The Girl Who Dared to Think 7: The Girl Who Dared to Fight

“What?” She gaped, her eyebrows going up a few notches. “That’s not possible.”

“Get this: he invented a serum that kept his cells alive and used Kurt to keep his mental state from deteriorating.” I paused. I still had no idea what Kurt’s motivations for helping Sage were, and thinking of it suddenly had my mind mulling it over, but I pushed it aside. Now wasn’t the time. “He’s actually trying to use Kurt to replace Scipio.”

“Crazy,” Zoe said. “Why’d he need Leo?”

I sighed and ran a hand over my face. “He needs the protocols Lionel Scipio hid in Leo’s code to upload Kurt as the main AI.”

“Oh. Do you know where he’ll be?”

I nodded, smiling down at her in what I hoped was a confident way. “We’ll get him back and stop this,” I told her, trying to reassure her that we’d all be okay.

We wouldn’t be, of course. Sage had almost everything he needed, except for Tony, and I wasn’t sure he absolutely needed the last AI fragment.

But Zoe didn’t have to worry about that. All she had to know was that everything was under control. Even if it was a lie. “So, yeah. There’s that. I… um… I found Tony. He’s in my net right now, and he’s kind of got a bad habit of taking over my body when I least want him to, but we’re making it work.”

“That’s nice,” Zoe said, a small smile playing on her lips. “And I hope Tony doesn’t get offended by this, but I want to talk to you about something a little more serious. Like how you’re doing.”

I pressed my lips together. I had thought my distraction had worked, but Zoe was acting like a dog with a bone on this question. “I told you I’m fine,” I said, knowing damn well I had told her no such thing. I wasn’t even sure what compelled me to say it like that, but I quickly glossed over it, adding, “I mean, I’ve got a little headache, but I’m managing. This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

Zoe laughed at that. “Which is why I’m asking. And don’t give me that crap about you being fine. I knew you’d say that, and I know you’re lying. You’re blaming yourself for what happened to me, aren’t you?”

I met her blue gaze for several seconds, and then looked away, hating that she knew me so well. “It’s my fault,” I started. “If I had just—”

She laughed bitterly, and it quickly turned into a racking cough. She turned her head to the side away from me until it subsided into rough pants of her trying to catch her breath. “I’m fine,” she said when she looked back to notice me hovering over her, alarm and fear making my muscles tense. “I just think it’s very funny that you think you could’ve done anything to change the outcome of what happened. Like, I love you, Liana, and I know you take being our leader really seriously, but sometimes you are too arrogant for words! I mean, c’mon… What could you have done differently about anything that happened? You fought your way through forty legacies to get to us without getting a scratch, and you think you could’ve done more? No human being could’ve done that in the first place!”

“Well, I had Tony to help me, and that’s beside the point,” I said, searching for a way to defend my guilt. Unless Zoe saw that I was the cause of her condition, she’d never let me apologize, and I needed her to know how sorry I was. “Those legacies were in the Citadel because I put them there! They were able to break free because I missed one—the most important one—and that is costing you your life! Can’t you see how that’s my fault?”

“Nope,” Zoe said firmly, and I looked back over at her to see her jaw set at a stubborn angle. “You didn’t let them go. You didn’t train them to be murderers and fanatics. You didn’t unleash the sentinels, and you most certainly did not get me killed. Nothing that has happened is your fault, and I refuse to die with you believing that it is. Consider it my final request. And you can’t not fulfill a dying girl’s last request. It’s in the rules.”

Whatever retort I had been attempting to craft during her rant died under the final request part. She had a point, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t going to feel guilty. I couldn’t just turn it off like that, no matter what she said. I should’ve been faster and smarter during the fight. If I had just been able to keep Rose and Dylan with me, maybe I could’ve…

I stopped the thought there. I had lost them both, and now I was losing Zoe. And there was no changing that.

The only thing I could do was to give Zoe what she wanted and tell her how I was doing. Without the guilt.

“I know I’m not supposed to be, but I’m really scared, Zo,” I said, my eyes tearing up. “And I know you said no tears, but I… I can’t help it. I love you. And the fact that this is happening to you is tearing me apart. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

She smiled at me, managing to look beautiful in spite of the gray pallor of her face. “You’re going to keep going,” she said with a nod, her own eyes filling with tears. “You’re going to fight for the Tower, and you’re going to win. You’re going to change our world, just like I always believed you could. And… you’re going to take care of Eric. Because that man is going to be a hot mess after I die.”

“So am I,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “Please, Zoe, don’t die. I can’t… I can’t be without you. Please.”

“Sorry, girl,” she breathed, a tear slipping from her eye. “You know I would give you anything in the world, and there’s nothing I’d love more than to give you this, but it’s out of my control. It’s out of our control. You have to accept it.”

I began to sob then, resting my head against her shoulder, unable to take it anymore, and Zoe—the girl who should’ve been yelling at me for making her death all about my fear and pain—stroked my hair, and did her best to whisper reassurances in my ear. She was too good for me, too good for this world, and her light was being extinguished.

“I’m sorry,” I said, sitting up when it finally hit me that I had broken her rules. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, trying to wipe away my tears. “We shouldn’t be… I just… I don’t know… Oh God.”

I couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence, and I faltered, looking away, as lost as a small boat in a storm.

“Yeah, I hear you,” she whispered, patting my arm. “Those have pretty much been my thoughts the last few hours, and my suggestion is just to put it out of your head. There are a lot of questions that are going to be unanswered, and you know what? I’d rather spend my remaining time doing other things. Like asking you to find my mother when this is all over and tell her… Well, tell her I’m not sorry for joining the Cogs or being with Eric, but I love her all the same, okay?”

I nodded, my lower lip trembling. Zoe’s relationship with her mom was similar enough to how mine had been with my own mother that I understood the lack of apology, just as much as I understood her need to give her mother a parting message. I was sure my mom would’ve had a message for me, if she hadn’t died so suddenly, and I would’ve given anything to hear it.

Which was why, come hell or high water, I’d find a way to get Zoe’s message to her mother. “I promise,” I told her solemnly.

We fell silent for a moment, and on impulse, I laid my head down on Zoe’s shoulder and snuggled closer to her. “You know I’m going to miss you, right?”

“You better,” Zoe replied weakly. “Because I’m going to miss the hell out of you, too.”

Her words broke me in ways I couldn’t begin to describe: with unconditional love for her, with anger at myself, with pain at knowing that my existence would continue without her, and with crushing defeat that there was nothing I could do to stop it. My best friend was going to die, and I was never going to be able to talk to her again.