“Where are Ian and Emory?” I ask Adam. “Did you get them out?”

“A couple of our guys were fighting not too far from here and managed to commandeer one of the tanks—I got them to carry those two back to Point,” he tells me, shouting so I can hear him. “It was the safest transport possible.”

I’m nodding, gasping for air as we fly through the streets and I’m trying to focus on the sounds around us, trying to figure out who’s winning, trying to figure out if our numbers have been decimated. We round the corner.

You’d think it’d be a massacre.

50 of our people are fighting against 500 of Anderson’s soldiers, who are unloading round after round, shooting at anything that could possibly be a target. Castle and the others are holding their ground, bloody and wounded but fighting back as best they can. Our men and women are armed and storming forward to match the shots of the opposition; others are fighting the only way they know how: one man has his hands to the ground, freezing the earth beneath the soldiers’ feet, causing them to lose balance; another man is darting through the soldiers with such speed he’s nothing but a blur, confusing the men and knocking them down and stealing their guns. I look up and see a woman hiding in a tree, throwing what must be knives or arrows in such rapid succession that the soldiers don’t have a moment to react before they’re hit from above.

Then there’s Castle in the middle of it all, his hands outstretched over his head, collecting a whirlwind of particles, debris, scattered strips of steel and broken branches with nothing more than the coercion of his fingertips. The others have formed a human wall around him, protecting him as he forms a cyclone of such magnitude that even I can see he’s straining to maintain control of it.

Then

he lets go.

The soldiers are shouting, screaming, running back and ducking for cover but most are too slow to escape the reach of so much destruction and they’re down, impaled by shards of glass and stone and wood and broken metal but I know this defense won’t last for long.

Someone has to tell Castle.

Someone has to tell him to go, to get out of here, that Anderson is down and that we have 2 of our hostages and Warner in tow. He has to get our men and women back to Omega Point before the soldiers get smart and someone throws a bomb big enough to destroy everything. Our numbers won’t hold up for much longer and this is the perfect opportunity for them to get safe.

I tell Adam and Kenji what I’m thinking.

“But how?” Kenji shouts above the chaos. “How can we get to him? If we run through there we’re dead! We need some kind of distraction—”

“What?” I yell back.

“A distraction!” he shouts. “We need something to throw off the soldiers long enough for one of us to grab Castle and give him the green light—we don’t have much time—”

Adam is already trying to grab me, he’s already trying to stop me, he’s already begging me not to do what he thinks I’m going to do and I tell him it’s okay. I tell him not to worry. I tell him to get the others to safety and promise him I’m going to be just fine but he reaches for me, he’s pleading with his eyes and I’m so tempted to stay here, right next to him, but I break away. I finally know what I need to do; I’m finally ready to help; I’m finally kind of a little bit sure that maybe this time I might be able to control it and I have to try.

So I stumble back.

I close my eyes.

I let go.

I fall to my knees and press my palm to the ground and feel the power coursing through me, feel it curdling in my blood and mixing with the anger, the passion, the fire inside of me and I think of every time my parents called me a monster, a horrible terrifying mistake and I think of all the nights I sobbed myself to sleep and see all the faces that wanted me dead and then it’s like a slide show of images reeling through my mind, men and women and children, innocent protesters run over in the streets; I see guns and bombs, fire and devastation, so much suffering suffering suffering and I steel myself. I flex my fist. I pull back my arm and

I

s h a t t e r

what’s left of this earth.

FORTY

I’m still here.

I open my eyes and I’m momentarily astonished, confused, half expecting to find myself dead or brain-damaged or at the very least mangled on the ground, but this reality refuses to vanish.

The world under my feet is rumbling, rattling, shaking and thundering to life and my fist is still pressed into the ground and I’m afraid to let go. I’m on my knees, looking up at both sides of this battle and I see the soldiers slowing down. I see their eyes dart around. I see their feet slipping failing to stay standing and the snaps, the groans, the unmistakable cracks that are now creaking through the middle of the pavement cannot be ignored and it’s like the jaws of life are stretching their joints, grinding their teeth, yawning themselves awake to witness our disgrace.

The ground looks around, its mouth gaping open at the injustice, the violence, the calculated ploys for power that stop for no one and nothing and are sated only by the blood of the weak, the screams of the unwilling. It’s as if the earth thought to take a peek at what we’ve been doing all this time and it’s terrifying just how disappointed it sounds.

Adam is running.

He’s dashing through a crowd still gasping for air and an explanation for the earthquake under their feet and he tackles Castle, he pins him down, he’s shouting to the men and the women and he ducks, he dodges a stray bullet, he pulls Castle to his feet and our people have begun to run.

The soldiers on the opposite side are stumbling over each other and tripping into a tangle of limbs as they try to outrun one another and I’m wondering how much longer I have to hold on, how much longer this must go on before it’s sufficient, and Kenji shouts, “Juliette!”

And I spin around just in time to hear him tell me to let go.

So I do.

The wind the trees the fallen leaves all slip and slide back into place with one giant inhalation and everything stops and for a moment I can’t remember what it’s like to live in a world that isn’t falling apart.

Kenji yanks me up by the arm and we’re running, we’re the last of our group to leave and he’s asking me if I’m okay and I’m wondering how he’s still carrying Warner, I’m thinking Kenji must be a hell of a lot stronger than he looks, and I’m thinking I’m too hard on him sometimes, I’m thinking I don’t give him enough credit. I’m just beginning to realize that he’s one of my favorite people on this planet and I’m so happy he’s okay.

I’m so happy he’s my friend.

I cling to his hand and let him lead me toward a tank abandoned on our side of the divide and suddenly I realize I can’t see Adam, that I don’t know where he’s gone and I’m frantic, I’m screaming his name until I feel his arms around my waist, his words in my ear, and we’re still diving for cover as the final shots sound in the distance.

We clamber into the tank.

We close the doors.

We disappear.

FORTY-ONE

Warner’s head is on my lap.

His face is smooth and calm and peaceful in a way I’ve never seen it and I almost reach out to stroke his hair before I remember exactly how awkward this actually is.

Murderer on my lap

Murderer on my lap

Murderer on my lap

I look to my right.

Warner’s legs are resting on Adam’s knees and he looks just as uncomfortable as I am.

“Hang tight, guys,” Kenji says, still driving the tank toward Omega Point. “I know this is about a million different kinds of weird, but I didn’t exactly have enough time to think of a better plan.”

He glances at the 2 3 of us but no one says a word until

“I’m so happy you guys are okay.” I say it like those 9 syllables have been sitting inside of me for too long, like they’ve been kicked out, evicted from my mouth, and only then do I realize exactly how worried I was that the 3 of us wouldn’t make it back alive. “I’m so, so happy you’re okay.”

Deep, solemn, steady breathing all around.

“How are you feeling?” Adam asks me. “Your arm—you’re all right?”

“Yeah.” I flex my wrist and try not to wince. “I’m okay. These gloves and this metal thing actually helped, I think.” I wiggle my fingers. Examine my gloves. “Nothing is broken.”

“That was pretty badass,” Kenji says to me. “You really saved us back there.”

I shake my head. “Kenji—about what happened—in the house—I’m really sorry, I—”

“Hey, how about let’s not talk about that right now.”

“What’s going on?” Adam asks, alert. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Kenji says quickly.

Adam ignores him. Looks at me. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“I just—I j-just—” I struggle to speak. “What happened—with Warner’s da—”

Kenji swears very loudly.

My mouth freezes midmovement.

My cheeks burn as I realize what I’ve said. As I remember what Adam said just before we ran from that house. He’s suddenly pale, pressing his lips together and looking away, out the tiny window of this tank.

“Listen …” Kenji clears his throat. “We don’t have to talk about that, okay? In fact, I think I might rather not talk about that? Because that shit is just too weird for me to—”

“I don’t know how it’s even possible,” Adam whispers. He’s blinking, staring straight ahead now, blinking and blinking and blinking and “I keep thinking I must be dreaming,” he says, “that I’m just hallucinating this whole thing. But then”—he drops his head in his hands, laughs a harsh laugh—“that is one face I will never forget.”

“Didn’t—didn’t you ever meet the supreme commander?” I dare to ask. “Or even see a picture of him …? Isn’t that something you’d see in the army?”

Adam shakes his head.

Kenji speaks. “His whole kick was always being, like, invisible. He got some sick thrill out of being this unseen power.”

“Fear of the unknown?”

“Something like that, yeah. I heard he didn’t want his pictures anywhere—didn’t make any public speeches, either—because he thought if people could put a face on him, it would make him vulnerable. Human. And he always got his thrills from scaring the shit out of everyone. Being the ultimate power. The ultimate threat. Like—how can you fight something if you can’t even see it? Can’t even find it?”

“That’s why it was such a big deal for him to be here,” I realize out loud.

“Pretty much.”

“But you thought your dad was dead,” I say to Adam. “I thought you said he was dead?”

“Just so you guys know,” Kenji interjects, “I’m still voting for the we don’t have to talk about this option. You know. Just so you know. Just putting that out there.”