The thick mustached man looks back with a grin. “You got it, boss.”
I turn to Collins, who has remained unscathed during the last few days. She’s looking fine in her armor, red curls hanging on her shoulders. I feel like crap, and probably look worse, but I find myself smiling, perhaps fueled by relief, or adrenaline. “Hey.”
She turns to me, smiling.
“Wanna get hitched?” I ask. “Like right now?”
She nods, and laughs. “Let’s do it.”
I turn to Woodstock, but the man reads my mind. “First stop, Maigo. Second stop, Vegas.”
44
We didn’t quite make it to Vegas immediately after finding Maigo in the blackened city. We escorted Nemesis west as she followed her direct path back to the coast. She moved at a steady 70 mph clip, not quite a run, but she wasn’t taking her time, and I suspect she wasn’t moving faster because of the injuries to her side, her hands and all the internal injuries we couldn’t see. But she never slowed.
Military jets swarmed around us the whole way, eager to take a crack at the city destroyer, but it was easy to see that Nemesis wasn’t attacking, and no one wanted to be responsible for setting her on a rampage.
Like Boston, Washington D.C. and Los Angeles, several suburbs of Salt Lake City, and the central part of the city itself were a total loss. But the early evacuation efforts saved several hundred thousand people, including the suburbs to the north and southeast. The loss of life, combined with the destruction of Los Angeles, Lompoc and everything in between has been estimated to be upwards of five hundred thousand, most of them lost during the battles with the Tsuchi or consumed by the Tsuchis, fueling their rapid growth.
That number makes this the most deadly Kaiju attack since Nemesis first appeared. The FC-P, once again with Endo’s help—and sacrifice—managed to aid Nemesis and stop the Kaiju threat. Strangely, despite the loss of life, and previous actions in Boston, Nemesis is getting a reputation for being mankind’s protector, even if she’s also our judge, jury and executioner. She’s now, very publicly, stopped seven other Kaiju whose threat to the planet was even more severe. The question I have is this: will Nemesis, bonded with Endo, be content to remain in the ocean?
Not a chance, I think. When you come right down to it, Endo was a very serious, very deadly fanboy. He’s not going to want to swim around the oceans munching whales. He’s going to want the full experience. Maigo says that he’ll feel Nemesis’s thirst for vengeance just as strongly as the goddess. He’ll just process it differently...and I hope, differently enough to show a little restraint and maybe avoid casually strolling through cities while en route to his targets. Of course, the hardest part is that it’s going to be my job to stop Nemesis.
It was night when the Queen of the Monsters reached the ocean and slipped into the waves without a look back. We parted as allies, but if she returns for anything other than putting the hurt on another Kaiju...and puts people in danger, I’m going to have to hit her with everything we have. And yeah, despite Endo being a part of the Kaiju now, Nemesis will always be a ‘she’ to me.
It’s been two days since then, and we’re back in Beverly, most of us walking around the joint like it’s a geriatric home. But we’re not complaining. While Woodstock, Lilly, Hawkins, Joliet and I are bruised, broken and perforated, Maigo, Collins, Cooper and Watson are doting on us, and Buddy makes the rounds licking people’s feet, and arms, and hands, and pants—his stubby tail wagging madly the whole time. I think he’s losing his mind, or just really happy to see us alive. Even Lilly is letting the dog lick her.
I’ve talked to the President and briefed representatives of every agency involved in investigating and responding to the aftermath, which, thankfully, isn’t our job. The last few days have been a blur of phone calls and meetings. And right now, sitting on the deck of the Crow’s Nest, hard cider in hand, sun on my face, it all feels a million miles away. With my eyes closed, head tilted back, I try to forget the horrible things I’ve seen. But I can’t.
Of all the things I’ve seen—destroyed cities, people eaten whole, genetic monstrosities—my thoughts keep wandering back to Area 51, and what’s hidden beneath the sands. What it means for all of us.
The sound of a shifting deck chair pulls me back to the here and now. Collins sits down beside me, beer in hand. We look at each other, sharing words without speaking until we both smile. I hold my bottle up in a mock toast. “Hello, wife.”