We rise up steadily, and the view of a mostly flattened and smoldering downtown Los Angeles comes into view. The fleet of C-130s can be seen far below, disgorging their contents, not on the fires, but on the dead Tsuchi to prevent the bacteria bomb from spreading.
I look back at the group. Collins is tending to the stranger dressed like a janitor. Hawkins is leaning over Lilly, and he notices my attention. “She’s hurt pretty bad. Going to need a hospital.”
“We’ll get her taken care of,” Silhouette says.
Hawkins looks ready to dive into the cockpit and start throwing punches. “The hell you will.”
“Look,” the now teamless BlackGuard leader says, “I saw what she did down there. Despite our actions against your people, she tried to save my man. That counts for a lot with me. I won’t let them take her, even if Cole orders me to. You have my word.”
“Aww, look at that, Hawkins,” I say, “you have your very own frenemy.” I glance toward Endo, who is still seated, paying me no attention, eyes out the front window...or projection. Whatever they’re called. “Isn’t it fun?”
“She’s rising,” Endo says, his voice a reverent whisper. He stands up and moves behind Silhouette, watching.
Maigo steps around the group, standing beside Endo, her face grim.
“She’s too strong for them,” Endo says to her. “She will not be defeated.”
I’m not sure if he’s just being hopeful or honestly confident that the bacteria bomb, which clearly worked against the Tsuchi, won’t be effective against Nemesis. But we’re going to find out soon enough, and I’m undecided about which outcome I’m hoping for. The same cannot be said for Endo and Maigo, who watch the unfolding scene like Red Sox fans do the last pitch of the final game in a tied World Series.
“There!” Endo says, pointing to the heap of destroyed skyscrapers lying over each other. The mound of crushed buildings rises, splits and then gives birth to Nemesis.
She stands slowly, shedding building remnants as she rises, getting to her feet and then shaking off Los Angeles like a wet dog. Beneath her is a charred swath of city and the crispy remains of the Tsuchi, recognizable only because its layers of armor are somewhat intact.
On her feet, Nemesis turns her head skyward and lets out a bellowing roar, looking more powerful than ever, as if the battle, instead of wearing her down, has only stoked the fires within her. She kicks her way free of the wreckage and surveys the area. Apparently satisfied, she turns first to the coast, and then inland, to the northeast.
Toward the second Tsuchi.
She takes one step to the north, which will take her through countless, densely populated cities, many of which have already been ravaged by the Tsuchi.
But then she stops, looking stunned. She turns her head back and forth, like someone who’s just been tapped on the shoulder, but doesn’t know by whom. And then the big Kaiju flinches, snapping her head back and roaring in pain.
At that same moment, Maigo winces and grabs her head, falling to her knees. The connection then projects to me as a dull headache.
“It’s burning her,” Maigo says.
Nemesis stumbles out of downtown, headed east now, toward the coast. She rakes at her head with the big claws, tears at her thick skin, no doubt removing the bacteria bomb in the process, but not the bacteria. It’s too late. It’s eating through her several feet of skin and will soon reach her brain.
Maigo closes her eyes and lowers her head. For a moment, I think she’s simply calming herself, but then I hear her gently whisper, “Run...run!”
And Nemesis does. I’m not sure whether Maigo actually managed to issue a command, or a suggestion, or if she still knows how Nemesis thinks, but the monsters runs.
Straight for the ocean.
For salt water.
Entire blocks of Inglewood neighborhoods are flattened.
How many people is she killing this time?
“She can save people, too,” Maigo says to me, once again knowing my thoughts. “From things that no one else can.”
“Killing thousands to save millions?” I say. “You think that’s okay?”
“What if it’s billions?”
I have no argument for that. The old Star Trek ‘Needs of the many outweighs the needs of the few,’ is a logical statement. But what good is logic, and saving lives, if you have to sacrifice your soul to do it? There are people dying below us. Children. Where is the justice in that? Who will take revenge on Nemesis for the death and pain she causes?
Just two miles from the ocean, skirting the edge of LAX, she flinches, roars and catches her foot on the swirling overpasses where the 405 and 110 freeways intersect. Nemesis stumbles, falls and rolls, leveling the Airport Courthouse building and the surrounding neighborhoods.
Is that it? Is she down?
“Get up,” Maigo whispers, tears in her eyes. “You’re almost there.”