Hector stands steadily as war rages around him. The yellow figures cut through his army, closing the distance until they finally reach him. He smashes his massive fists into them, his tail slicing through their bodies. His skin doesn’t burn with the impact, either because he’s immune or because they don’t want to kill him.
Despite his brutal attacks, the figures merge whenever they’re hit, then return to fight. Parts of them lie on the ground, dark gray and lifeless like Rose was at the end. Finally, they manage to grab hold of Hector and bring him to his knees. He screams and thrashes, but he can’t shake them off. They lie on top of him, absorbing him into them until all that remains is a single flat layer of substance, pulsing in yellow light.
I rise to my feet. Dark shapes clash inside the substance as the battle rages on. I jolt backward when Hector resurfaces, waving his hands as he’s trying to climb back out. Parts of his face have melted, leaving the bones underneath exposed. He meets my eyes and tries to reach me, but I stand my ground and watch as dozens of hands drag him back down.
I should use the opportunity to escape, but I’m not leaving Timothy behind. The yellow light suddenly dims, leaving me confused. Seconds later, horrible screams fill the dome. I cover my ears and fall to my knees, but I can’t escape the sounds of death.
Are they sacrificing themselves to end Hector, or is he the one killing them all?
When it all grows quiet, I know I’ll never know for sure. I dare to open my eyes and stand up on shaky feet. The substance lies gray and lifeless. I have no choice but to step on it, causing it to dissolve into dust.
“I’m sorry,” I say. They didn’t have to leave their home and fight our war. Maybe they drew comfort from having one of their children returned to them after all these years.
I take a breath and force myself to look up at what my brain is not willing to accept. Timothy still lies at the mouth of the outflow, half his head gone. A hole grows in the center of my heart as I walk numbly toward my dead friend. I don’t feel that I’m crying, but tears slide down my cheeks. I step into the water and make the short distance to the outflow, which is the same height as me.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” I say, trying not to be angry with him, but it hurts so fucking much. I sob as I stroke his cold and lifeless body. His palms are already turning pale. “Why did you have to come here?”
I can’t pull him out because he’s too heavy. My head hurts from Hector’s strike, and all I want is to curl into a ball and pretend that none of this is real. In an alternative universe, wewere never betrayed by the king. We had made our way safely back to Unity with Otto, Trey, Timothy and Caden.
Before I can decide what to do, I hear footsteps approaching fast. I hold my breath and wait with my feet still in the water. River enters the dome, panting with his face bruised. He must have run all the way from the communication center.
He looks around at the smoldering corpses and the lifeless substance. When he walks toward me, his eyes move to find Timothy. “No,” he gasps. “No no no nono!”
I can’t stomach the sorrow in his eyes. He runs through the water and carefully pulls Timothy from the outflow, holding him close to his chest. “Nanny Spider, you promised to be careful. You promised!”
“Are you sure he’s—?”
“I can’t feel his soul. It’s gone.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t save him.”
“It’s not your fault.” Through his tears, he looks around him. “Is Hector dead?”
“Yes. Is Caden…?”
“Alive, but he’s wounded. Josh had to shoot him to save me, and then Caden shot himself. They took him to Florence.”
I take it all in, finding comfort in knowing he still has a chance to survive this.
“We need to go,” I say, because I can’t stay in this mass grave any longer.
River leans down to kiss what remains of Timothy’s head. “Okay.”
Chapter 27
Finn
We step outside into sunlight, though dusk is almost here. The guards who were supposed to protect the entrance are now lying dead. At first I think that River is the one who killed them, but then I notice armed drones descending toward us.
“I couldn’t save my Nanny Spider, Mother,” River says.
The drones divide into two columns, creating a path for us like soldiers sharing respect. In the distance, Denver is burning, dark smoke rising against the orange glow of the setting sun.
Buck’s enormous buggy drives closer and stops in front of us. He shakes his head from the driver’s seat and sighs. “He deserved better.”
We climb into the back seat with Timothy still in River’s arms. I tell Buck, “There are prisoners still down there. Can you send someone to rescue them?”
“I will.”
