Above us, the sky lightens to gray and the stars begin to fade.
This is it. Green Day. The day the bombs fall. I look for the mothership but can’t spot it in the brightening sky.
Conversation with the ground over, the sergeant pulls off her headset. Her eyes on my face, her hand resting on the butt of her sidearm. Nugget stiffens beside me; he knows what’s coming before I do; his hands claw at his harness, though there’s nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.
The orders have changed. She draws her weapon and levels it at his head.
I throw myself in front of him. Finally the circle comes round. Time to pay the debt.
CASSIE
THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR behind me, soldiers flood into the room. They quickly spread out shoulder to shoulder from wall to wall, in two rows, the closest one kneeling, two dozen rifles aimed at a single curly-headed, crooked-nosed target. I turn and face them. They don’t know me, but I know them. I recognize each and every face of the ones who have come to kill me.
I know what they remember and what they can’t. I hold them inside me. It’s like I’m about to be murdered by a human mosaic of myself. Makes you wonder: Is this murder? Or suicide?
I close my eyes. I’m sorry, Sams. I tried.
He is with me now, my brother; I feel him.
And that’s good. At least when I die, I will not be alone.
RINGER
THE STAIRWAY DOOR slams open and they pound into the hall, weapons drawn. Fingers tighten on triggers.
Too late for them.
Too late for me.
I press the button.
ZOMBIE
ACROSS THE AISLE, the sergeant jerks in her seat; her beautiful dark eyes roll back; her skull pops against the bulkhead; and then she slumps against her harness. Megan bolts upright with a startled cry. Every recruit in the hold has followed the sergeant’s lead.
Including the pilot.
The chopper’s nose dips, whipping hard to the right and slamming me into Nugget, who’s not wasting any time unbuckling himself. The damn kid gets everything before I do. I play a fast, desperate game of slappies with Megan, struggling to free her first. Nugget’s hurled from his seat—I catch hold of his sleeve and yank him into my chest. Then Megan’s loose but I’m not, holding on to her with one hand and Nugget with the other.
“The river!” I scream at him.
He nods. He’s the coolest one among us. His little fingers fly over the buckles to set me free.
The chopper barrels toward the water. “Hang on to me!” I shout. “Don’t let go!”
We’re falling sideways. The river is a featureless black wall rushing toward the open hatch on Nugget’s side.
“ONE!”
Nugget closes his eyes.
“TWO!”
Megan screams.
“THREE!”
I swivel out of the seat, a kid under each arm, and drop feetfirst toward the opening.
CASSIE
THE SOLDIERS FALL to the ground. One second they’re up, the next they’re down. Somebody’s fried their brains. I’m not sure how, but I’m pretty sure who.
I turn away. I’ve seen enough bodies to last my ten thousand lifetimes, from my mother drowning in her own blood to my father writhing gut-shot in the dirt, from the ones before and the ones after and the ones in between, my dead and their dead, our dead.
Yeah, I’ve seen enough.
Plus, those kids who just fell, they’re my bodies, too, in a way. It’s like looking down at your own corpse. Times twelve.
I step inside the pod. I lower myself into the chair. I buckle myself in, pulling tight the straps that cross my chest. In my hand a dead man’s thumb. In my pocket a green capsule encased in plastic. In my head ten thousand voices that strangely sing as one. And in my heart, a stillness, a quiet place untouched by anything, beyond space, unbounded by time.
Cassie, do you want to fly?
The green pill fell out when I ripped myself from the Wonderland chair, and I picked it up without thinking about it, without even looking at it. Then I saw Ringer lying in that hallway and I remembered we’d swapped jackets. She’d been carrying around the bomb the whole time and didn’t tell anyone. I think I know why. I know her as well as she knows herself. Better, even, because I can remember what she’s forgotten.
I press Vosch’s severed thumb against the launch button. The hatch door closes, the locking mechanism hums. The ventilation system kicks on; cool air brushes against my cheek.
The pod shivers. I feel like raising my hands.
Yes, Daddy, I want to fly.
ZOMBIE
I LOSE THE KIDS when we hit the water. The force of our landing snatches them away. The chopper tumbles into the river several hundred yards upstream and the fireball paints the surface a dusky orange. I see Megan first, her face breaking the surface enough to allow her a gurgling scream. I grab her wrist and yank her toward me.
“Captain!” she yells.
Huh?
“I lost Captain!”