,farenoughnottogetkilledbytheshrapnel,butnotfarenoughtoescapebeingpepperedbyathousandtinyneedles.IfIhadn’tturnedawayatthelastsecond,myfacewouldhavebeenshredded.Thelargestpiecehitsrightinthemiddleofmyback,wasp-stingsharptimesten.Mylefthandgotataste,too.Ilookdownandseeawetgloveofbloodglisteninginthestarlight.

Thegrenadedidn’tjusttakeoutthelock;itblewtheentiregatefromitshinges.It’shalfwayacrossthecourtyard,rightnexttothestatueofsomewarherofromthedayswhenwarshadheroes.Youknow,thegoodol’dayswhenweslaughteredeachotherforalltherightreasons.

Itrottowardthebuildingontheothersideofthecourtyard.Therearethreedoorsevenlyspacedalongthewallfacingme,andoutofone,two,orallofthemIcanexpectawelcomingcommittee,accordingtoRinger.I’mnotdisappointed.Themiddledoorfliesopenrightbeforemysecondgrenadefliestowarditand,predictively,somebodyyells,“Grenade!”Theyslamthedoorclosed—withthegrenadeinside.

Theblasthurlstheentiredoortowardmyhead.Idiveoutoftheway.Thisiswhereitgetshard,Ringersaid.There’sgonnabeblood.Howmuchblood?Howmuchcanyoutake?Whatareyou,mysenseiorsomething?Howmany5thWaversamIgoingtohavetokill?Asitturnsout,atleastthree.Icountthatmanysemiautomaticrifleslyingontheothersideofthe

missingdoor,butit’saneducatedguess.Hardtotellwhenthetroopshavebeenblowntopieces.Islipthroughthemessandsprintdownthehall,leavingbloodybootprintsinmywake.

Redlight.Siren.Voice.“GENERALORDERFOURISNOWINEFFECT.YOUHAVEONEMINUTETOREPORT...”Somewhereonthebase,thenextbombgoesoff,meaningtwothings:Ringer ’sstillatlarge,andshe’sgotonebombleft.I’mabuildingawayfromthecommandcenter,beneathwhichisthebunkerthathousestheWonderlandroom.It’salso,asRingerpointedoutnumeroustimes,adeadend.Ifwegettrappedorcornered,therewon’tbeanyvincitingtoourpatituring.LittleRedRidinghoodLostHerWay.TheclevermnemonicdeviceIcameupwithtonavigatethis

next-to-lastbuilding.Ihangaleftatthefirstjuncture,thenaright,thenanotherright,thenaleft.Herstandsforhigh,meaningIhitthefirststairwellafterLost.Ofcourse,Icouldhavejustusedthewordhigh,butthatwouldruinthemnemonics.LittleRedRidinghood’sLostHighway?Comeon.

Idon’tseeanyone,don’thearanyoneexcepttheeerieGeneralOrderFourvoiceechoingdowntheemptyhalls—“YOUHAVETHIRTYSECONDS”—andnowI’mstartingtogetaverybadfeelingaboutthisGeneralOrderFourbusiness,andI’mcursingRinger,becauseobviouslyGeneralOrderFourmustbeanimportantpieceofintelsheeithershouldhaveknownaboutorchosenottomentionforreasonsonlycleartoher.

AsIraceupthestairs,thefinalcountdownbegins:“TENSECONDS...NINE...EIGHT...SEVEN...SIX...”

Landing.Onemoreflight.Thenstraightaheadtothewalkwaythatconnectsthisbuildingwiththecommandcenter.Almostthere,Cassie.You’vegotthis.

“THREE...TWO...ONE.”Ishoveopenthedoor.Totaldarknesssmashesdown.

82NOLIGHT.NOSIREN.Novoicesosoothing,it’sunnerving.Totaldark,uttersilence.MyfirstthoughtisthatRingermusthavecutthepower.Mynextthoughtishowoddthatwouldbe,sinceweneverdiscussedcuttingthepower.Mythirdthought?Sameastheoneonthechopper:Ringer ’saplant,adoubleagent,workingwithVoschtoaccomplishhisnefariousschemefortotalworlddomination.Probablyapower-sharingarrangement:Verywell,it’sdecided.YouwillcontrolallterritorywestoftheMississippi...

Idigintomypocketsforthepenlight.IknowIgrabbedone.Ispecificallyremembercheckingthebatteriesbeforetuckingitaway.Inmypanic—okay,notpanic,haste,Iaminhaste—Ipulloutapowerbarandthumbtheswitchthatisnotthere.Damnyouandyourdamnbars,BenParish!Ihurlthebarintothevoid.

I’mnotdisoriented.IknowwhereIam.Straightaheadisthewalkwaytothecommandcenter.IcanhuntforthelightasIgo.Nobiggie.OnceI’minthecenter,there’reacoupleofheavilymannedcheckpointstopass,severalsteeldoorswithelectroniclockstobreach,fourflightsofstairs,amile-longhallwayterminatingatagreendoor,whichIwon’tbeabletotellisgreenunlessIcanfindmyfuckingpenlight.

Ishuffleforward,onehandsweepingtheairinfrontofme,theotherpatting,digging,fumbling,andclawingatmyfatigues.Toomanypockets.Toomanydamnpockets.Mybreathatornadorippingacrosstheprairie.Myheartafreighttrainrumblingdownthetracks.ShouldIstopandemptyallmypockets?Wouldn’tIendupsavingtime?Ikeepmoving,partofmemarvelingatthefactthatsomethinglikelosingapenlightcouldthrowme.Chill,Cassie.Insituationslikethis,darknessisyourfriend.Unlessthey’vegotIR,whichofcoursetheydo.They’veblindedme;they’resureashellnotblind.Ikeepmoving.Inhaste.Notpanic.Halfwayacrossthewalkwaynow.IknowI’mhalfwayacrossbecauseIfindthelightandclickon

thedamnedelusivething.Thebeamhitsthefrostedglassdoorsstraightahead,ablurryblobofshininess.Idrawmysidearm.Ontheothersideofthosedoorsisthefirstcheckpoint.Iknowthisforafact—oraRinger-suppliedfact.It’salsoourrendezvousspot,basicallybecausethisisasfarasIwasgoingtogetasanon-enhanced,ordinarymortal.

Thecommandcenteristhemostheavilyfortifiedbuildingonbase,mannedbyelitetroopsandprotectedbystate-of-the-artsurveillancetechnology.AftershesetoffherlastdiversionaryIED,Ringerwashittingthecenterfromtheoppositeend(penetratingwasthewordsheused,whichmademefeelallicky)andmeetingmehere,afterRingerdidwhatRingerdoesbest:killpeople.AreyoukillingVoschbeforemeetingme?Iasked.IfIfindhimfirst.Well,don’tgooutofyourway.ThequickerwecangettoWonderland...

Andshegavemealooklike,Don’ttellme.SoIrespondedwithalookthatsaid,I’mtellingyou.Nothingtodonowbutwait.Isidesteptothewall.Switchoutthehandgunfortherifle.Trynotto

worryaboutwheresheis,ifsheis,andwhat’stakinghersolong.Also,Ineedtopee.SowhenIhearyousetoffthefifthbomb...Fourth.I’mholdingthefifthinreserve.Reserveforwhat?I’mgoingtostuffitinhismouthandlightit.Shesaiditwithnoemotion.Nohateorsatisfactionoranticipationoranything.Sure,shesays

mostthingsunemotionally,butthiswasoneofthosethingswhereyouexpectalittlepassiontopermeate.Youmustreallyhatehim.Hateisn’ttheanswer.Ididn’taskaquestion.Itisn’thateanditisn’trage,Sullivan.Okay,then.Whatistheanswer?FeelinglikeI’vebeenmanipulatedintoaskingthequestion.Sheturnedaway.Iwaitbesidethefrostedglassdoors.Theminutescrawl.DearGod,howlongcouldittakea

superhumanWMDtoovercomeafewguardsandfoilahigh-techsecuritysystem?Afterthefuriousrushtoreachthisspot,nothing.I’dbeboredoutofmymindifIwasn’talreadyscaredoutofit.WherethehellisRinger?Click.Iturnoffthelighttosavethebatteries.Theunfortunateby-productofmythriftinessisthat

darknessreturns.Click.On.Click.Off.Click,click,click,click.Hissssss.IhearthesoundbeforeIfeelthewater.It’sraining.

83CLICK.ISHINETHELIGHTtowardtheceiling.Thesprinklersarerunningatfullthrottle.Coolwaterspattersmyupturnedface.Great.OneofRinger’sbombsmusthavetriggeredthesystem.I’msoakedinminutes.Ittotallyisn’tfair,Iknow,butIblameher.I’mwet,I’mcold,I’mhypedon

adrenaline,andnowIreallyhavetopee.AndstillnoRinger.HowlongdoIwaitforyou?Idon’tknowhowlongitwilltake.Sure,butatsomepoint,won’titbeobviousyou’renotcoming?Thatwouldbethepointwhenyoustopwaiting,Sullivan.Well,right.I’mreallyregrettingnotpoppingherinthenosewhenIhadthechance.Wait.Ididpop

herinthenosewhenIhadthechance.Good.Onelessthing.Ican’tsithereforeverhunchedoverinawet,miserableball.Ifit’smydoomtobewetand

miserable,I’mgoingtomeetitstandingup.I’lltestthosedoors.Justalittlepushtoseeifthey’llopen.Therecan’tbeanyonecloseontheotherside,otherwisethey’dhaveseenmylightornoticedmyshadowandpouncedonmeinthedark.

Theartificialraindripsdownmyforehead,hangsfromtheendsofmyhair,tracesmyjawlikealover ’sfinger.Watersquishesbeneathmyboots.Mywoundedhandhasbeguntosting,stingbad,athousandtinyneedlesstabbingintomyskin,andthenInoticetheburningsensationonmyscalp.Thefeelingspreads.Myneck,myback,mychest,mystomach,myface.Myentirebodyisonfire.Istumblefromthedoorsbacktomycozyspotagainstthewall.Somethingisnotright.Theancientpartofmybrainisscreamingitslungsout.Somethingisnotright.

Iclickonthepenlightandshineitonmyhand.Hugeweltscrisscrosstheskin.Freshbloodseepsfromtheshrapnelholesandquicklyturnsadeep,velvetypurple,asifmybloodisreactingtosomethinginthewater.Somethinginthewater.Theheatisnearlyunbearable,likeI’vebeendousedwithscalding-hotwater,onlytheliquidfalling

onmeisn’thot.Ishinethelightonmyotherhand.It’scoveredwithbright,dime-sizedredpolkadots.Hastily—notpanicky—Iyankopenthejacket,pullupmyshirt,andseeastarfieldofcrimsonsunsburningagainstabackdropofpalepink.

I’vegotthreeoptions:standherestupidlybeneaththepoisonedspray,stupidlybustthroughthefrostedglassdoorsintoGod-knows-what,orwiselygetoutofthiscomplexbeforemyskinliquefiesandsloughsoffmybones.

IdecidetogowithOptionThree.

Mylittlelightslicesthroughthemist,cuttingrainbowsasIrun.Ibangintothestairwell,bounceagainstthewall,slipontheslickconcrete,andtumbledowntothelanding.Thepenlightfliesfrommyhandandwinksout.Gottagetoutside,outside,outside.Oncethere,I’llstripoffmyclothesandrollnakedinthedirtlikeapig.Hotmatchstickspressingagainstmyeyes,tearsstreamingdownmycheeks,hotcoalssearingmymouthandthroat,andeveryotherinchofmybodypuckeringupintopestilentialboils.What’sthat,Cassie?Whatkindofboils?NowIgetit.NowIunderstand.Cutthepower.Openthefloodgates.Unleashthepestilence.GeneralOrderFouristheinvasionin

microcosm,theacousticalversionofthefirstthreeworldwidewaves,sametune,differentlyrics,andanyintrudercaughtintheirwakehumanity’savatar.

Whichwouldbeme.Iamhumanity.Outside,outside,outside!I’monthemainfloor,themainwindowlessfloorbasedonmymemory

sinceIhavenolightandnoglowingredexitsigntoguidetheway.Notinhasteanymore.Infull-borepanic.

BecauseI’vebeenherebefore.Iknowwhatcomesafterthe3rdWave.

84SILENCER

TENMILLENNIAADRIFT.Tenthousandyearsunboundedbyspaceortime,strippedofthesenses,purethought,substance

withoutform,motionwithoutgesture,paralyzedforce.Thenthedarksplitopenandtherewaslight.Airfillingitslungs.Bloodmovingthroughitsveins.Imprisonedfortenmillenniainsideits

limitlessmind,nowfinite.Nowfree.Itclimbsthestairstowardthesurface.Redlightpulsing.Sirenblaring.Ahumanvoiceassaultingitsears:“GENERALORDERFOURISNOWINEFFECT.YOUHAVEONEMINUTETOREPORTTO

YOURDESIGNATEDSECUREAREA.”Itrisesfromthedeep.Thedoorabovebangsopenandatroopofthemammalianverminthunderstowardit.Juveniles

carryingweapons.Intheconfinedspaceofthestairwell,theirhumanstenchisoverwhelming.“Whatareyou,fuckingdeaf?”oneofthemshouts.Thevoiceisgrating,thesoundoftheir

languageugly.“We’reGO-Four,dipshit!Getyourassbackdownintothatbunk—”Itsnapsthejuvenile’sneck.Theothersitkillswithequalefficiencyandspeed.Theirbodiesgather

arounditsfeet.Brokennecks,bursthearts,shatteredskulls.Intheinstantbeforetheydied,perhapstheylookedintoitseyes,blankandunblinking,ashark’seyes,thesoullesspredatorrisingfromthedepths.

“THREE...TWO...ONE.”Thestairwellplungesintodarkness.Anordinaryhumanwouldbesightless.Itshumancontainer,

though,isnotordinary.Ithasbeenenhanced.Inthefirst-floorhallwayofthecommandcenter,thesprinklersystemburststolife.TheSilencer

liftsitsfaceanddrinksthelukewarmspray.Ithasnottastedwaterintenmillennia,andthesensationisbothjarringandexhilarating.

Thecorridorisdeserted.Theverminhaveretreatedintosaferooms,wheretheywillremainuntilthetwointrudershavebeensilenced.

Silencedbytheinhumanthinginsidethishumanbody.Inthedownpour,thewetjumpsuitquicklymoldstoitspowerfulphysique.Itisunburdenedbythis

body’shistory;ithasnomemoryofchildhoodorthefarmwhereitsshellwasraised,norecollection

ofthehumanfamilywholovedandnurturedit,thesamewhodied,onebyone,whileitstoodbyanddidnothing.

Itfoundnogirlhidinginsideatentinthewoods,arifleinonehandandateddybearintheother.Itnevercarriedherbrokenbodyacrossaseaofwhite,neverpulledherbackfromtheedgeofdeath.Therewasnorescueofherorherbrother,novowtoprotectheratallcosts.

Thereisnothinghumanleftinit,nothinghumanatall.Itdoesnotrememberthepast;therefore,thepastdoesnotexist.Itshumanitydoesnotexist.Itdoesnotevenhaveaname.Theenhancementinformsitthatachemicalagenthasbeenintroducedintothewater.Itwillfeel

noneofthepoison’seffects.Ithasbeendesignedtoendurepain,tobeimmunetosuffering,itsownanditsvictims’.Theancientshadasayingforthis,vincitquipatitur,anditappliedtothevanquishedaswellastothevictor.Toconquer,youmustendurenotjustyourownsufferingbutthesufferingofothers.Indifferenceistheultimateevolutionaryachievement,thehighestrungonnature’sladder.TheoneswhocreatedtheprogramdrivingthehumanbodythatwasoncecalledEvanWalkerunderstoodthis.Theyhadstudiedtheproblemforthousandsofyears.

Thefundamentalflawinhumanitywasitshumanity.Theuseless,baffling,self-destructivehumantendencytolove,toempathize,tosacrifice,totrust,toimagineanythingoutsidetheboundariesofitsownskin—thesethingshaddriventhespeciestotheedgeofdestruction.Worse,thisoneorganismthreatenedthesurvivalofalllifeonEarth.

TheSilencer ’smakersdidnothavetolookfarforasolution.Theanswerlayinanotherspeciesthathadconqueredtheentiretyofitsdomain,rulingitwithunquestionedauthorityformillionsofyears.Beyondtheirimmaculatedesign,thereasonsharksruletheoceanistheircompleteindifferencetoeverythingexceptfeeding,procreation,anddefendingtheirterritory.Thesharkdoesnotlove.Itfeelsnoempathy.Ittrustsnothing.Itlivesinperfectharmonywithitsenvironmentbecauseithasnoaspirationsordesires.Andnopity.Asharkfeelsnosorrow,noremorse,hopesfornothing,dreamsofnothing,hasnoillusionsaboutitselforanythingbeyonditself.

OnceahumannamedEvanWalkerhadadream—adreamitcannolongerremember—andinthatdreamtherewasatentinthewoodsandinthattenttherewasagirlwhocalledherselfhumanity,andthegirlwasworthmoretoitthanitsownlife.

Nolonger.Whenitfindsher,anditwillfindher,itwillkillher.Withoutremorse,withoutpity.Itwillkillthe

onewhomEvanWalkerlovedwithalltheemotionofamansteppingonacockroach.TheSilencerhasawakened.

85ZOMBIE

THEFIRSTPERSONISEEisDumbo.That’showIknowI’mdead.Igowhereyougo,Sarge.Well,Bo,thistimeitlookslikeI’vegonewhereyouwent.Iwatchthroughashimmeringfogashepullsacoldpackfromhismedkitandbreaksthesealto

mixthechemicals.Thefamiliarseriouslookonhisface—themaskofworry—likethewelfareoftheentireworldrestsonhisshoulders,I’vemissedthat.

“Acoldpack?”Iaskhim.“Whatthehellkindofheavenisthis,anyway?”Hegivesmehisshut-up-I’m-workinglook.Thenhepressesthepackintomyhandandtellsmeto

holditagainstthebackofmyhead.Hisearslooksmallerintheshimmeringfog.Maybethat’shisheavenlyreward:smallerears.

“Ishouldn’thaveleftyou,Bo,”Iconfess.“I’msorry.”Hefadesintothefog.IwonderwhoI’llseenext.Teacup?Poundcake?MaybeFlintstoneorTank.I

hopeitisn’tmyoldtentmate,Chris.Myparents?Mysister?Thinkingofseeingheragainmakesmystomachtighten.DearGod,wehavestomachsinheaven?Iwonderwhatthefoodislike.

Thefacethatswimsintoviewisn’toneIknow.It’sablackgirlaroundmyage,withmodel-perfectcheekbonesandbeautifuleyes,thoughthere’snowarmthinthem.Theyshinehardaspolishedmarble.She’swearingfatigueswithsergeant’sstripesonthesleeves.

Damn.Sofartheafterlifeisdepressinglylikemyforelife.“Whereisshe?”thegirlasks.Shesquatsinfrontofmeandrestsherforearmsonherthighs.Leanbody,likearunner ’s.Long,

gracefulfingers,nicelytrimmednails.“I’mgonnamakeyouapromise,”shesays.“Iwon’tbullshityouifyoudon’tbullshitme.Where

isshe?”Ishakemyhead.“Idon’tknowwhoyou’retalkingabout.”Thecoldpackfeelsdeliciouslygood

againstmythrobbinghead,andthat’sabouttheonlythingthatdoes.It’sstartingtodawnonmethatImightnotbesodeadafterall.

Shereachesintoherbreastpocket,pullsoutacrinkledpieceofpaper,andtossesitintomylap.DearGod,there’sRingerlyinginahospitalbedwithtubesrunningeverywhere,somekindofscreenshotfromavideocamera.MusthavebeentakenaroundthetimeVoschloadedherupwiththe12thSystem.

Ilookupatthesergeantandsay,“I’veneverseenthispersonbeforeinmylife.”

Shesighs,thenpicksupthephotoandstuffsitbackintoherpocket.Shestaresacrossthebrownfieldsshimmeringintheblazeofstarlight.Thefogliftsalittle.Abrokenwoodenrailing,thefadedwhitewallofafarmhouse,andthesilhouetteofasilooverhershoulder.I’mguessingwe’reonthefrontporch.

“Wherewasshegoing?”thegirlasks.“Andwhatwasshegoingtodowhenshegotthere?”“Judgingfromthatpicture,she’snotgoinganywhereanytimesoon.”Thekids.WhathaveyoudonewithMeganandNugget?Ipressmylipstogethertoholdthe

questioninside.TheyhaveMegan,nodoubtaboutthat—shewaswithmewhenMountRushmorefellonmyhead.MaybenotNugget,though.Maybehe’sstillhidinginthepit.

“YournameisBenjaminThomasParish,”sheinformsme.“AkaZombie,formerrecruitandcurrentsergeantofSquad53,whichwentDorothylastfallandhasbeenontheruneversincetheoperationyouledthattookoutCampHaven.YourformersquadisdeadorMIA,withtheexceptionoftheprivatewhosepictureIjustshowedyou.MarikaKimura,akaRinger,whohascommandeeredoneofourchoppersandisnowonaheadingduenorthofthisposition.Wethinkweknowwhereshe’sgoing,butwewouldliketoknowwhyandwhatsheintendstodoonceshegetsthere.”

Shewaits.I’mthinkingthepausehasbeenofferedformetofillinthesilence.Ringer ’sfullnameisMarikaKimura.WhydidIhavetolearnherfirstandlastnamefromtotalstrangers?

Thesilencedragsout.She’sgivingoffthevibethatshecouldwaitforever,eventhoughwebothknowshedoesn’thavethatlong.

“I’mnotDorothy,”Ifinallysay.“Oneofusis,butitisn’tme.”Sheshakesherhead.“Dude,you’resofaroffthereservation,Ican’tseeyouwithafrickin’

telescope.”Shegrabsmychinwiththoselongfingersandsqueezes.Hard.“Idon’thavethepatienceforthisshitandyoudon’thavethetime.What’stheplan,SergeantZombie?What’sRinger ’sgame?”

Damn,she’sstrong.Ihavesometroubleopeningmymouthtotalk.“Chess.”Sheholdsontomychinforanothersecond,thenletsgowithadisgustedsnort.Shemotions

towardthefrontdoorofthefarmhouseandtwofiguresemerge,onetall,theothershort—Nugget-sizedshort.

ThesergeantstandsupandpullsNuggetinfrontofher,twostronghandsgrippinghisshoulders.“Talk,”shesays.Nugget’seyesstaringintomine.“Saysomething,”sheorders.Sheunholstershersidearmandpressesthemuzzleagainstthesideofhishead.Nuggetdoesn’t

evenflinch.Hedoesn’twhimperorcryout.Hisbodyisasstillashiseyes,andhiseyesaresaying,No,Zombie.No.

“Doitandseewhatyouget,”Itellher.“I’lldothemboth,”shepromisesme.“Firsthim,thenthegirl.”Shemovestheguntothebackof

Nugget’shead.Idon’tunderstandatfirst,thenIwishIdidn’t.Whenshepullsthetrigger,I’llgetafacefulofNugget’sbrains.

“Okay,”Isay,keepingmyvoicelevel—oraslevelaspossible.“Thenyoucandome.Thenwe’realldeadandyoucanexplainthatinconvenientfacttoyourCO.”

AndthenIdosomethingthattotallythrowsheroffguard,whichisthepurpose,thegeniusbehindthedesignthat’sworkedsinceIwastwelveyearsold:Ismile.Thefull-onParishSpecial.

“Whatwasitbeforeallthisshitwentdown?”Iaskher.“Sprinter,right?Orwasitlong-distance?Me,itwasfootball.Widereceiver.NotmuchspeedbutIhadhands.”Inod.“Ihadhands.”IlookoverNugget’sheadintohereyes.Icanseestarlightglintinginthem,sparkinglikesilverfire.“What

happenedtous,SergeantSprinter?Whathavetheydonetous?Ayearago,couldyouimagineblowingoutthebrainsofalittlekid?Idon’tknowyou,butsomehowIdon’tthinkso.CallmeDorothy,butIdon’tthinkthereweretenoutofsevenbillionpeoplewhocould.Nowwestuffbombsdowntheirthroatsandputgunstotheirheadslikeit’sthemostnaturalthingonEarth,likeputtingonclothesorbrushingourteeth.Youwonderwhat’snext.Imean,afteryoureachthatpoint,canyougoanylower?”

“ThisiswhatIneed,”shesays,baringherteethtomocktheParishSpecial.“Youworkin’yourDorothyshit.”

“Marika’sgoingbacktotheplacewherethatpicturewastaken,”Itellher,turningoffthesmile.Nugget’seyesgrowwide:Zombie!No!“Onceshegetsthere,she’sgoingtofindtheassholewhofuckedusover—her,you,me,andeverybodyelseinthishemisphere—andwhenshefindshim,shewillkillhim.Thenshe’sprobablygoingtokilleverybrainwashedrecruitonthatbase.Andwhenyougoback—ifyoumakeitbackbeforethatbiggreenmotherfuckeruptherestartsshittinggreenbricksofdeath—she’llkillyou,too.”

Iswitchthesmilebackon.Dazzling.Brilliant.Irresistible.Well,atleastthat’swhatpeopletoldmebackintheday.“Nowputdownthatgun,SergeantSprinter,andlet’sgetthefuckoutofhere.”

86I’MYANKEDtomyfeetandshovedintothehousewithNugget,Megan,andtwooffensive-lineman-sizedguyswho’veremovedtheirjacketsjusttoshowhowtoughtheyare.Theyhaveidenticaltattoosontheirrippedbiceps:VQP.Wehanginthefrontparlor,Meganonthesofaholdingtheteddybear,Nuggetgluedtomyside,thoughheisn’thappywithmerightnow.

“Youtold,”heaccusesme.Ishrug.“Bullet’sleftthechamber,Nugget.Notmuchtheycandoaboutitnow.”Heshakeshishead.Themetaphor ’slostonhim.Ileanoverandwhisperinhisear:“AtleastI

didn’ttellthemaboutCassie,right?”Thementionofhissister ’snamenearlysendshimovertheedge.Hisbottomlipjutsout;hiseyes

fillup.“Hey,okaynow,what’sthis?Huh?Private,youractionstonighthaveshownextraordinary

courageaboveandbeyondthecallofduty.Youknowwhatafieldpromotionis?”Nuggetshakeshisheadsolemnly.“No.”“Well,youjustgotone,CorporalNugget.”Iplacetheedgeofmyhandtomyforehead.Hischestpopsout,hischincomesup,hiseyesburn

withtheol’Sullivanfire.Hereturnsthesalutesmartly.Ontheporch,thesargeishavingaheateddebatewithhersecond-in-command.Thetopic’sno

mystery;youcanhearthemclearlythroughtheopendoor.They’vecompletedthemission,the2ICargues,timetooffthesebastardsandreturntobase.Captureandcontain,thesargeshootsback.Myordersdon’tsaynothingaboutoffinganybody.She’swavering,though;youcanhearitinhervoice.Her2ICcomesbackwithmypointaboutthebomb-shittingbeastinhighorbit:WhatevershedecidesabouttheDorothys,theyhavetoreturntobasebeforedawnorenjoyafront-rowseattoArmageddon.

Thescreendoorbangsopenandshechargesrightuptomyface,closeenoughformetocatchawhiffofperfume.It’sbeensolongsinceIsmelledanythatmyheadachedisappearsinasingle,wondrousinstant.

“How’sshegonnadoallthis?”sheshouts.“Howcanoneperson...?”“Itonlytakesone.”Myquietanswerincounterpointtoherloudquestion.“Justone,andtheworld

changes.It’snotunheard-of,Sergeant.”Shestaresatmewiththosedark,flintyeyesfilledwithahundreddaggersoflight.“Corporal,”she

snapstoher2ICwithoutlookingawayfrommyface,“we’rebuggingout.Escorttheprisonerstothechopper.They’regonnatakealittletripdowntherabbithole.”Thentome:“YourememberWonderland.”

Inod.“Isuredo.”

87BLACKBIRDRISING,theEarthfallingaway—fromtheair,thecavernsareinvisible.Thefarmhouseandthefieldsshinesilver,andtheblastofcoldwindislikethevoiceoftheworldscreaming.ThelasttimeIrodeinachopper,Iwasheadingbacktoadifferentcamp,onamissiontosavethekidwhositsbesidemenow,whoseonce-roundfaceisnowleanandsternandfullofgrimpurpose.Onedayhe’llaskhisgrandkids,EvertellyouaboutthetimeIwaspromotedtocorporalattheageofsix?

Hisgrandkids.AccordingtoRinger,they’llbefightingthesamewarheis.Sowilltheirgrandkidsandtheirgrandkids’grandkids.Thewarthatcan’tendwhiletheenemy’sshipsailsserenelyoverourheads.Howcoulditendwhenallourdescendantshavetodoislookup?

LikeSergeantSprinterwatchingmefromacrossthenarrowaisleofthehold.Theperfectlyscaryandscarilyperfectthingabouttheirplanisitdoesn’tmatterthatsheknowsI’mTed-free.Whoever’snotwithusisagainstus.Thatkindofthinkingnearlybroughtanendtohistory,morethanonce.Thistimeithas.

Ilookawayfromherfacetothescreamingworldoutsidethechopper.Ican’tseetheground.Justthethinblacklineofthehorizon,thecongregationofamillionstars,andthegreeneye-shapedorbthathangsjustabovethelineseparatingheavenfromEarth.

Someone’stouchingmythigh.Andit’snotthesomeoneIexpect.Dirty,scratched-uphands,chippednails,pencil-thinarms,pinchedface,aheadfuloftangledhairdespiteSullivan’svaliantattemptstokeepitcombed.Itouchthathair,drawingitbacktotuckbehindherear,andMeganglancesshylyatmebutdoesn’tpullaway.Thelasttimesherodeinachopper,thepeopleshetrustedhadjustplacedabombinsideherthroat.Thesamepeopleshewasgoingbacktonow.Howdoyoudealwithsomethinglikethat?Howdoyoumakeitmakesense?Ialmostsayit;thewordspushagainstmylipsandalmostescape.Notgoingtoletithappen,Megs.Thistimeyou’resafe.

Thesergeantisshoutingsomethingovertheheadset.Icatchonlyabout10percent.Gofour?Gofour,yousure?AndWegotthejuiceforthat?Andabunchofexpletivesyoureallycan’tincludeinthepercentage.AthearingthewordsGofour,theotherrecruitsintheholdtightenup.Idon’tknowwhatthehellGofourmeans,butitdoesn’tsoundgood.

Notgoodatall.

88RINGER

FROMTHEROOFofthecommandcenter,Ihearthewindowshattertwohundredyardsaway.Abodytumblesoutandwrithesinthedirtbeneaththebrokenwindow,itsuniformspeckledwithshardsofglass,groaninginpain.Ican’tseeherface—butevenfromthisdistance,Irecognizethetangleofstrawberrycurls.

Isprintacrosstherooftop,leapfortyfeettotheroofoftheadjacentbuilding,thenjumpthreestoriestotheground.Sullivanseesmybootshitthegrassafootfromherheadandscreams.Shefumbleswithhersidearm.Ikickitoutofherhandandhaulhertoherfeet.Heruniformissoaked.Hereyesareswollenandred,herfacepockmarkedwithangrycrimsonboils.She’sshakinguncontrollably,goingintoshock.I’llhavetoactfast.

Ithrowherovermyshoulderandsprinttowardasmallstorageshedlocatedonthebacksideofthebuilding.Thedoor ’spadlocked.Ibustitapartwithonekickandcarryherinside.Thehubprocessesthedatatransmittedbytheolfactorydrones:somethinginthewater,somethingtoxic.

Istripoffherjacket.Ripoffhershirtandundershirt.Slippinginandoutofconsciousness,shebarelyresists.Boots,socks,pants,underwear.Herskin’sinflamedandclammytothetouch.Ipressmyhandagainstherchest;herheartslamsagainstmypalm.Ilookintoherweeping,unseeingeyesandshovemywayintoher.Thetoxinwon’tkillher—Ihope—butherterrormight.

Itampdownthepanictoslowherheart.Theprimitivepartofherbrainpushesback:Thefight-or-flightresponseisolderandmorepowerfulthanthetechnologyIcontain.Thestrugglecontinuesforseveralminutes.

Ourhearts,thewar.Herbody,thebattlefield.

89ITHROWMYJACKEToverherbareshoulders.Shepullsittightacrossherchest,agoodsignthatIhaven’tlostheryet.

“Where.Thehell.Wereyou?”“Watchingthisentirecampbunker-dive,”Itellher.“They’vecutthepower...”Shelaughsharshly,thenturnsherheadandspits.Herspittleisfleckedwithblood,andIthinkof

theplague.“Didthey?Ihadn’tnoticed.”“It’sprettysmart,”Isay.“Flushusoutside,whereouroptionsarelimited,thendispatchenhanced

personneltofinish—”She’sshakingherhead.“Wehavenooptions,Ringer.Wonderland.Wehavetogetto

Wonderland...”Shetriestostand.Herkneesbuckleandshegoesdown.“Wherethefuckaremyclothes?”

“Here,takemine.I’llwearyours.”Forsomereasonshelaughs.“Commando.That’sfunny.”Idon’tgetit.IcanfeelthetoxinwormitswayintomylegsafterIpullonherfatigues,andthousandsof

microscopicbotsswarmtoneutralizeitseffects.Ihandhermydryshirt,shrugintoherwetone.“Thepoisondoesn’tdoanythingtoyou?”sheasks.“Idon’tfeelanything.”Sherollshereyes.“Ialreadyknewthat.”“I’lltakeitfromhere,”Itellher.“Youstay.”“Likehell.”“Sullivan,theriskis—”“Idon’tgiveashitaboutyourrisk.”“I’mnottalkingabouttherisktothemission.Yourrisk.”“Thatdoesn’tmatter.”Shestandsup.Thistimeshestaysup.“Where’smyrifle?”Ishakemyhead.“Didn’tseeit.”“Okaythen.Whataboutmygun?”Itakeadeepbreath.Thisisn’tgoingtowork.She’smorealiabilitynowthananasset,andshe’s

neverbeenmuchofanasset.She’llslowmedown.Shemightgetmekilled.Ishouldleaveherhere.KnockheroutifIhaveto.Screwourdeal.Walker ’sdead;hemustbe;there’snoreasonVoschwouldkeephimaliveoncehe’sbeendownloadedintoWonderland.WhichmeansSullivanisriskingeverythingfornothing.

Iam,too.ForsomethingIcan’tevenputintowords.ThesamesomethingIsawinhereyesthatIcannotname.SomethingthathasnothingtodowithVoschoravengingwhathe’sdonetome.It’smoreimportantthanthat.Moresolid.Butthat’saboutascloseasIcancometodescribingit.

Somethinginviolable.ButIdon’tsayanyofthat.Mymouthcomesopenandthesewordscomeoutinstead:“Youwon’t

needaweapon,Sullivan.You’llhaveme.”

90ILEAVEHERforalittlewhile.FirstImakeherpromisetostay.She’snotinterestedinmakingpromises;shewantstohearthem.SoIpromiseI’llcomebackforher.

SheseemsbetterwhenIgetback.Herfaceisstillred,butthehivesorboilsorwhatevertheywerehavealmostdisappeared.She’snothappyaboutit,butshethrowsherarmaroundmyneckandleansagainstmeonthewaytothecommandcenter.

Theentirebaseiseerilyquiet.Ourfootstepsfalllikethunder.You’rewatchingus,IsilentlytellVosch.Iknowyou’rewatching.Sullivanpushesawaywhenwereachthedoor.

“How’reyougonnadothis?”shedemands.“We’llbeburnedalivebythetoxin.”“Don’tthinkso.Ijustshutoffthewatermain.”Ismashmyfistthroughthesteeldoorandpushdownthebarontheoppositeside.Noalarm

sounds.Nolightblindsus.Nobulletstakeusdown.Thesilenceisstifling.Sullivanbreathesinmyear,“It’sthewaves,Ringer.Thepower.Thewater.Theplague.Youknow

what’snext.Youknowwhat’scoming.”Inod.“Iknow.”Wefindthebodiesinthestairwellthatleadstotheundergroundcomplex.Sevenrecruits,no

blood,andnotascratchonthem.Obviously,whoeverdidthiswasenhanced.Twoofthekidshavetheirheadscompletelytwistedaroundsotheystareupatus,thoughtheirbodiesarefacedown.IhandSullivanoneoftheirpistols.Wepickourwaythroughthepileandcontinuedown.Sheholdstheguninonehand;theotherisclutchingmysleeve.Shecouldn’tseetherecruitsanddidn’taskwhathappenedorwhatIsaw.Sheeitherdoesn’twanttoknoworshefiguresitdoesn’tmatter.Onlyonethingmatters,shesaid.She’sright.I’mjustnotsureeitheroneofuscanexplainwhatthat

is.Attheverybottomthereisdarknessandsilenceandahallwayevenmyenhancedeyescannotsee

theendof.ButIrememberwhereIam.I’vebeenherebefore,beneaththeconstantglow.ThisiswhereRazorfoundme,rescuedme,gavemehope,andthenbetrayedme.

Istop.Herhandgripsmysleevehard.“Ican’tseeagoddamnedthing,”Sullivanwhispers.“Where’sthegreendoor?”“You’restandinginfrontofit.”Ieasehertoonesideandtrotdownthehalladozenyardstogetarunningstart.ForallIknow,

evenanenhancedhumanbeingcan’tbustthroughthatdoor ’slockingmechanism.Nochoice,though.Halfwaytothedoor,I’vereachedfullvelocityandnearlydon’thavethespacetopullupwhenSullivanstepsinfrontofmeandtriesthehandle.

Thedooropens.Islidesixfeettoastop.AndI’mgladshecan’tseethestartledexpressiononmyface.She’dlaugh.

“Theydon’tneedtolockthedoorifthere’snopower,”shepointsout.“Wonderlandneedsjuice,right?”

Ofcourseshe’sright.Ifeelstupidfornotforeseeingtheobvious.“Iunderstand,”shesays,readingmymind.“You’renotusedtofeelingstupid.Trustme,youget

usedtoit.”Shesmiles.“MaybeWonderlandhasitsowndedicatedpowersystem—justincase.”Westepintotheroom.Sullivanclosesthedoorbehindus.Herfingertipsbrushoverthedead

keypadforasecondbeforedroppingtoherside.Aftereverything,hercapacitytohopehasnotdied.“Whatnow?”sheasksafterI’vepressedseveralbuttonsontheconsolewithnoresult.Idon’tknow,Sullivan.You’retheonewhodemandedwecomeherewhenyouknewtheykilledthe

power.“There’snobackup?”sheasks.“You’dthinkit’dhavebatteriesorsomething,incasethey

accidentallylostpower.”Thenshesays,moretofillthesilencethananythingelse,“I’llstayhere.Yougofindthepower

stationorwhateverandgetthelightsbackon.”“Sullivan.I’mthinking.”“You’rethinking.”“Yes.”“That’swhatyou’redoing.Thinking.”“It’swhatIdobest.”“AndallthistimeIthoughtkillingpeoplewaswhatyoudidbest.”“Well,ifIhadtopicktwothingstobereallygoodat...”“Don’tjoke,”shesays.“Ineverdo.”“See?That’sfundamental.That’sacriticalflaw.”“Soistalkingtoomuch.”“You’reright.Ishouldkillmoreandtalkless.”I’mrunningmyhandsalongthetabletop.Nothing.Idroptothefloorandcrawlbeneaththe

counter.Atangleofwires,couplings,extensioncords.Istandup.Onthewall,flat-screenmonitors—nocords,probablywirelesslyconnectedtothesystem.NothingelsetoWonderlandexceptthekeyboard,buttherehastobesomethingelse.Whereisthedatastored?Where’stheprocessor?Ofcourse,thisisalientechnology.Voschcouldbecarryingtheprocessorinhispocket.Itcouldbeonachipthesizeofasinglegrainofsandembeddedinhisbrain.

Themostpuzzlingthingistherisk.Wonderlandisavitalpieceofmachinery,animportantcomponentinthewinnowingofthe5thWave,keytopickingoutthebadapples,includingEvanWalker,themostrottenappleinthebarrel.

Theroomisdry.Nosprinklerscameoninhere.Sowhere’sthepower?Thepowermightbeoutineveryotherpartofthecomplex,butitshouldbeoninthisroom.Theriskistoogreat.

“Ringer?”Beingunabletoseemehasunnervedher.Iseeherhandreachingoutinmydirection.“Whatareyouthinkingaboutnow?”

“Theycan’trisklosingpowertoWonderland.”“WhichiswhyIaskedaboutbackupbatteriesor—”Stupid.Stupid,stupid,stupid.IhopeSullivanisright.IhopeIcangetusedtofeelingstupid.Istep

aroundherandhitthelightswitch.Wonderlandcomestolife.

91CASSIESITS.Thewhitechairwhines.Sherotatesbacktofacethewhiteceiling.Ifastenedherin.

“I’veneverdonethis,”sheconfesses.“Almost,backatCampHaven.”“Whathappened?”“IstrangledDr.Pamwithoneofthesestraps.”“Goodforyou,”Isaysincerely.“I’mimpressed.”Istepovertothekeyboard.I’mcertainI’llbeaskedforapassword.I’mnot.Itoucharandomkey

andthelaunchpagepopsuponthecentralmonitor.“What’sgoingon?”sheasks.Shecan’tseeanythingfromthechairexceptthewhiteceiling.Databank.“Foundit.”Iclickthebutton.“Nowwhat?”shedemands.Everythingisincode.Thousandsofnumericalcombinations,whichIguessrepresentthe

individualswhosememorieshavebeencapturedbytheprogram.ImpossibletoknowwhichsequenceisWalker ’s.Wecouldtrythefirstone,andifthatisn’thim,workourwaydownthelist,but—

“Ringer,you’renottalking.”“I’mthinking.”Shesighsloudly.ShewantstosaysomethinglikeIthoughtyousaidyouweregoodatthat,butshe

doesn’t.“Youcan’tfigureoutwhichoneisEvan’s,”shesaysfinally.“We’vegoneoverthis,”Iremindher.“EvenifIcouldlocatehisdata,youdon’tknowthathis

memorieswillleadyoutohim.Afterhewasdownloaded,Voschprobably—”Sheliftsherheadasfarasshecanfromthechairandsnaps,“He’sintheresomewhere.Giveme

allofthem.”AtfirstI’msureIdidn’thearhercorrectly.“Sullivan,therearethousandsofthem.”“Idon’tcare.I’llgothrougheverygoddamnedonetillIfindhim.”“I’mprettysureitdoesn’tworkthatway.”“Oh,whatthehelldoyouknow,huh?Howmuchdoyoureallyknow,Ringer,andhowmuchof

whatyou‘know’isshitthatVoschwantsyoutoknow?Thetruthisyoudon’tknowshit.Idon’tknowshit.Nobodyknowsshit.”

Herheadflopsback.Herhandsclutchthestraps.Maybeshe’sthinkingofstranglingmewithone.“YousaidVoschdownloadedthemall,”shegoeson.“Andthat’showheknewthewayto

manipulateyou.Hecarriesallthosememoriesinsidehim,soitmustbesafe.Perfectlysafe.”I’mreadytoexecutethecommand,iffornothingelsebuttoshutherup.“Whyareyouafraid?”sheasks.Ishakemyhead.“Whyaren’tyou?”

Ihittheexecutebutton,sendingtensofmillionsofunfilteredmemoriesintoCassieSullivan’sbrain.

92HERBODYJERKSagainsttherestraints.Thefabricstartstotear;itmayripapart.Thenshestiffenslikesomeonesufferingaseizure.Hereyesrollbackinherhead.Herjawclenches.Oneofherfingernailssnapsoffandfliesacrosstheroom.

Onthemonitorsthesequencesracebyinablur,toofastevenformyenhancedvisiontofollow.Howmuchdataiscontainedinthemindsoftenthousandpeople?What’shappeningtoSullivanisliketryingtostuffthesolarsystemintoawalnut.Itwillkillher.Hermindwillblowapartlikethesingularityatthemomentofcreation.

I’venodoubtVoschusedWonderlandtodownloadindividuals’experiences—I’mcertainhedownloadedmine—Ialsohavelittledoubtthoseexperienceswerepurgedsomehowaftertheyservedtheirpurpose.Nosinglehumanbeingcancontainthesumofallthathumanexperience.Attheleast,itwouldshatteryourpersonality.Howcanyouholdontothecoreofyourrealityinthemidstofsomanyalternatives?

Sullivanmoans.Hercriesaresoft,comingfromdeepinhergut.She’sweak.Youknewbetter.Youshouldhavetakenherplace.Thetechnologythey’veinfectedyouwithcouldhandlethis;the12thSystemwouldhaveprotectedyou.Whydidyouletherdoit?

ButIknowtheanswertothatquestion.The12thSystemcanonlyenhancethehumanbody—itishelplessagainstfear.ItcannotgivemetheonethingthatCassieSullivanhasinabundance.

IthoughtIknewwhatcouragewas.IwasevenarrogantenoughtolectureZombieaboutit.ButIhadnoideawhattrue,undilutedcouragewasuntilthismoment.ThatunidentifiablesomethingIsawinhereyesispartofit,therootfromwhichhercouragesprang.

Myfingerhoversovertheabortbutton.Woulditbeanactofcouragetopushit?Orthefinalfailureofmyhumanside—thepartofmethathopeswhenthereisnohope,believeswhenthereisnoreasontobelieve,trustswhenalltrusthasbeenbroken?WouldpushingthebuttonbeVosch’sultimatevictoryoverme?See,Marika,evenyoubelongtousnow.Evenyou.

It’soverinlessthanfiveminutes.Aneternalfiveminutes;theuniversetookshapeinlesstime.Themonitorsgoblank.Cassiegoeslimp.Iapproachhergingerly.I’mafraidtotouchher.Afraid

ofwhatImightfeel.I’minfearformyownmind,myownsanity.Plungingintoasinglehumanconsciousnessisdangerousenough;Ican’tfathombeingimmersedinthousands.

“Cassie?”Hereyelidsflutter.Iseethewhiteceilingreflectedinhergreeneyes.Andsomethingelse.

Somethingshocking.Nothorror.Notsorrow.Noconfusionorpainorfear.NoneofthethingsshemusthavefoundinWonderland.

Instead,hereyes,herface,herentirebodyhasignitedwiththeoppositeofallthosethings,thereallalong,unconquerable,undefeatable,immortal.Therootofhercourage.Thefoundationofalllife,oftenobscured,neverlost.

Joy.Shetakesalong,shudderingbreathandsays,“We’rehere.”

93HERFACEGLOWS.Hereyesshine.Asmileplaysonherlips.

“Youwouldn’tbelieve...,”shewhispers.“Youdon’tknow...”Ishakemyhead.“No,Idon’t.”“It’ssobeautiful...sobeautiful...Ican’t.OhGod,Marika,Ican’t...”She’ssobbing.Itakeherfaceinmyhands,beggingthehubtokeepmeout.Idon’twanttobe

wheresheis.Idon’tthinkIcouldbearit.“Sammy’shere,”shecries.“Sammy’shere.”Andshestrainsagainstthefrayedrestraintsasifshe

couldsomehowwrapherarmsaroundhim.“AndBen,he’shere,too.OhGod,ohChrist,Icalledhimbroken.WhydidIdothat?He’sstrong...he’ssostrong,nowondertheycan’tkillhim...”

Hereyesroamthefeaturelesswhite.Hershouldersshake.“They’reallhere.DumboandTeacupandPoundcake...”

Ibackawayfromher.Iknowwhat’scoming.It’slikewatchingarunawaytrainbearingdown.Ifightanearlyoverwhelmingurgetorun.

“I’msorry,Marika.Abouteverything.Ididn’tknow.Ididn’tunderstand.”“Wedon’thavetogothere,Cassie,”Imutterweakly.Please,don’tgothere.“Helovedyou.Razor...Alex.Hecouldn’tadmitittoanyone.Hecouldn’tevenadmititto

himself.Heknewbeforehediditthathewoulddieforyou.”“Walker,”Isayhoarsely.“WhataboutWalker?”Sheignoresmeorshedoesn’thearthequestion.Sheishereandsheisnot.SheisCassieSullivan

andsheiseveryoneelse.Shehasbecomethesumofus.“Rainbowfingers,”shegasps,andIstopbreathing.She’sseeingmyfather ’shandholdingmine.

Sheremembersthewaythatfelt,thewayitmademefeel,myfather ’shandinmine.“We’reoutoftime,”Isay,topullheroutofmymemories.“Cassie,listentome.IsWalkerthere?”Shenods.Shestartstocryagain.“Hewastellingthetruth.Therewasmusic.Andthemusicwas

beautiful...Iseeit,Marika.Hisplanet.Theship.Whathelookedlike...ohmyGod,that’sdisgusting.”Sheshakesherheadtocleartheimage.“Marika,hewastellingthetruth.It’sreal...it’sreal...”

“No,Cassie.Listentome.Thosememoriesaren’treal.”Shescreams.Shethrashesagainsttherestraints.ThankGodIhaven’tuntiedheryetorshemight

tearoutherowneyes.Idon’thaveachoicenow.I’llhavetoriskit.Igrabhershouldersandforceherbackintothechair.Acacophonousblastofemotionsexplodes

inmymindandforasecondI’mafraidI’llblackout.Howdoessheendureit?Howcanonemindbeartheweightoftenthousandothers?Itdefiescomprehension.It’sliketryingtodefineGod.

InsideCassieSullivanisahorrorsoprofound,therearenowords.ThepeopledownloadedintoWonderlandlosteverypersonwhomatteredtothem,andmostofthosedownloadedpeoplewerechildren.Theirpainishersnow.Theirconfusionandsorrow,theirangerandhopelessnessandfear.It’stoomuch.Ican’tstaywithinher.IstumblebackwarduntilIsmackagainstthecounter.

“Iknowwhereheis,”shesays,catchingherbreath.“Oratleastwherehemightbe,iftheybroughthimbacktothesameplace.Untieme,Marika.”

Ipickuptherifleleaningagainstthewall.“Marika.”Iwalktothedoor.“Marika.”“I’llbeback,”Imanagetochokeout.ShescreamsmynameagainandnowIdon’thaveachoice.Ifhehasn’theardusbefore,he’s

certaintohaveheardhernow.BecauseIhaveheardhim.Someoneisdescendingthestairsattheotherendofthemile-longcorridor.I’mnotsurewhoitis,

butIknowwhatitis.AndIknowwhyit’scoming.“You’llbesafehere,”Ilie.Thehopefulkindoflieyoutellchildren.“Iwon’tletanythinghappen

toyou.”Iopenthedoorandstaggerfromlightintodarkness.

94EVENWITHMYENHANCEDSPEED,Iwon’tbeabletoreachthestairwaydoorbeforehedoes.Butwithalittleluck,IcangetwithinthefiringrangeofanM16.

I’mcertainit’sVosch.Whoelsecoulditbe?HeknowsI’mhere.HeknowswhyI’mhere.Creatortohiscreation,creaturetohercreator,that’sourbond.Onlyonewayformetobreakit.Onlyonewaytobefree.

Iexplodedownthehallway,ahumanmissile.Ihearhimcoming.Hemusthearmecoming.TherangeofanM16is550meters,one-thirdofamile.Thehubcalculatesmyspeedandthe

distancetothestairwell.Notgoingtohappen.Iignorethemathandkeeprunning.Ninehundredmeters—eight—seven.Theprocessorembeddedinmycerebralcortexgoesberserk,runningthenumbersoverandover,comingupshort,andsendingmemessagesofescalatingurgency.Runback.Findcover.Notime.Notime,notime,notimenotimenotimenotime.

Iignoreit.Idon’tservethe12thSystem.The12thSystemservesme.Unlessitdecidesthatitwon’t.Thehubpullstheplugonthedronesthatenhancemymuscles:Ifitcan’tstopme,atleastitcan

slowmedown.Myspeeddrops.Abandoned,I’mrunninglikeanordinaryhuman.Ifeelchainedandunboundatthesametime.

Thelightsinthehallblazetolife.Thestairwaydoorfliesopenandatallfigurelurchesintoview.Iopenfire,chargingforward,closingthegapasfastasIcan.Thefigurestumbles,careensagainstthefarwall,andbringsupitshandsinstinctivelytocoveritsface.

I’minrangenow—Iknowit,theenemyknowsit,andthehubknowsit.It’sover.Ilockinonthefigure’shead.Myfingertightensonthetrigger.

ThenIseeabluejumpsuit,notacolonel’suniform.Wrongheight.Wrongweight,too.Ihesitateforaninstantandinthatinstantthefigurelowersitshands.

MyfirstthoughtisforCassie—thatshesufferedWonderlandwhenWonderlandwasn’tnecessary.Sheriskedeverythingtofindhim...untilhefoundher.

EvanWalkerhasaknackforfindingher;healwayshas.IstopahundredmetersawaybutIdon’tlowermyrifle.Betweenhisleavingandourreunion,

there’snotellingwhathappened.Thehubagreeswithme.Noriskifhe’sdead,enormousriskifhe’snot.Whatevervaluehehadisgonenow,containedintheconsciousnessofCassieSullivan.

“Where’sVosch?”Iask.Withoutaword,helowershisheadandcharges.He’shalvedthedistancebeforeIopenfire,first

overridingthehub’sinsistenceIaimforthehead,thenitsdemandIretreatbeforehereachesme.Iputsixroundsintohislegs,thinkingthatwilldrophim.Itdoesn’t.BythetimeIgiveintothehub’sshriekingcommand,it’stoolate.

Heknockstheriflefrommyhands.SofastIdon’tseetheblowcoming.Don’tseethenextone,either,thefistthatsmashesintothesideofmyneck,hurlingmeintothewall.Theconcretecracksonimpact.

Iblink,andhisfingerslockaroundmythroat.AnotherblinkandIbreaktheholdwithmyleftandpunchashardasIcanwithmyright,deadcenterintohischesttobreakhissternumanddrivetheshatteredboneintohisheart.It’sasifIrammedmyfistintoathree-inch-thickplateofsteel.Thebonecracksbutdoesnotbreak.

Iblinkagain,andnowmyfaceispressingagainstcoolconcreteandthere’sbloodinmymouthandbloodonthewallI’vebeenrammedinto—onlyitisn’tawall;it’sthefloor.I’vebeenflungahundredyardsandlandedflatonmystomach.Toofast.Hemovesfasterthanthepriestatthecaverns,fasterthanClaireintheinfirmary

bathroom.FasterthanVosch,even.Itdefiesthelawsofphysicsforahumanbeingtomovethatfast.Beforethealienprocessorinmybrainusesthenanoseconditneedstocalculatetheodds,Iknow

theoutcome:EvanWalkerisgoingtokillme.Heliftsmefromthefloorbytheankleandslingsmeagainstthewall.Theblockssplinter.Sodoa

numberofmybones.Hedoesn’tletgo.Hesmashesmybodyagainsttheotherwall.Backandforthuntiltheconcretebreaksapartandrainstothefloorinafallofdustygray.Idon’tfeelanything;thehubhasshutdownmypainreceptors.Heliftsmybodyoverhisheadandslamsitdownagainsthisupraisedknee.

Idon’tfeelmybackbreakbutIhearitmagnifiedathousandtimesbytheauditorydronesembeddedinmyears.

Hedropsmylimpbodytothefloor.Iclosemyeyes,waitingforthecoupdegrâce.Atleasthe’llmakeitquick.AtleastIknowthatthe12thSystem’sfinalgifttomewillbeapainlessdeath.

Hekicksmeontomyback.Thenhekneelsbesideme,andhiseyesarefathomlesspits,blackholesthatnolightcanpenetrateorescape.Nothinglivesinthoseeyes,neitherhatenorragenoramusementnorthemildestcuriosity.EvanWalker ’seyesareasblankasadoll’s,hisstareasunblinking.

“Thereisanother,”hesays.“Whereisit?”Hisvoiceisaffectless,withoutatraceofhumanity.WhoeverEvanWalkerwasbeforeisgone.

WhenIdon’tanswer,thethingthatwasEvanWalker,withobscenegentleness,cupsmyfaceinitshandsandslicesintomyconsciousness.Theentityrapingmysoulisitselfsoulless,alien,other.Ican’tpullaway;Ican’tmoveatall.Withenoughtime—timethatitdoesn’thave—the12thSystemmightbeabletorepairthedamagetomyspine,butfornowI’mparalyzed.Mymouthcomesopen.Nosoundcomesout.

Itknows.Itreleasesme.Itrises.Ifindmyvoice,andIscreamasloudasIcan.“Cassie!Cassie,it’scoming!”Itlumbersdownthehalltowardthegreendoor.Andthegreendoorwillopen.Shewillseehimwitheyesthathaveseenallthathe’sseenanda

heartthat’sfeltallhehasfelt.She’llthinkhehascometosaveher—thathislovewilldeliverheronceagain.

Myvoicewiltsintoapitifulwhimper.“Cassie,it’scoming.It’scoming...”Nowayshehearsme.Nowayforhertoknow.Iprayshewon’tseeitcoming.IpraythatthethingthatwasonceEvanWalkerwillbequick.

95SILENCER

ATTHEENDofthehallisagreendoor.Ontheothersideofthegreendoorisawhiteroom.Insidethatroomitspreyisboundtoawhitechair,thegoattiedtoastake,thewoundedsealtrappedinapowerfulcurrent.Itwillcrushherskull.Itwillripherheartstillbeatingfromherchestwithitsbarehands.TheoneEvanWalkerhadsavedonthatfirstdaysouponthisfinaldayhissoullessremainscankillher.Thereisnoironyinthiscruelty;thereisonlycruelty.

Butthechairisempty.Itspreyhasvanished.TheSilencerexaminesthestrapsthatheldherarms.Hair,skin,blood.Shemusthaverippedherselffree.

Itlowersitshead,listening.Itshearingisexquisitelyacute.Itcanheartheotherhumanbreathingnearlyamileawayattheotherendofthecorridor,theonewhosebackithadbroken,whosebonesithadshatteredagainsttheconcretewalls.Itcanhearthebreathsofthesoldiershuddledinsaferoomsthroughoutthebase,waitingfortheallcleartosound,theirquietvoices,therustleoftheiruniforms,theirgallopinghearts.Itcanheartheelectricitythrummingthroughthewiresinsidethewallsoftheroom.Itsiftsthroughtheconfusingjumbleofnoisetoisolateitsprey.Itseeksasingleheartbeat,asolitarybreathcloseby;shecan’thavegonefar.

Thereisnosatisfactionwhenitpinpointsherlocation.Asharkfeelsnosatisfactionatthedetectionofthebabysealinthesurf.

Itlungesfromtheroomonlegsitcannotfeel:Theprocessorinitsbrainhasnullifiedthepainfromthewounds,andthearterialdroneshaveshutofftheflowofbloodtothebullets’entrypoints.Itslegsareasnumbasitsheart,asinsensitiveasitsmind.

Threedoorsdown,ontheright.Itstandsforamomentoutsidethedoor,frozen,handslooseatitssides,headbowed,listening.Somehowitspreyhadknownthecombinationandenteredthisroom.Itdoesnotponderhowshecouldknowthecode.Itdoesnotpausetoconsiderwhythegirlwasinthewhiteroomorwhathadhappenedtoherthere.Wherethepreycamefromanditslifebeforeitgotthere—thesethingsareirrelevant.Beneaththeseal’ssilhouetteonthesurface,thebeastrocketsupwardfromthedeep.

Sheisclose—veryclose.Ithearsherbreathontheothersideofthedoor.Itdiscernsthebeatofherheart.She’spressingherearagainstthedoor,listening.

TheSilencer ’shanddrawsback,fingerscurledintoafist.Rotatingitshipsintotheblowtomaximizeforce,itsmashesitsfistthroughthereinforceddoor.

Ontheothersidethepreyrecoils,buttoolate;itcatchesahandfulofherhair.Sheripsfreewithastartledscream,leavingbehindawadofcurlsinitshand.

TheSilencertearsthedoorfromitshingesandspringsinside.Thepreyisscramblingacrossthewetfloor,slippingasshegoes,betweentworowsofjunctionboxesthatlineeithersideofthenarrowaisle.

Ithascorneredherinoneofthecomplex’selectricalrooms.Thereisonlyonewayout,andtoescape,shemustpasstheSilencer—andthatwillbeimpossible.

TheSilencerdoesnotrush.Thereisnohurry.Itglidesacrossthepuddledwaterdeliberately,closingthegap.Thepreypausesnearthebackwall;perhapssherealizesshehasnowheretorun,noplacetohide,nochoicebuttoturnandfacethethingthatsoonerorlatermustbefaced.Sheveerstoherrightandjumps,reachingforahandholdinthethree-footspacebetweenthetopofaboxandtheceiling.Herhandwrapsaroundoneoftheincominglinesandshehaulsherselfintothetinyniche.

She’strapped.Theoldestpartofitshumanbrainisalertedbeforethehighlyadvancedprocessorembeddedinits

cerebralcortex:Somethingisnotright.TheSilencerpausesinitscharge.Item:Athick,rust-coloredhigh-voltagecorddanglingloose—cutorpulledfreefromthejunction

box.Item:Athinsheetofwatercoversthefloorandpoolsarounditsfeet.Theprocessorinitsbraincannotslowdowntimebutcanslowdownthehost’sperceptionofit.In

theacheoftimegrindingtoacrawl,thepowerlinefallsfromtheprey’shandinagraceful,sweepingarc.Thelightsparksofftheexposedwiresastheydescendlanguidlyassnow.

Toofarfromthedoorwaytorun.AndtheboxesoneithersideoftheSilencerareflushwiththeceiling;noopenspaceintowhichitcanjump.

TheSilencerleaps,extendingitsbodytoitsfulllengthparalleltotheground,flyingafootabovethefloor,armoutstretched,fingersspreadwide,itsonlyhopetocatchthecrimsoncordbeforeitmakescontactwiththewater.

ThelinethatgracefullyfallsslipsthroughtheSilencer ’sfingers.Thelightglintsoffthewiresastheytouchground,silently,likefallingsnow.

96RINGER

I’VEBEENHEREBEFORE,lyinghelplesslybeneaththeconstantsterileglow.Razorwouldcometomewhilemybodyfoughtthelosingbattleagainstthefortythousand

invaderstheenemyinjectedintoit.Razorwouldcometome,andhiscomingwouldsustainme,thehopeheofferedthetetherthatkeptmefromhurtlingendlesslythroughthevoid.

Hediedtosaveme,andnowhischildwilldiewithme.Thestairwaydoorslams.Bootsechoonthestonefloor.Iknowthesound.Irecognizetherhythm

ofhisstride.That’swhytheSilencerdidn’tkillyou.Itwassavingyouforhim.“Marika.”Voschtowersoverme.Heistenthousandfeettall,fashionedfromsolidrock,animpregnable

battlementthatcannotbebroken,thatcannotfall.Hisazureeyesshineashelooksdownonmefromunscalableheights.

“You’veforgottensomething,”hetellsme.“Andnowit’stoolate.Whathaveyouforgotten,Marika?”

Achildburststhroughthebrittlestalksofwinter-killedwheat,carryingacapsule-sizedbombwithinitsmouth.Humanbreathenfoldsthechildandeverythingisengulfedingreenfire,andafterwardnothingremains.

Thepill.Hispartinggiftinthebreastpocketofmyjacket.Iwillmyhandtoriseandmyhandwon’tmove.

“Iknewyouwouldcomeback,”Voschsays.“Whoelsewouldhavethefinalanswerbuttheonewhocreatedyou?”

Thewordsdieonmylips.Icanstillspeak,butwhat’sthepoint?HealreadyknowswhatIwanttoask.It’stheonlyquestionIhaveleft.

“Yes,Ihavebeeninsidetheirship.Andit’sasremarkableasyou’veimagined.Ihaveseenthem—oursaviors—and,yes,theyarealsoasremarkableasyou’veimagined.Theyaren’tphysicallythere,ofcourse,butyou’vealreadyguessedthat.Theyarenothere,Marika.Theyneverwere.”

Hiseyesglowwiththetranscendentaljoyofaprophetwhohasseenheaven.“Theyarecarbon-basedlikeus,andthatiswhereallsimilaritiesend.Ittookthemaverylongtime

tounderstandus,toacceptwhatwashappeninghereanddevisetheonlyviablesolutiontotheproblem.Likewise,ittookmeaverylongtimetounderstandandaccepttheirsolution.It’sdifficulttoignoreyourownhumanity,tostepoutsideyourselfandseethroughtheeyesofawhollyother

species.That’sbeenyourparticularproblemfromthebeginning,Marika.Ihadhopesthatonedayyouwouldconquerit.YouaretheclosestI’veevercometoseeingmyselfinanotherhumanbeing.”

Henoticessomethingaboutmyfaceandkneelsbesideme.Hisfingerpressesagainstmycheek,andmytearrollsoverhisknuckle.

“Iamgoingaway,Marika.Youmusthaveguessedthat.Myconsciousnesswillbepreservedforalltimeaboardthemothership,eternallyfree,eternallysafefromwhatevermayhappenhere.Thatwasmyprice.Andtheyagreedtopayit.”Hesmiles.Thesmileiskind,afathertohisbelovedchild.“Areyousatisfiednow?HaveIansweredallyourquestions?”

“No,”Iwhisper.“Youhaven’ttoldmewhy.”Hedoesn’tscoldabouthavingjusttoldmewhy.HeknowsI’mnotaskingabouthismotivation.“Becausetheuniversehasnolimits,butlifedoes.Lifeisrare,Marika,andthereforeprecious;it

mustbepreserved.Iftheymaybesaidtohaveanythingresemblinghumanfaith,itisthat.Alllifeisworthyofexistence.TheEarthisnotthefirstplanettheyhavesaved.”

Hecupsmycheekinhishand.“Idon’twanttoloseyou,”hesays.“Virtueshavebecomevices,andyou’vesaidityourself:Thisparticularvicefollowsnorules,evenitsown.Ihavecommittedamortalsin,Marika,andonlyyoucanabsolveme.”

Heslipshishandbeneathmyheadandliftsitgentlyfromthefloor.Hekneelsbesideme,creator,father,cradlingmyheadinhishands.

“Wefoundit,Marika.TheanomalyinWalker ’sprogramming.Theflawinthesystemisthatthereisn’tone.

“Doyouunderstand?It’simportantthatyouunderstand.Thesingularitybeyondspaceandtime,theundefinableconstantthattranscendsallunderstanding—theyhadnoanswerforit,sotheygavenone.Howcouldthey?Howcouldlovebecontainedinanyalgorithm?”

Hiseyesstillsparkle,thoughnowwithtears.“Comewithme,Marika.Letusgotogether,toaplacewherethereisnomorepain,nomoresorrow.Allofthiswillbegoneinaninstant.”Hewaveshishandtoindicatethebase,theplanet,thepast.“They’lltakeawayanymemorythattroublesyou.Youwillbeimmortal,foreveryoung,foreverfree.Theywillgivemethat.Grantmethegracetogiveyouthat.”

Iwhisper,“Toolate.”“No!Thisbrokenbody,it’snothing.Worthless.It’snottoolate.”“Itisforyou,”Itellhim.Behindhim,CassieSullivantakesthecue.Shepressestheguntothebackofmycreator ’shead

andpullsthetrigger.

97THEGUNFALLSfromherhand.Sheswaysonherfeet,staringdownatVosch’sbodyandthesemicircleofbloodthatslowlyexpandsbeneathhishead,creatinganobscenemockeryofahalo.She’sfoundherselfinamomentshe’sdreamedofforaverylongtime,butshedoesn’tfeelwhatshethoughtshewouldfeel.Itisn’tthemomentoftriumphandrevengeshethoughtitwouldbe.Whatshefeels,Ican’ttell;herfaceisexpressionless,hergazeturnedinward.

“Evan’sgone,”shesaysinadeadvoice.“Iknow,”Itellher.“He’stheonewhodidthistome.”HereyesslidefromVoschtome.“Didwhat?”“Brokemyback.Ican’tmovemylegs,Cassie.”Sheshakesherhead.Evan.Vosch.Me.Toomuchtoprocess.“Whathappened?”Iask.Sheglancesdownthehallway.“Theelectricalroom.Iknewexactlywhereitwas.Andthecodeto

thedoor,Iknewthat,too.”Sheturnsbacktome.“Iknowpracticallyeverythingaboutthisbase.”Hereyesaredrybutshe’sabouttobreak;Icanhearitinhervoice,filledwithsickwonder.“I

killedhim,Ringer.IkilledEvanWalker.”“No,Cassie.Whateverattackedmewasn’thuman.IthinkVoscherasedhismemory—hishuman

memoryand—”“Iknowthat,”shesnaps.“It’sthelastthingheheardbeforetheytookitfromhim:‘Erasethe

human.’”Shecatchesherbreath.Hisexperiencesarehersnow.Shesharesthehorrorofthatmoment,thelastmomentofEvanWalker ’slife.

“Andyou’resurehe’sdead?”Iask.Shewavesherhandhelplesslyintheair.“Prettydamnsure.”Shefrowns.“Youleftmetiedtothat

fuckingchair.”“IthoughtIhadtime...”“Well,youdidn’t.”Theoverheadspeakerspop.“GENERALORDERFOURISNOWRESCINDED.ALLACTIVE-

DUTYPERSONNELTOREPORTIMMEDIATELYTOBATTLESTATIONS...”Icanhearthesquadsexitingtheirbunkersaroundthebase.Anymomentthethunderofbootsand

theglintofsteelandtherainofbullets.Cassiecocksherheadasifshe,too,canhearthemwithherunenhancedears.Butshehasbeenenhancedinanother,moreprofoundway,awayIcanonlypretendtounderstand.

“Ihavetogo,”shesays.Sheisn’tlookingatme.It’slikesheisn’tevenspeakingtome.Icanonlywatchassheyankstheknifefromthesheathstrappedtomythigh,stepsovertoVosch,flattenshishandagainstthefloor,and,withtwohardwhacks,chopsoffhisrightthumb.

Shedropsthebloodydigitintothepocketofherfatigues.“Itwouldn’tberighttoleaveyouhere,Marika.”

Sheslidesherhandsbeneathmyshouldersanddragsmetothenearestdoor.“No,forgetaboutme,Cassie.I’mdone.”“Oh,bequiet,”shemutters.Shepunchesthecodeintothekeypadandpullsmeintotheroom.“Am

Ihurtingyou?”“No.Nothinghurts.”Shepropsmeupagainstthefarwallfacingthedoorandpressesthegunintomyhand.Ishakemy

head.Hidinginthisroom,havingthegun,itonlydelaystheinevitable.Thereisanotherway,though:Icarryitinmybreastpocket.Whenthetimecomes—andthetimewillcome—you’llwishthatyouhadit.“Getoutofhere,”Itellher.Mytimehascome,butnothers.“Ifyoucanmakeitoutofthe

building,youmightbeabletoreachtheperimeter...”Sheshakesherheadimpatiently.“That’snottheway,Marika.”Hereyeslosefocusagain.“Itisn’t

far.Fiveminutesfromhere?”Shenodsasifsomeonehasansweredherquestion.“Yeah.Attheendofthehall.Aboutfiveminutes.”

“Theendofthehall?”“Area51.”Shestandsup.Steadyonherfeetnowandhermouthfirmlyset.“He’snotgoingtounderstand.He’sgoingtobepissedashell,andyou’regoingtoexplainitto

him.You’regoingtotellhimwhathappenedandwhy,andyou’regoingtotakecareofhim,understand?You’regoingtokeephimsafeandmakesurehebathesandbrusheshisteethandtrimshisnailsandwearscleanunderwearandlearnstoread.Teachhimtobepatientandtobekindandtotrusteveryone.Evenstrangers.Especiallystrangers.”

Shepauses.“Therewassomethingelse.Ohyeah.Makehimunderstanditisn’trandom.Thatthere’snowaysevenbillionbillionatomscouldaccidentallycoalesceintoapersoncalledSamuelJacksonSullivan.Whatelse?Oh!NobodyisallowedtocallhimNuggeteveragainfortherestofhislife.Imean,really.Sostupid.

“Promiseme,Marika.Promiseme.”

98THESEVENBILLIONBILLION

WEAREHUMANITY.Weareone.Wearethegirlwiththebrokenbacksprawledinanemptyroom,waitingfortheendtocome.Wearethemanwho’sfallenahalfmileaway,andtheonlythingstilllivinginusisnotalive,but

analiendevicethatdirectseveryresourceatitsdisposaltosavingourbodylyingonthecoldstone,toshockourheartbacktolife.Thereisnodifferencebetweenusandthesystem.The12thSystemisusandwearethe12thSystem.Ifoneshouldfail,theotherwilldie.

WearetheprisonersaboardtheBlackHawkhelicopterthatcirclesthebasewhileitsfuelrunslow,swingingoverabroadriver,itswatersblackandswift,andourvoicesarequelledbythewindthatroarsthroughtheopenhold,andourhandsareclasped;weareboundtooneanotherinanunbrokenchain.

Wearetherecruitshustlingtoourbattlestations,therescuedones,thewinnowedones,theharvestgatheredintobusesandseparatedintogroupsinwhichourbodieswerehardenedandoursoulsemptiedonlytobefilledwithhateandhope,andweknowaswebreakfromourbunkersthatdawnapproachesandwithitthewar,andthisiswhatwe’velongedforanddreaded,theendofwinter,theendofus.WerememberRazorandthepricehepaid;wecarvedtheinitialsVQPintoourbodiesinhishonor.Werememberthedeadbutwecan’trememberourownnames.

Wearethelostones,thesolitaryones,theoneswhodidnotboardthosebuseschuggingdownthehighways,theemptycitystreets,thelonelycountryroads.Weduginforthewinterandwatchedtheskiesandtrustednostranger.Thoseofuswhodidnotdiefromstarvationorthebittercoldorsimpleinfectionsthatantibioticswedidnothavecouldhaverelieved,weendured.Webent,butwedidnotbreak.

Wearethelonelyhuntersdesignedbyourmakerstodrivesurvivorsontothebusesthatscavengethecountrysideandtokillthosewhorefuse.Wearespecial,weareapart,weareOther.Wehavebeenawakenedintoaliesocompellingthattonotbelieveitwouldbemadness.Nowourworkisdoneandwewatchtheskies,waitingforadeliverancethatwillnevercome.

Wearethesevenbillionwhoweresacrificed,ourbodiesstrippeddowntoourbones.Wearetheonessweptaside,thediscardedones,ournamesforgotten,ourfaceslosttowindandearthandsand.Noonewillrememberus,ourfootprintserased,ourlegacieswipedout,ourchildrenandtheirchildrenandtheirchildren’schildrenatwaragainstoneanotheruntothelastgeneration,totheendoftheworld.

Wearehumanity.OurnameisCassiopeia.

Inustherage,inusthegrief,inusthefear.Inusthefaith,thehope,thelove.Wearethevesseloftenthousandsouls.Wecarrythem;weholdthem;wekeepthem.Webeartheir

burden,andthroughus,theirlivesareredeemed.Theyrestinusandweinthem.Ourheartcontainsallothers.Oneheart,onelife,ontheadventofa

mayfly’sfinalflight.

CASSIE

ALIENSARESTUPID.Tenthousandyearstopickusapart,toknowusdowntothelastelectron,andtheystilldon’tgetit.

Theystilldon’tunderstand.Dumbasses.Thepodrestsonaraisedplatformthreestairstepsoffthefloor.Egg-shaped,tortoiseshell-green,

aboutthesizeofabigSUV,likeaSuburbanoranEscalade.Thehatchisclosed,butI’vegotthekey.IpressthepadofVosch’sseveredthumbagainsttheroundsensorbesidethedoorandthehatchsoundlesslyslidesopen.Lightsflickeron,bathingtheinteriorinawashofiridescentgreen.Inside,asingleseatandanothertouchpadandthat’sit.Noinstrumentpanel.Nolittlemonitors.Nothingbutthechair,thepad,andasmallwindowthroughwhichIguessyoucanwavegood-bye.

Evanwaswrongandhewasright.Hebelievedalltheirliesbutheknewtheonlytruththatmatters.Theonetruththatmatteredbeforetheycame,whentheycame,aftertheycame.

Theyhadnoanswerforlove.Theythoughttheycouldcrushitoutofus,burnitfromourbrains,replacelovewithitsopposite

—nothate,indifference.Theythoughttheycouldturnmenintosharks.Buttheycouldn’taccountforthatonelittlething.Theyhadnoanswerforitbecauseitwasn’t

answerable.Itwasn’tevenaquestion.Theproblemofthatdamnedbear.

RINGER

AFTERCASSIELEAVES,Idropthegun.Idon’tneedit.IhaveVosch’sgiftinmypocket.Iamthechildinthewheat.Theslapofbootsonpavement,onpolishedconcretefloors,onmetalrisers,fromtheairstripto

thecommandcenter,thesoundofthousandsoffeetrunninglikethescratch-scratchoftheratsbehindthewallsoftheoldhotel.

I’msurrounded.I’llgivehertheonlythingIcan,Ithink,reachingforthegreencapsuleinmypocket.Theonly

thingI’vegotleft.

Myfingersdigintothejacketpocket.Theemptyjacketpocket.Ipatmyotherpockets.No.Notmypockets.They’reCassie’spockets:Iswitchedclotheswithher

inthesupplyshedbeforeweenteredthecommandcenter.Idon’thavethegreencapsule.Cassiedoes.Theslapofbootsonpavement,onpolishedconcretefloors,onmetalrisers.Ipushmyselffrom

thewallandcrawltowardthedoor.Heisn’tfar.Justacrossthisroom,throughthatdoor,afewfeetdownthehall.IfIcangettohim

beforetheyreachthislevel,Imaystillhaveachance—theywon’t,butIwill.Cassiewill.Door.Iyankthehandledown,swingithalfwayopen,thenquicklyslideintothespacebetweento

propitopenwithmybody.Icanseehim,thefacelessmurdererofsevenbillionwhoshouldhavekilledmewhenhehadthechance—andhehadseveral—butcouldn’t.Hecouldn’t,becauseevenhewasconfoundedbylove’sunpredictabletrajectory.Hall.Hemuststillhavethedevice.Hecarriediteverywherehewent.Lightweightandnolarger

thanacellphone,ittrackedeveryimplantedrecruitonthebase.Andwithaswipeofthethumb,itcansendasignaltotheimplantsinsidetheirnecks,killingeachoneofthem.Vosch.Lyingonmystomach,Ireachforhim,grabthebackofhisuniform,androllhimover.The

bloodycraterthatwashisfaceisturnedtothesterileglowoftheceiling.Ihearthemonthestairs,bootsonmetalrisers,growinglouder.Whereisit?Giveitup,yousonofabitch.Breastpocket.Rightwherehealwayskeptit.Thedisplayscreenswarmswithgreendots,athree-

squadcluster ’sworthheadingstraighttowardme.Ihighlightallofthem—everyrecruitonthebase,overfivethousandpeople,andthegreenbuttonbeneathmythumbflashes,andthisiswhyIdidn’twanttocomeback.Iknewwhatwouldhappen.Iknew:I’llkilluntilIlosecount.I’llkilluntilcountingdoesn’tmatter.I’mstaringatthescreenlitupwithfivethousandtinypulsinglights,eachahaplessvictim,eacha

humanbeing.TellingmyselfIdon’thaveachoice.TellingmyselfI’mnothiscreation.I’mnotwhathehasmademe.

ZOMBIE

ONOURSEVENTEENTHPASSaroundtheperimeter—ormaybetheeighteenth;I’velostcount—thelightsoftheairbaseabruptlyblazebackon,andacrossfromme,SergeantSprinterbarksintoherheadset,“Status?”

We’vebeencirclingforoveranhourandourfuelmustbelow.We’llhavetosetdownsoon;theonlyquestioniswhere,insidethebaseorout.Rightnowwe’reapproachingtheriveragain.Iexpectthepilottochangecourse,bringusoversomeland,butshedoesn’t.

Meganisnestledundermyarm,herheadtuckedbeneathmychin.Nuggetpressesagainsttheotherarm,watchingthebasebelow.Hissisterisdowntheresomewhere.Possiblyalive,probablydead.Therestorationofthelightsisabadsign.

Webankovertheriver,keepingthebaseonourleft,andIcanseeotherchopperscirclingoverit,too,waitingfortheallcleartoland.Theirspotlightscutthroughthepredawnmist,pillarsofglisteningwhite.We’reovertherivernow,swollenfromanearlyspringthaw.

Aboveus,theskylightenstograyandthestarsbegintofade.Thisisit.GreenDay.Thedaythebombsfall.Ilookforthemothershipbutcan’tspotitinthe

brighteningsky.Conversationwiththegroundover,thesergeantpullsoffherheadset.Hereyesonmyface,her

handrestingonthebuttofhersidearm.Nuggetstiffensbesideme;heknowswhat’scomingbeforeIdo;hishandsclawathisharness,thoughthere’snowheretorunandnowheretohide.

Theordershavechanged.Shedrawsherweaponandlevelsitathishead.Ithrowmyselfinfrontofhim.Finallythecirclecomesround.Timetopaythedebt.

CASSIE

THROUGHTHEOPENDOORbehindme,soldiersfloodintotheroom.Theyquicklyspreadoutshouldertoshoulderfromwalltowall,intworows,theclosestonekneeling,twodozenriflesaimedatasinglecurly-headed,crooked-nosedtarget.Iturnandfacethem.Theydon’tknowme,butIknowthem.Irecognizeeachandeveryfaceoftheoneswhohavecometokillme.

Iknowwhattheyrememberandwhattheycan’t.Iholdtheminsideme.It’slikeI’mabouttobemurderedbyahumanmosaicofmyself.Makesyouwonder:Isthismurder?Orsuicide?

Iclosemyeyes.I’msorry,Sams.Itried.Heiswithmenow,mybrother;Ifeelhim.Andthat’sgood.AtleastwhenIdie,Iwillnotbealone.

RINGER

THESTAIRWAYDOORslamsopenandtheypoundintothehall,weaponsdrawn.Fingerstightenontriggers.

Toolateforthem.Toolateforme.Ipressthebutton.

ZOMBIE

ACROSSTHEAISLE,thesergeantjerksinherseat;herbeautifuldarkeyesrollback;herskullpopsagainstthebulkhead;andthensheslumpsagainstherharness.Meganboltsuprightwithastartledcry.

Everyrecruitintheholdhasfollowedthesergeant’slead.Includingthepilot.Thechopper ’snosedips,whippinghardtotherightandslammingmeintoNugget,who’snot

wastinganytimeunbucklinghimself.ThedamnkidgetseverythingbeforeIdo.Iplayafast,desperategameofslappieswithMegan,strugglingtofreeherfirst.Nugget’shurledfromhisseat—Icatchholdofhissleeveandyankhimintomychest.ThenMegan’sloosebutI’mnot,holdingontoherwithonehandandNuggetwiththeother.

“Theriver!”Iscreamathim.Henods.He’sthecoolestoneamongus.Hislittlefingersflyoverthebucklestosetmefree.Thechopperbarrelstowardthewater.“Hangontome!”Ishout.“Don’tletgo!”We’refallingsideways.Theriverisafeaturelessblackwallrushingtowardtheopenhatchon

Nugget’sside.“ONE!”Nuggetcloseshiseyes.“TWO!”Meganscreams.“THREE!”Iswiveloutoftheseat,akidundereacharm,anddropfeetfirsttowardtheopening.

CASSIE

THESOLDIERSFALLtotheground.Onesecondthey’reup,thenextthey’redown.Somebody’sfriedtheirbrains.I’mnotsurehow,butI’mprettysurewho.

Iturnaway.I’veseenenoughbodiestolastmytenthousandlifetimes,frommymotherdrowninginherownbloodtomyfatherwrithinggut-shotinthedirt,fromtheonesbeforeandtheonesafterandtheonesinbetween,mydeadandtheirdead,ourdead.

Yeah,I’veseenenough.Plus,thosekidswhojustfell,they’remybodies,too,inaway.It’slikelookingdownatyourown

corpse.Timestwelve.Istepinsidethepod.Ilowermyselfintothechair.Ibucklemyselfin,pullingtightthestrapsthat

crossmychest.Inmyhandadeadman’sthumb.Inmypocketagreencapsuleencasedinplastic.Inmyheadtenthousandvoicesthatstrangelysingasone.Andinmyheart,astillness,aquietplaceuntouchedbyanything,beyondspace,unboundedbytime.Cassie,doyouwanttofly?ThegreenpillfelloutwhenIrippedmyselffromtheWonderlandchair,andIpickeditupwithout

thinkingaboutit,withoutevenlookingatit.ThenIsawRingerlyinginthathallwayandIrememberedwe’dswappedjackets.She’dbeencarryingaroundthebombthewholetimeanddidn’ttellanyone.IthinkIknowwhy.Iknowheraswellassheknowsherself.Better,even,becauseIcanrememberwhatshe’sforgotten.

IpressVosch’sseveredthumbagainstthelaunchbutton.Thehatchdoorcloses,thelockingmechanismhums.Theventilationsystemkickson;coolairbrushesagainstmycheek.

Thepodshivers.Ifeellikeraisingmyhands.

Yes,Daddy,Iwanttofly.

ZOMBIE

ILOSETHEKIDSwhenwehitthewater.Theforceofourlandingsnatchesthemaway.Thechoppertumblesintotheriverseveralhundredyardsupstreamandthefireballpaintsthesurfaceaduskyorange.IseeMeganfirst,herfacebreakingthesurfaceenoughtoallowheragurglingscream.Igrabherwristandyankhertowardme.

“Captain!”sheyells.Huh?“IlostCaptain!”Shekicksagainstmylegs,reachingwithherfreehandtowardtheteddybearthatspinslazilyaway

fromus.OhChrist.Thatdamnedbear.Ilookovermyshoulder.Nugget,whereareyou?ThenIseehimattheshoreline,halfin,halfout,

backarchingashecoughsupagallonofriverwater.Thekidistrulyindestructible.“Okay,Megan.Climbaboard;I’llgethim.”Shehitchesherselfontomyback,wrappingherthinarmsaroundmyneckandhersticklegs

aroundmytorso.Ikickovertothebear.Gotcha.Thenthelongswimtoshore,whichisn’tthatfar,butthewater ’sfreezingandMeganonmybackbearsmedown.Bearsmedown.That’sagoodone.

WecollapseontheshorebesideNugget.Nobodyspeaksforafewminutes.ThenNuggetgoes,“Zombie?”

“Somebodyhitthekillswitch.Onlythingthatmakessense,Private.”“Corporal,”hecorrectsme.Thenhesays,“Ringer?”Inod.“Ringer.”Heprocessesforasecond.Then,hisvoiceshakingbecausehe’safraidtoask:“Cassie?”

CASSIE

THEHANDOFGODslamsdownasthepodexplodesupthelaunchshaft,amassivefistflattensmybodyintothechair,andthenthefistclosesaroundme,squeezing.Somewiseasshasdroppedatwo-tonrockonmychestandI’mfindingitverydifficulttobreathe.Also,somebodywithnoregardwhatsoeverformycomfortandsafetyhasturnedoffallthelights—Ican’tevenseetheeeriegreenglowthatseemedtocomefromeverywhereandnowhere.Eitherthatormyeyeshavebeenshovedtothebackofmyskull.

ZOMBIE

NO,NUGGET.Sheprobablydidn’tmakeit.BeforeIcansaythewords,Meganslapsmychestandpointstowardthebase.Ashiningballofgreenlightshootsoverthetreetopsintotherose-coloredsky.Theafterimagelingersinoureyeslongafterit’slostintheatmosphere.

“It’sashootingstar!”shesays.Ishakemyhead.“Wrongdirection.”Iguess,intheend,Iwaswrong.

CASSIE

THEFEELINGOFbeingslowlycrushedtodeathintotaldarknesslastsforseveralminutes.Inotherwords,forever.Okay,foreverisoneword.

Awordwethrowaroundlikewecanevengraspit,likeforeverissomethingthehumanmindcancomprehend.

Thestrapsacrossmychestloosen.Thetwo-tonboulderdissolves.Itakeahuge,shudderingbreathandopenmyeyes.Thepodisdark—goneisthegreenlightandgoodriddance;IalwayshatedOther-green,notmyshadeatall.Ilookoutthewindowandgasp.Hello,Earth.SothisishowGodseesyou,sparklingblueagainstthedullestblack.Nowonderhemadeyou.No

wonderhemadethesunandthestarssohecouldseeyou.Beautifulisanotherwordwetossedaroundtoocasually,sloppingitovereverythingfromcarsto

nailpolishuntilthewordcollapsedundertheweightofallthebanality.Buttheworldisbeautiful.Ihopetheyneverforgetthat.Theworldisbeautiful.

Awaterdropletbobsbeforemyeyes.Floatingfree,theoddesttearI’veeverbrushedaway.Neverforget,Sams.Loveisforever.Ifitwasn’t,itwouldn’tbelove.Theworldisbeautiful.Ifit

wasn’t,itwouldn’tbetheworld.Thewildestthingaboutholdingmybrother ’smemoriesinsideme?Seeingmyselfthroughhis

eyes,hearingmyselfwithhisears,sailingtheCassiopeianseainthreedimensions,thewayweexperiencepracticallyeverythingexcepttheonethingwe’resupposedtounderstandthebest:ourselves.ToSam,thereisthebundleofcolorsandsmellsandsensationsthatmakeupCassie,andthatCassieisnotBen’sCassieorMarika’sCassieorEvan’sCassieorevenCassie’sCassie;shebelongstoSamandtoSamalone.

Thepodrolls,theshiningbluegemslipsfromsight,andforthelasttimeinmylifeIamafraid,asifI’vefallenofftheedgeoftheworld—whichIguessinasenseIhave.Instinctively,IreachforthevanishedEarth;myfingertipsbumpagainstthewindow.Good-bye.Oh,Iamtoofaraway.Andtooclose.ThereIam,hearingatinyvoicescratchinginthe

wilderness,Alone,alone,alone,Cassie,you’realone.AndthereIamlookingthroughEvan’seyesatthegirlwiththeindispensableteddybearandtheuselessM16,huddledinhersleepingbagdeepinthewoods,thinkingshe’sthelastpersononEarth.Iwatchhernightafternightandgothroughherthingswhileshe’sawayforaging.WhatabastardIam,touchingherstuffandreadingherjournals,whycan’tIjustkillheralready?That’smyname.CassieforCassiopeia.Aloneasthestarsandlonelyasthestars.

NowIdiscovermyselfinhimandIamnotthepersonIexpectedtofind.HisCassiesearsthedarknesswiththebrightnessofabillionsuns.He’sasbaffledbythisasIam,ashumanityis,astheOthersare.Hecan’tsaywhy.There’snoreason,noneatexplanation.It’simpossibletounderstandandimpossiblyirrelevant,likeaskingwhyanythingexistsinthefirstplace.

Hehadtheanswer,allright.Itjustwasn’ttheanswerIwaslookingfor.I’msorry,Evan;Iwaswrong.Itwasn’ttheideaofmethatyouloved,Iknowthatnow.Thestars

outsidethewindowfade,overtakenbythatnauseatinggreenglow,andafteraminutethehullofthemothershipslidesintoview.

Oh,youbitch.Forayear,I’vehatedyourgreenguts.I’vewatchedyou,filledwithhateandfear,andnowhereweare,justthetwoofus,Otherandhumanity.

That’smyname.NotCassieforCassandra.OrCassieforCassidy.Andit’snotCassieforCassiopeia.Notanymore.Iammorethanhernow.

Iamallofthem,EvanandBenandMarikaandMeganandSam.IamDumboandPoundcakeandTeacup.Iamalltheonesyouemptied,theonesyoucorrupted,theonesyoudiscarded,thethousandsyouthoughtyouhadkilled,butwholiveoninme.

ButIamevenmorethanthis.Iamallthosetheyremember,theonestheyloved,everyonetheyknew,andeveryonetheyonlyheardabout.Howmanyarecontainedinme?Countthestars.Goon,numberthegrainsofsand.That’sme.Iamhumanity.

ZOMBIE

WEMOVETOthecoverofthetrees.IfwhatIsuspecthasactuallyhappened—thatsomeoneinsidethebasehaszappedeveryoneelse—there’snotmuchriskinbringingthemwithme,butthere’ssomerisk,andsomebodywhoshouldknowoncetoldmeit’sallabouttherisk.

Nuggetisfurious.Meganseemsrelieved.“Who’sgonnawatchherifyoucomewithme?”Iaskhim.“Idon’tcare!”“Well,oneofusdoes.Andthatpersonhappenstobeincharge.”Throughthewoodsandintotheno-man’s-landboundarythatrunstheperimeterofthebase,

towardtheclosestentranceandthewatchtowerbesideit.Ihavenoweapon,nomeanstodefendmyself.Aneasytarget.Nochoice,though.Ikeepwalking.

I’msoakedtomybones,andthetemperaturehoversinthemidforties,butIamnotcold.Ifeelgreat;evenmylegdoesn’thurtanymore.

CASSIOPEIA

THEGLISTENINGGREENSKINoftheshipfillsthewindow,blottingoutthestars.It’sallIcanseenow,andthelightfromthesunsparksoffitsfeaturelesssurface.Howbigdidtheysayitwas?Twenty-five

milesfromtiptotip,roughlythesizeofManhattan.I’mseeingonlyatinysliceofanenormouswhole.Myheartpounds.Mybreathshortens,explodingfrommymouthinroilingplumesofwhite.It’sfreezinginhere.Idon’tremembereverfeelingsocold.

Withshakingfingers,Ireachintomypocketandfishoutthecapsule.Itslipsfrommygraspandspinslikealurethroughwatertowardthetopofthepod.Icatchitafteracoupleoftries,closingmyfisttightlyaroundit.

Damn,I’mcold.Myteetharechattering.Ican’tkeepmythoughtsstill.Whatelse?Isthereanythingelse?WhathaveIleftundone?Thereisn’tmuch—Iammorethanthesumofmyownexperiencenow.I’vegottenthousandtimesmyfairshare.

Becausehere’sthething:Seeingyourselfthroughanother ’seyesshiftsyourcenterofgravity.Itdoesn’tchangethewayyoulookatyourself.Itchangesthewayyoulookattheworld.Nottheyou.Theeverything-but-you.Idon’thateyouanymore,Itellthemothership.AndI’mnotafraidofyouanymore.Idon’thate

anything.I’mnotafraidofanything.Atthecenter,rightinthemiddleofmyview,ablackholegrows,remindingmeofamouthslowly

opening.I’mheadedrightforit.Islipthecapsulebetweenmylips.No,theanswerisnothate.Theblackholeexpands.I’mfallingintoalightlesspit,avoid,theuniversebeforetheuniverse

wastheuniverse.Andtheanswerisnotfear.Somewhereinthemothership’sbelly,thousandsofbombstwentytimesthesizeoftheoneinmy

moutharerollingdownchutesintolaunchingbays.Ihopethey’restillinthere.Ihopetheyhaven’tstartedtofall.IhopeI’mintime.

Thepodcrossesthethresholdintothemothershipandjerkstoastop.Thewindow’sfrostedover,butthere’slightoutside;itglimmersintheice.Thehatchbehindmehisses.Imustwaituntilitopens.ThenImustrisefromthischair.ThenImustturnandfacewhatwaitsformeoutthere.We’rehere,andthenwe’regone,hesaidtome,andit’snotaboutthetimewe’rehere.There’snounravelingus,noplacewhereIendandhebegins.There’snounravelinganyofit.Iamentwinedwitheverything,frommayfliestothefartheststar.I

havenoboundaries,Iamlimitless,andIopentocreationlikeaflowertotherain.I’mnotcoldanymore.Thearmsofthesevenbillionenfoldme.Irise.NowIlaymedowntosleep...Idrawindeepmyfinalbreath.WheninthemorninglightIwake...Ibitedownhard.Thesealbreaks.Teachmethepathoflovetotake.Istepintotheoutthere,andbreathe.

ZOMBIE

I’VEREACHEDTHEGRAVELPATHthatbordersthesecurityfencewhenthesunbreaksthehorizon—no,notthesun,itcan’tbe,unlessthesun’sdecidedtoriseinthenorthandhasswappeditsgoldforgreen.Iwhiptomyrightandseethestarswinkingoutonebyone,obliteratedbyamassiveburstoflightontheedgeofthenorthernhorizon,anexplosionintheupperatmospherethatwashesoverthelandscapeinafloodofblindinggreen.

Myfirstthoughtisforthekids.Idon’tknowwhatthehellishappeningandIhaven’tconnectedtheprojectilehurtlingfromthebasetotheenormousnorthernflare.Itdoesn’toccurtomethatforthefirsttimeinaverylongtime,somethingmighthaveactuallygoneourway.Honestly,whenIsawthelight,IthoughtthebombardmenthadbegunandIwaswitnessingthefirstsalvointhedestructionofeverycityonEarth.Theideathatthemothershipcouldactuallybegonedidn’tevencrossmyradar.Howcoulditbegone?Thatship’sunassailableasthemoon.

Ihesitate,tryingtodecidewhethertokeepgoingorturnback.Butthegreenlightfades,theskyglowsrosyagain,andnoterrifiedchildrenburstfromthewoodsseekingrescue.Idecidetomaintainmyheading.I’vegotfaithinNugget.He’llknowtostayputtillIreturn.

TenminutesinsidethebaseandIfindthefirstofmanybodies.Theplaceisatomb.Iwalkthroughfieldsofthedead.Theylieinpiles,groupsofsixtoten,theirbodiescontortedintoportraitsofsilentagony.Istoptoexamineeverygruesomestack,lookingfortwofamiliarfaces;I’mnotgoingtorush,thoughavoicescreamsinmyheadwitheachpassingminutetohurry,hurry.AndinthebackofmymindI’mrememberingwhathappenedatCampHaven—howVoschwaswillingtosacrificethevillageinordertosaveit.

ThismightnotbeRinger ’sdoing—itmaybetheresultofVoschexercisingthefinaloption.Ittakesmehourstoreachthelastlevel,thebottomofthisdeathpit.ShebarelyliftsherheadwhenIopenthestairwelldoor.Imayhaveshoutedhername;Idon’t

remember.Ialsodon’tremembersteppingoverVosch’sbody,butImusthave:Itwasinmyway.Myboothits

thekillswitchlyingbesideher.Itskittersacrossthefloor.“Walker...,”shegasps,pointingovermyshoulderdownthelonghallway.“Ithinkhe’s—”Ishakemyhead.She’shurtandstillimaginesI’dworryabouthimforevenonesecond?Itouch

hershoulder.Herdarkhairbrushesthebackofmyhand.Hereyesshine.Theirbrightnessgoesallthewaydown.

“Youfoundme,”shesays.Ikneelbesideher.Itakeherhand.“Ifoundyou.”“Mybackisbroken,”shesays.“Ican’twalk.”Islidemyarmsbeneathher.“I’llcarryyou.”

BEN

THELATE-AFTERNOONSUNpolishesthedustywindowsofthesuperstorealustrousgold.Inside,thelighthasfadedtogray.We’vegotlessthananhourtobeatthedarkbacktothehouse.Thedaymaybelongtous,butthenightbelongstothecoyotesandthepacksofwilddogsthatroamthebanksoftheColoradoandwandertheoutskirtsofMarbleFalls.I’mwell-armed,I’vegotnoloveforcoyotes,butIhateshootingthedogs.Theolderonesweresomebody’spetonce;itfeelslikegivingupallhopeofredemption.

Anditisn’tjustdogsandcoyotes.AcoupleofweeksafterwecrossedtheborderintoTexas,backinlatesummer,Marikaspottedescapeesfromsomezoodrinkingafewmilesupriver—alionessandhertwocubs.Eversincethen,Samhasbeenitchingforasafari.HewantstocaptureandtameanelephantsohecanrideonitlikeAladdin.Orcatchamonkeytodomesticate.Heisn’tpicky.

“Hey,Sam,”Icalldowntheaisle.He’swanderedoffagaininsearchoftreasure.Latelyit’sbeenLEGOs.BeforethatitwasLincolnLogs.He’sdevelopedaloveforbuildingthings.He’smadeafort,atreehouse,andstartedonanundergroundbunkerinthebackyard.

“What?”heshoutsbackfromthetoysection.“It’sgettinglate.Wehavetomakeadecisionhere.”“ItoldyouIdon’tcare!Youdecide!”Somethingcrashesoffashelfandhecursesloudly.“Hey,what’dItellyouaboutthat?”Icallovertohim.“Watchyourlanguage.”“Fucketyfuckfuck,shithole.”Isigh.“Comeon,Sam,wegottahaulthisthingbackthreefriggin’miles,whichI’drathernotdo

inthedark.”“I’mbusy.”Iturnbacktothedisplay.Well,theprelitsareuseless.Thatleaveseitherthesix,eight,ortenfoot.

Thetensaretootallfortheceiling.Eitherthesixoreight,then.Asixwouldbeeasiertotransport,butitlookslikecrap.TheTexasheathasdoneanumberonit.Needlesbentandsoft,bigbarespotsinsomeplaceswheretheyfelloff.Theeightsdon’tlookmuchbetter,butthey’renotquiteasscrawny.Buteightdamnfeet!Maybetheirstoreroomhasnewonesinboxes.

I’mstilldebatingwithmyselfwhenIhearanall-too-familiar,all-too-sickeningsound:abulletrackingintothechamberofapistol.

“Don’tmove!”Samshouts.“Lemmeseeyourhands!Hands!”Idrawmyownweaponandracedowntheaisleasfastasmybumlegwillallow,slippingonthe

carpetofratdroppingsandhoppingoverfallenshelvingandripped-openboxes,untilIreachthetoysectionandthekidwho’sgotadownedmanatgunpoint.

Myage.Wearingfatigues.A5thWaveeyepiecehangsaroundhisscrawnyneck.He’sleaningagainstthebackwallbeneaththeboardgames,onearmpressingagainsthisgut,theotherontopofhishead.Myheartslowsalittle.Ididn’tthinkitwasaSilencer—MarikakilledtheoneassignedtoMarbleFallsmonthsago—butyoucanneverbesure.

“Otherarm!”Samshoutsathim.“I’munarmed...,”theguygaspsinadeepTexasdrawl.Samsaystome,“Searchhim,Zombie.”

“Where’syoursquad?”Iask.Ihaveavisionofbeingambushed.“Nosquad.Justme.”“You’rehurt,”Isay.Icanseetheblood,mostlydriedbutsomefresh,onhisshirtfront.“What

happened?”Heshakeshisheadandcoughs.Arattleinhischest.Pneumonia,maybe.“Sniper,”hemanages

aftercatchinghisbreath.“Where?HereinMarbleFallsor...?”Thearmpressingagainsthisgutmoves.IfeelSamtensebesidemeandIreachoutandputmy

handoverthebarrelofhisBeretta.“Wait,”Imurmur.“I’mnottellingyouanything,youinfestedpieceofshit.”“Okay.ThenI’lltellyou:Wearen’tinfested.Nobodyis.”I’mwastingmybreath.Imightaswell

tellhimthathe’sactuallyageraniumhavingaveryweirddream.“Hangonasecond.”ItugSamtotheoppositeendoftheaisleandwhisper,“Thisisaproblem.”Heshakeshisheadvehemently.“No,itisn’t.Wehavetokillhim.”“Nobody’skillinganybody,Sam.That’sdone.”“Wecan’tleavehimhere,Zombie.Whatifhe’slyingabouthissquad?Whatifhe’sfakingbeing

hurt?Wehavetokillhimbeforehekillsus.”Hisfaceturneduptome,hiseyesshininginthedyinglight,shiningwithhateandfear.Killhim

beforehekillsus.Sometimes,notoften,butsometimes,IwonderwhatCassiediedfor.Thetiger ’sloosedfromitscageandthere’snocapturingit.Howdowerebuildwhat’sbeenlost?Inanabandonedconveniencestore,aterrifiedgirlmowsdownaninnocentmanbecausehertrusthasbeenshattered.There’snootherwaytobesure,nootheroptiontobesafe.You’resafehere.Perfectlysafe.Thatphrasestillhauntsme.Hauntsmebecauseit’salwaysbeena

lie.Itwasaliebeforetheycameandit’sstillalie.You’reneverperfectlysafe.NohumanbeingonEartheverisoreverwas.Toliveistoriskyourlife,yourheart,everything.Otherwise,you’rejustawalkingcorpse.You’reazombie.

“He’snodifferentfromus,Sam,”Itellhim.“Noneofthiswillenduntilsomebodydecidestoputdowntheguns.”

Idon’treachfortheweapon,though.Itshouldbehisdecision.“Zombie...”“WhatdidItellyouaboutthat?MynameisBen.”Samlowersthegun.Inthesamemoment,attheotherendoftheaisle,anothersilentbattleislost.Thesoldierlied;he

wasarmed,andheusedthetimehehadlefttoputtheguntohisheadandpullthetrigger.

MARIKA

FIRSTITOLDHIMitwasadumbidea.Then,whenheinsisted,Itoldhimtowaittilltomorrow.Itwaslateafternoonandthestorewasoverthreemilesaway.Theydidn’thavetimetogetbackbeforedark.Hewentanyway.

“Tomorrow’sChristmas,”Benremindedme.“WemissedlastChristmasandthat’sthelastChristmasI’mgoingtomiss.”

“What’sthebigdealaboutChristmas?”Iaskedhim.“Everything.”Andhesmiled,likethathadanypoweroverme.“Don’ttakeSam.”“Sam’sthereasonI’mgoing.”HelookedovermyshoulderatMeganplayingbythefireplace.

“Andher.”Thenheadded,“AndCassie.Mostofall.”Hepromisedthey’dbebacksoon.Iwatchedthemfromtheporchthatoverlookedtheriverasthey

headedforthebridge,Sampullingtheemptywagon,Benfavoringhisbadleg,andthesuncastdowntheirshadows,onelongandoneshort,likethehandsofaclock.

Thecryingcamewiththedark.Italwaysdid.Isatintherocker,holdingherinmylap.Shehadjustfed,soIknewshewasn’thungry.Icuppedhercheekandgentlycurledintoher,discerningherneed.Ben.ShewantedBen.“Don’tworry,”Itoldher.“He’scomingback.Hepromised.”

Whydidhehavetogoallthewaytothatstore?TherehadtobedozensofhousesonthissideoftheriverwithChristmastreesintheirattics.Butno,hewanteda“new”treeandithadtobeartificial.Nothingthatwilldie,heinsisted.

Idrewtheblankettighteraroundher.Thenightwascloudyandthewindwascoldofftheriver.Thelightfromthefireplaceflowedthroughthewindowsbehindmeandlaygleamingontheboards.

EvanWalkersteppedontotheporchandleanedhisrifleagainsttherailing.Hiseyesfollowedmineintothedark,acrosstheriver,scanningthebridgeandthebuildingsontheotherside.

“Stillnotback?”heasked.“No.”Heglancedatmeandsmiled.“They’llcome.”Hesawthemfirst,approachingthebridge,pullingthelittleredwagonwithitsgreencargobehind

them.Hesmiled.“Looksliketheyhitpaydirt.”Heshoulderedtheweaponandwentbackinside.Thewindshifted.Icouldsmellgunpowder.Damn

it,Ben.Whenhecameupthewalk,grinningfromeartoearlikeatriumphanthunterdraggingthekillbacktothecave,Ihadanurgetoslaphimupsidethehead.StupidriskforadamnplasticChristmastree.

Istoodup.Hesawthelookonmyfaceandstopped.Samhoveredbehindhimasifheweretryingtohide.

“What?”Benasked.“Whofiredtheirsidearmandwhy?”“Didyouhearitordidyousmellit?”Hesighed.“SometimesIreallyhatethe12thSystem.”“Straightanswer,Parish.”“IloveitwhenyoucallmeParish.DidIevertellyouthat?Sosexy.”Hekissesme,thensays,“It

wasn’tus,andtherestisalongstory.Let’sgoinside.It’sfreezingouthere.”“It’snotfreezing.”“Well,it’scold.Comeon,Sullivan,let’sgetthispartystarted!”Ifollowedthemintothehouse.Meganjumpedupfromherdollsandsquealedwithdelight.That

plastictreetouchedsomethingdeep.Walkercameoutofthekitchentohelpsetitup.Istoodbythedoor,bouncingthebabyonmyhipasshebawled.Benfinallynoticedandabandonedthetreetotakeherfrommyarms.

“What’sup,littlemayfly,huh?What’sthematter?”Shepoppedhertinyfistagainstthesideofhisnose,andBenlaughed.Healwayslaughedwhenshe

swattedhimordidanythingthatshouldn’tbeencouraged,likedemandingtobeheldeverywakingsecond.Fromthemomentshewasborn,shehadhimwrappedaroundherinch-longfinger.

Ontheothersideoftheroom,EvanWalkerflinched.Mayfly.Awordthatresonated,awordthatwouldneverbejustaword.SometimesIwonderedifweshouldhavelefthiminCanada,ifreturninghismemorieswasn’taparticularcruelty,akindofpsychologicaltorture.Thealternativeswereunthinkable,though:Killhim,oremptyhimcompletely,leavinghimahumanshellwithnomemoryofheratall.Bothofthosepossibilitieswerepainless;weoptedforthepain.

Painisnecessary.Painislife.Withoutpain,therecanbenojoy.CassieSullivantaughtmethat.Thecryingwenton.EvenBenwithallhisspecialParishpowerscouldn’tcalmherdown.“What’swrong?”heaskedme,asifIknew.Itookastabatitanyway.“Youleft.Brokeherroutine.Shehatesthat.”Somuchlikehernamesake:crying,punching,demanding,needing.Maybethereissomethingto

theideaofreincarnation.Restless,neversatisfied,quicktoanger,stubborn,andruthlesslycurious.Cassiecalledit.Shelabeledherselflongago.Iamhumanity.

Samscampereddownthehalltohisbedroom.Iguessedhecouldn’ttakethewailinganymore.Iwaswrong.Hereturnedwithsomethingbehindhisback.

“Iwasgoingtowaittilltomorrow,but...”Heshrugged.Thatbearhadseenbetterdays.Missinganear,furthathadgonefrombrowntoasplotchygray,

patchedandrepatchedandpatchedagain,moresuturesthanFrankenstein’smonster.Messedup,beatenup,butstillhangingaround.Stillhere.

BentookthebearfromhimandmadeitdanceforCassie.Stubbybeararmsflapped.Unevenbearlegs—onewasshorterthantheother—twistedandtwirled.Thebabycriedforacouplemoreminutes,clingingtotherageanddiscomfortuntiltheyslippedthroughherfingers,asinsubstantialasthewind.Shereachedforthetoy.Gimme,gimme,Iwanna,Iwanna.

“Well,whatdoyouknow?”Bensaid.Helookedoveratme,andhissmilewassogenuine—nocalculation,novanity,desiringnothingbutexpressingeverything—thatIcouldn’thelpmyselfandreallydidn’twantto.

Ismiled.

EVANWALKER

EACHNIGHTfromdusktodawnhekeptwatchfromtheporchthatoverlookedtheriver.Onthehalfhour,helefttheporchtopatroltheblock.Thenbacktotheporchtowatchwhiletheothersslept.Hissleepwasrare,usuallyanhourortwointheafternoons,andafterwardalwaysjerkingawake,disoriented,panicky,likeadrowningmanbreakingthesurfaceofthewaterthatwouldbearhimdown,theremorselessmediumthatwouldkillhim.

Ifhehaddreams,hecouldnotrememberthem.Aloneinthedarkness,awakewhileeveryoneelseslept,hefeltthemostatpeace.Hesupposedit

wasinhisnature,passeddownfromhisfatherandhisfather ’sfather,farmerswhotendedthelandandcaredfortheirlivestock.Nurturers,guardians,watchmenfortheharvest.ThatwastobeEvanWalker ’sinheritance.Instead,hebecametheopposite.Thesilenthunterinthewoods.Thedeadlyassassinstalkinghumanprey.Howmanydidhekillbeforehefoundherhidinginthewoodsthatautumnafternoon?Hecouldn’tremember.Hefeltnoabsolutioninknowinghe’dbeenused,noredemptioninunderstandinghewasasmuchavictimasthepeoplehekilled—fromadistance,

alwaysfromadistance.Forgivenessisnotbornoutofinnocenceorignorance.Forgivenessisbornoflove.

Atdawn,helefttheporchandwentinsidetohisroom.Thetimehadcome.He’dlingeredheretoolongalready.Hewasstuffinganextrajacketintotheduffelbag—thebowlingjackethe’dtakenfromGrace’shousethatCassiehadhatedsomuch—whenBenappearedinthedoorway,shirtless,bleary-eyed,scruffy-chinned.

“You’releaving,”hesaid.“I’mleaving.”“Marikasaidyouwould.Ididn’tbelieveher.”“Whynot?”Benshrugged.“Sheisn’talwaysright.Onehalfofonepercentofthetime,she’sonlyhalfright.”

Herubbedhiseyesandyawned.“Andyou’renotcomingback,”Benwenton.“Ever.Issherightaboutthat,too?”

Evannodded.“Yes.”“Well.”Benlookedaway,scratchinghisshoulderslowly.“Whereareyougoing?”“Tolookforlightsinthedark.”“Lights,”Benechoed.“Like,literallights,or...?”“Imeanbases.Militarycompounds.Theclosestoneisaboutahundredmilesaway.I’llstartthere.”“Anddowhat?”“WhatI’vebeengiftedtodo.”“You’regoingtoblowupeverymilitarybaseinNorthAmerica?”“SouthAmerica,too,ifIlivethatlong.”“That’sambitious.”“Idon’tthinkI’llbeworkingalone.”Bentookamomenttothink.“TheSilencers.”“Whereelsewouldtheygo?Theyknowwheretheirenemiesare.Theyknoweachbasehasan

arsenalofalienordnancelikeCampHaven’s.Theybelievethere’snochoicenowthatthemothership’sgonebuttoblowupthe5thWavebases.Well,Ibelievethat’swhattheybelieve.It’swhatIwouldbelieveifIstillbelieved.We’llsee.”

Heshoulderedtheduffelbagandwalkedtothedoor.Benblockedtheway.Hisfacewasflushedwithanger.

“You’retalkingaboutmurderingthousandsofinnocentpeople.”“WhatdoyousuggestIdo,Ben?”“Stayhere.Helpus.We—”Hetookadeepbreath.Thiswashardforhimtosay.“Weneedyou.”“Forwhat?Youcantakethenightwatchandtendthegardenandpickupmyslackonthehunts.”“Goddamnit,Walker,what’sthisabout,huh?”Benexplodedinfury.“What’sthisreallyabout?Isit

aboutendingawarortakingrevenge?Youcanblowuphalftheworldanditwon’tmakeitright,itwon’tbringherback.”

Evanremainedcalm.He’dheardallthearguments,manytimes.He’dfoughtthesebattlesformonths,alone,inthequiettumultofhisheart.“TwowillbesavedforeachoneIkill.That’sthemath.What’sthealternative?Stayhereuntilstayinghereistoodangerous,thenmovetoanotherplace,thenanother,andanother,hiding,running,usingthegiftstheygavemetokeepmyselfalive—forwhat?Cassiedidn’tdiesoIcouldlive.Shediedforsomethingmuchbiggerthanthat.”

Benwasshakinghishead.“Right,sohowaboutIkillyounowandsavetensofthousandsoflives?How’sthatmathworkforyou?”

“Youhaveapoint.”Evansmiled.“Theproblemisyou’renokiller,Ben.Youneverwere.”

SAM

EVANWALKERonthebridgecrossingtheriver.EvanWalkerwithabagoveroneshoulderandarifleovertheother,shrinking.

“Whereishegoing?”Meganasked.Samshookhishead;hedidn’tknow.Theywatcheduntiltheycouldn’tseehimanymore.“Let’splaysomething,”Megansaid.“Ihavetofinishmybunker.”“Youdigmorethanamole.”“Youareamole.”“YougaveCaptainaway.”Samsighed.Thisagain.“Hisnameisn’tCaptain.Andhewasn’tyours.Hewasmine.”“Youdidn’tevenask.”Thenshesaid,“Idon’tcare.Cassiecankeephim.Hesmelled.”“Yousmell.”Heleftthefrontwindowandwentintothekitchen.Hewashungry.Hegrabbedhisfavoritebookto

readwhileheate.WheretheSidewalkEnds.EvanWalkertoldhimitwasCassie’sfavoritebookofalltime.

Ifyouareadreamer,comein...

EvanWalkerwasgone.Forever,Zombiesaid.Samdidn’twanttothinkaboutthat.Hedidn’twanttothinkaboutCassiebeinggoneorDumboorPoundcakeoranyonefromhisoldsquadorhisfatherorhismotheroranyoneheknewbeforehecameheretothegreatbighousebytheriver.Hewasprettygoodatnotthinkingaboutthemmostofthetime.SometimesCassiewouldcomeintohisdreams,andshewouldfussathimabouteverything.Hewasn’tcleanenough.Hewasn’tniceenough.Hecouldn’trememberthingsthatshethoughtwereimportant.Inhisdreams,hernosewasstraightandherhairlongerandherclothescleaner.Inhisdreams,shewasthebefore-Cassie.Areyoubeinggood,Sam?Areyousayingyourprayerseverynight?OnenighthewokeupZombie—inhishead,SamstillcalledhimZombie—andZombietookhim

intothebathroomandwashedthetearsfromhisfaceandtoldhimthathemissedher,too,andthenhewalkedSamoutsideandhepointedatthesky.Seethosestarsupthere,theonesthatkindoflooklikeasidewaysW?Youknowwhatthatis?

TheysatonthebackporchandlookedatthestarswhileZombietoldthestoryofaqueennamedCassiopeiawholivedforeveronathroneinthesky.

“Butherthrone’stilteddown,”Samsaid,lookingattheconstellation.“Won’tshefallout?”Zombieclearedhisthroat.“Shewon’tfall.Herthroneisturnedthatwaysoshecankeepwatch

overherrealm.”“What’sarealm?”ZombiepressedhishandagainstSam’schest.

“Thisis.”Zombie’shandtoSam’sheart.“Here.”

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