The Gathering (38 page)

A chandelier crashes to the ground, throwing glass shards everywhere. Adam hugs Cormack tighter to his chest. A flaming beam slams to the floor behind me, but in front of Adam. He dodges it and hurries through the foyer, out into the night, away from the inferno that has become the president’s home in Camp David.

All of us pour onto the grounds, away from the popping and hissing and crackling. Luka stands beside me. Link, Cap, Connal, Lexi, Glenda, Sticks, Non, Claire, Rosie, Ellen are here. Others, too. Link pulled at least fifty through. Smoke billows into the star-spotted sky. Sirens sound in the distance.

Cormack collapses on all fours, her body wracked with coughs, her nightgown covered in soot. She’s out, but she’s not safe. Not yet. An army of white-eyed men form a wall up ahead, blocking Cormack’s escape. And in front of them all—the angel of light from the dream we just left. From the dream I had after destroying Scarface. It’s impossibly large and bright and beautiful.

Felicia bursts through the door, pulling Bass out with her. She skids to a stop on my left, her expression as fierce as Adam’s.

It happens so fast, I don’t have time to react.

The angel throws out one of its gargantuan arms. A ball of black flame hurtles toward me. Luka throws a shield. The black flame ricochets off the side and hits Felicia square in the chest. She makes a sound like she’s been sucker-punched in the gut and clutches the spot. Tentacles of black slowly spread down her arms, up her neck. Her blackening face freezes in wide-eyed shock and she crumples in the grass.

I watch in horror, my mouth completely dry, waiting for her to disappear like Clive and Felix so she can wake up in her bed and comfort Henry. But she doesn’t disappear. The attack didn’t happen in Cormack’s dream. We already crossed through the doorway. Her unmoving form remains in the grass, as still as death.

The angel laughs a spine-tingling, mirthless laugh that sucks every drop of heat from the air. The creature grows, morphing into a sinister something I’ve seen before—the horned beast I doodled on my folder back when I lived in Jude. Its mesmerizing beauty is replaced by a vile ugliness unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

“Do you think you can beat
me
, Teresa Eckhart?” The beast holds up its hands and spins another ball of black flame between them. “Don’t be a fool. Forfeit now, and I’ll spare the ones you love before they end up as dead as your father. As dead as your mother. As dead as your brother.”

No
. It can’t be true. They can’t be dead. This monster is lying. It’s a liar like Scarface. “My mom and Pete are alive.”

It lets loose another bone-chilling laugh and twirls the flame faster. “For how much longer? I’ll give you to the count of three to decide. One … two …”

My ears pop. The air seems to shrink, pressing in around my skull.

“Three.” The beast throws the ball of fire. Only it doesn’t zoom at me; it zooms at Link. I watch in horrific slow motion as his warm, amber eyes widen like Felicia’s.

A scream tears up my throat.

Light hurtles toward the black, but it doesn’t come from me. It comes from Luka, who’s protecting me. Always. Forever. By saving Link. His shield collides with the black fire right before it hits its mark and explodes, blasting Link off his feet, onto the ground where he lies beside Felicia.

The beast commands its troops to charge.

I let out a savage cry and with fire raging in my heart, I sprint headlong into battle, Luka right beside me, the others following behind. We collide in a mass of chaos. I twist and turn and spin—throwing knees and elbows, feet and fists—taking out ten, fifteen, twenty at a time, determined to get to the beast. To kill it like I killed Scarface.

I race ahead of Luka, who throws his shield again and again—so powerful, it blasts the white-eyed men apart. Even so, there are too many. We are impossibly outnumbered. They keep coming at me, closing in until I’m completely swarmed. I want them to bind me so I can throw my shield. So I can chase this darkness away. But they don’t. It’s like they know what I’m capable of and how to avoid it.

Luka sprints toward me, but they come at him, too. No matter how many shields he throws, he can’t get to me. We’re losing. It’s hopeless. All around, our side is brought down and bound—Jose, Rosie, Ellen, Bass, Sticks, Non, Claire, Connal—who thrashes in a desperate attempt to escape—and Lexi, who’s doing everything she can to get to him.

The beast stirs up more fire and lightning and a fierce wind. Adam and Cormack lay flat on the ground, his body covering hers from flying debris.

“Tess!” Luka’s eyes find mine, and this look crosses his face. It’s the same look Gabe wore before he died, when it was Luka we were fighting for.

Don’t
, I want to scream.
Don’t give me your life!

The enemy brings Lexi down.

Cap, too.

Luka lifts his arms.

“No!” The word scrapes its way out, ragged and raw.

But it’s too late. A blinding flash of light illuminates everything and hurtles toward me.

Some people say a person’s life flashes before their eyes moments before death. I don’t know if I’m going to die, but snippets come. A reel of images that play in fast forward. It’s not just my life. And it’s not just things that have already happened. It’s a mixture of the past and the future. Felicia, dead in the grass. Henry, growing up without a mother. My father, murdered in a lonely prison cell just when he finally believed. Luka on my first day of school. Link and me, watching the birds and eating popcorn. My mother’s tight, trembling embrace when she found out Pete was going to live. Luka, carrying me out of the Edward Brooks Facility. Leela sitting on my bed, painting her toenails. Clive, saying he wants to give his children a world worth living in. Entire refugee communities, wiped out. Mass graves. Innocent lives. Gabe dead. Jillian murdered. The gun between my hands. My grandmother crumpling to the ground. And Luka’s life, hurtling toward me.

I brace myself. I don’t have to accept it. It’s my choice. This is what I know. I can save Luka. I can keep him alive. He doesn’t have to die. I don’t have to lose him.

Fear only has power when you let it make your choices.

This I know, too. My grandmother’s blood might run through my veins, but that doesn’t mean I have to make her choices. With Luka’s eyes fastened on mine—filled with confidence and victory and all the love that’s left in the world—I open my arms wide and with a strength that doesn’t belong to me, I accept his sacrifice.

I absorb it.

I take it in.

Luka’s life fills everything. Every atom. Every corner, every crevice of my soul, even the dark parts. It’s a thousand times more intense than Gabe’s. So hot and powerful I have to throw it out immediately. I heave it from my hands and it rushes forth in a sonic boom, consuming all traces of evil in its path, and it doesn’t stop. It keeps coming.

My heart shatters into a million pieces as I fight. For my mom and my brother and Leela and Link and Cap. For my father and Jillian and Felicia and Gabe and Dr. Roth and all the innocent people who’ve been murdered in secret. I fight for the dead and I fight for the living. I fight for Luka. I will be everything he believes me to be. Brave and strong, a warrior who chooses light over dark, good over evil, no matter the cost. Even when it’s impossible. Even when what waits on the other side might kill me.

I heave out what’s left of his transurgence. It chases down the horned beast and splits it wide open. A shaft of light rises up out of its chest, into the clouds, stopping the wind. Stopping the lightning. There’s an atrocious, ear-splitting sound—like the screams of a million people writhing in agony. The beast shatters into jagged pieces, like my heart. They fly apart and fade away. And then it ends and all the darkness is gone.

Flashing lights and sirens surround the property.

Adam lifts President Cormack to her feet and rushes her to safety.

I take several staggering steps toward Luka and drop to my knees by his still form.

We won.

Victory is ours.

And my Keeper is dead.

To Die is to Live

F
irefighters pour out of firetrucks and start dousing the flames with large hoses, unaware that a battle just ended. Unaware that people are scattered about the grounds, shell-shocked over the sudden end. At first, everyone stands in a confused daze, looking around for something else to happen. When nothing does, they fall into relieved celebration. Lexi scrambles to her feet and throws herself into Connal’s arms. Sticks kisses his wife. Declan and Jose thump each other on the back. Ellen rubs the top of Rosie’s head, then draws her into a hug. Two women I don’t recognize approach Felicia’s lifeless form.

I stay where I am, on my knees. Unable to move. Unable to breathe.

Cap bends over Luka on one knee with his head bowed, like one honoring a fallen soldier.

A tear tumbles down my cheek, carving a wet path through the grime and the grit. I scratch the inside of my wrist. It’s numb. I can’t feel it. But this isn’t a dream. This is all very real. Luka Williams—the boy who changed my life forever—is gone. There will be no rescue mission. No last-ditch effort to get him back. His life is over. He gave it all away.

Mori est Vivire
.

To die is to live.

But he’s not living. Not anymore.

A hole rips open inside my chest. I cup my hand over my mouth, trapping the sob inside. Link kneels beside me. He’s alive. He’s okay. Because Luka saved him. Luka saved us all. Link wraps his arm around my shoulders. I turn my head and cry myself ragged into his chest. His grip tightens as if he can hold me together. But it’s too late. I’ve already broken apart.

He’s dead. Luka’s dead. He’s never going to wake up. Or graduate from high school or go to college. He’ll never tease Rosie or get to know my mother. He’ll never surf again, or teach me how. I won’t feel his warm hand holding mine. No more crooked smile. No more kisses that set my skin on fire. No more hand against my stomach, lips next to my ear—giving me my breath when anxiety has its way.

People gather around us, their whispered questions—
What happened? How did we win?
—fall into a hushed reverence, punctuated by the shouting of firefighters. It’s not until the first rays of sunlight crest the horizon that people begin to disappear. They will wake up in their beds in the decimated city of Newport, Rhode Island. They will toast to victory. They will probably toast to Luka.

Cap squeezes my shoulder. “We should go.”

I shake my head, because I can’t. I can’t leave this place, not when I can still feel Luka’s life. It’s like a phantom limb, one I cling to for all I’m worth.

“Come on,” he says.

“No.” I don’t want to rejoin my body. Not now. Maybe not ever. I’m pretty sure my body can’t handle this amount of pain.

Cap releases a long sigh, gives my shoulder another squeeze, then disappears. It’s only Link now. He stays with me while the firefighters snuff out the last of the flames. He sits with me in the grass and holds my hand while I stare numbly at Luka’s still form. He wanted a lifetime of moments and memories together, but we won’t get them. All I can do is run the ones we did have over and over in my mind while the hole in my chest widens. Leaving a chasm where my heart should be.

Link shifts beside me.

I blink several times and sit up straighter.

Luka fades away.

I reach out to grab him. It’s too soon. I need more time. But he dissolves into nothing, and so, too, does the phantom limb. He takes all traces of his life with him. I’m left with nothing to stare at but the grass.

“Come on, Xena,” Link says.

I’ll never be ready, but there’s nothing for me here. All that remains is a charred house and smoky haze. Luka is no more. Nothing I can do will bring him back. There’s no reason to stay on this battlefield. Not when the war is over.

Closure

A
rtificial light squeezes through the crack beneath my door. So does the sound of excited conversation. People out in the hallway—speculating, hoping, celebrating. That this is it. That the war is over. Joanna’s bed is unmade and empty. The fluorescent green numbers on the clock read 6:26.

My stomach rolls. A lump of pain expands in the back of my throat. All the world’s gravity parks on top of my chest. My heart, however, remains numb. Or maybe it’s gone. Maybe I’ll live the rest of my life without one.

The door opens, letting in a flood of brightness. Cap wheels inside wearing a pair of sweats over his emaciated legs. It’s how I feel. Emaciated. Mind, body, and soul. He flips on the light switch. “Come with me.”

I curl onto my side and stare at the wall. I did what I was supposed to do. I played my part. I’m done now. I have nothing left. I don’t have to go anywhere. I want to sleep. Escape to a dream like the people who are hijacked, only I will go voluntarily. I will construct a world where Luka is alive and I’ll stay forever.

Cap wheels closer. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

I’m positive there’s nothing I want to see, but I also don’t have any energy to argue. So I force myself to sit up, every muscle in my body sore and stiff. Slowly, I stick my arms inside a zip-up hoodie by my bed and shuffle after Cap, each step an exhausting effort, like I’m trying to push through Jell-O instead of air.

The hallway is all movement and chatter.

“It’s breaking news on every station,” Cap says. “They’re calling it an internal terrorist attack.”

I stare at the back of his head as I shuffle behind him. Does he really think I care?

“Felix, Ronie, and Link are working on getting word from Adam. We want to make sure Cormack is safe.”

He stops in front of room fourteen.

The pain in the back of my throat throbs. This is what Cap wants me to see? It feels cruel. Uncaring. Cap is neither. I shake my head and walk away, faster than when I came. If I see Luka, the pain in my throat will turn into pain in my heart and I need that to stay numb.

“You should go inside.”

I stop, tears welling in my eyes. “You think that’ll make me feel better? Give me some sort of closure or something?” I swipe at my cheek—nausea morphing into anger. Red hot anger. I whirl around. “I don’t want to see him—”