I tuck the gun back into its holster. Walk over to Kenji’s limp, still- breathing form, and throw him over my shoulder.
I kick down the door.
Walk directly back down the hall.
Kick my way through the entry to Sonya and Sara’s room, and drop Kenji on the bed.
“Fix him,” I say, hardly breathing now. “Please fix him.” I drop to my knees.
Sonya and Sara are on in an instant. They don’t speak. They don’t cry. They don’t scream. They don’t fall apart. They immediately get to work and I don’t think I have ever loved them more than I do in this moment. They lay him out flat on the bed, Sara standing on one side of him, Sonya on the other, and they hold their hands to his head, first. Then his heart.
Then they alternate, taking turns forcing life back into different parts of his body until Kenji is stirring, his eyes flickering but not opening, his head whipping back and forth.
I’m beginning to worry, but I’m too afraid, and too tired to move, not even an inch.
Finally, finally, they step back. Kenji’s eyes still aren’t open.
“Did it work?” I ask, terrified to hear the answer. Sonya and Sara nod. “He’s asleep,” they say. “Will he get better? Fully?” I ask, desperate now. “We hope,” Sonya says.
“But he’ll be asleep for a few days,” Sara says.
“The damage was very deep,” they say together. “What happened?” “Pressure waves,” I tell them, my words a whisper. “He shouldn’t have
been able to survive at all.”
Sonya and Sara are staring at me, still waiting.
I force myself to my feet. “Anderson is dead.” “You killed him,” they whisper. It’s not a question. I nod.
They’re staring at me, slack-jawed and stunned.
“Let’s go,” I say. “This war is over. We have to tell the others.” “But how will we get out?” Sara asks.
“There are soldiers everywhere,” Sonya says.
“Not anymore,” I tell them, too tired to explain, but so grateful for their help. For their existence. For the fact that they’re still alive. I offer them a small smile before walking over to the bed, and haul Kenji’s body up and over my shoulders. His chest is curved over my back, one of his arms thrown over my left shoulder, the other hanging in front of me. My right arm is wrapped around both his legs.
I hoist him higher up on my shoulders. “Ready?” I say, looking at the two of them. They nod.
I lead them out the door and down the halls, forgetting for a moment that I have no idea how to actually exit this ship. But the halls are lifeless. Everyone is either injured, unconscious, or gone. We sidestep fallen bodies, shift arms and legs out of the way. We’re all that’s left.
Me, carrying Kenji.
Sonya and Sara close behind.
I finally find a ladder. Climb up. Sonya and Sara hold Kenji’s weight between them and I reach down to haul him up. We have to do this three more times, until we’re finally on the top deck, where I toss him up over my shoulders for the final time.
And then we walk, silently, across the abandoned ship, down the pier, and back onto dry land. This time, I don’t care about stealing tanks. I don’t care about being seen. I don’t care about anything but finding my friends. And ending this war.
There’s an army tank abandoned on the side of the road. I test the door. Unlocked.
The girls clamber in and they help me haul Kenji onto their laps. I close the door shut behind them. Climb into the driver’s side. I press my thumb to the scanner to start the engine; so grateful Warner had us programmed to gain access to the system.
It’s only then that I remember I still have no idea how to drive. It’s probably a good thing I’m driving a tank.
I don’t pay attention to stop signs or streets. I drive the tank right off the road and straight back into the heart of the sector, in the general direction I know we came from. I’m too heavy on the gas, and too heavy on the brakes, but my mind is in a place where nothing else matters anymore.
I had a goal. Step one has been accomplished. And now I will see it through to the end.
I drop Sonya and Sara off at the barracks and help them carry Kenji out. Here, they’ll be safe. Here, they can rest. But it’s not my turn to stop yet.
I head directly up and through the military base, up the elevator to where I remember we got off for the assembly. I slam through door after door, heading straight outside and into the courtyard, where I climb until I reach the top. One hundred feet in the air.
Where it all began.
There’s a technician stand here, a maintenance system for the speakers that run throughout the sector. I remember this. I remember all of this now, even though my brain is numb and my hands are still shaking, and blood that does not belong to me is dripping down my face and onto my neck.
But this was the plan.
I have to finish the plan.
I punch the pass code into the keypad and wait to hear the click. The technician box snaps open. I scan the different fuses and buttons, and flip the switch that reads ALL SPEAKERS, and take a deep breath. Hit the intercom key.
“Attention, Sector 45,” I say, the words rough and loud and mottled in my ear. “The supreme commander of The Reestablishment is dead. The capital has surrendered. The war is over.” I’m shaking so hard now, my finger slipping on the button as I try to hold it down. “I repeat, the supreme commander of The Reestablishment is dead. The capital has surrendered. The war is over.”
Finish it, I tell myself. Finish it now.
“I am Juliette Ferrars, and I will lead this nation. I challenge anyone who would stand against me.”
