Monsters of Men (Page 47)

And he looks at the Mayor, still kneeling, still bleeding, and then he gives me a nod, and starts yelling at another group of soldiers to get buckets, to save our water and food–

And the world is taking off all round us, screaming and yelling and tearing itself to pieces and there’s a line of soldiers now pressing forward, pushing the Spackle back from the water tank–

And I’m standing over the Mayor, who’s kneeling there, holding his head, the blood seeping out all thick-like and I ain’t kneeling down next to him, I ain’t seeing if he’s all right, I ain’t doing nothing to help him.

But I find I ain’t leaving him neither.

“You hit me, Todd,” I hear him say, his voice as thick as his blood.

“You needed to be hit, you idiot! You were gonna get everyone killed!”

He looks up at that, his hand still to his head. “I was,” he says. “You were right to stop me.”

“No effing kidding.”

“But you did it, Todd,” the Mayor says, breathing heavy. “For a minute there, when the moment called for it. You were a leader of men.”

And then the water tank collapses.

{VIOLA}

“There’s been a big attack,” Bradley says as we run towards him.

“How big?” I say, reaching immediately for my comm.

“There was a bright flash on one of the probes and then–”

He stops because we hear another sound.

Screaming at the edge of the forest.

“What now?” Simone says.

Voices rise at the line of trees, and we see people standing up from their campfires and more screams–

And Lee–

Lee–

Stumbling out of the crowd–

Covered in blood–

Holding his hands to his face–

“LEE!”

And I’m running as fast as I can, though the fever’s slowing me down and I can’t catch my breath and Bradley and Mistress Coyle are running past me, and they’re grabbing Lee and laying him down on the ground, Mistress Coyle having to forcibly pull his hands away from his bloody face–

And another voice screams in the crowd–

As we see–

Lee’s eyes–

They’re gone–

Just gone–

Burned away in a slash of blood–

Burned away as if by acid–

“Lee!” I say, kneeling down beside him. “Lee, can you hear me?”

“Viola?” he says, reaching out with his bloody hands. “I can’t see you! I can’t see!”

“I’m here!” I grab his hands, holding them tight. “I’m here!”

“What happened, Lee?” Bradley says, low and calm. “Where’s the rest of the hunting party?”

“They’re dead,” Lee says. “Oh, God, they’re dead. Magnus is dead.”

And we know what he’s going to say next, know because we can see it in his Noise–

“The Spackle,” Lee says. “The Spackle are coming.”

[TODD]

The legs of the tank give way and the huge metal container of water comes tumbling down, almost too slow to be real–

It smashes to the ground, crushing at least one soldier underneath it–

And every drop of water we had to drink comes rushing out in a solid wall–

Heading right for us–

The Mayor’s still wobbly on his feet, still woozy–

“RUN!” I shout, sending it out in my Noise while grabbing a handful of the Mayor’s precious uniform and dragging him away–

The wall of water slams up the street and into the square after us, knocking over soldiers and Spackle, sweeping up tents and beds in one great big soup–

And it’s putting out the fire in the foodstore, but it’s putting it out with the last of our water–

And I’m dragging the Mayor nearly on his heels, getting us outta the way, thru soldiers I’m shouting at to “MOVE!” as we near–

And they do move–

And we make it up the front steps of a house–

And the water rushes past us, sloshing up after us to our knees, but rushing by and getting lower every second, sinking into the ground–

Taking our future with it.

And then almost as fast as it came, it’s gone, leaving a sopping square covered in mess and bodies of all sorts–

And I just catch my breath for a second and look out on the chaos, the Mayor recovering beside me–

And then I see–

Oh, no–

There, on the ground, pushed to the side by the water–

No–

James.

James, lying face-up, staring up at the sky above–

A hole through his throat.

I’m faintly aware of dropping my rifle, of running over to him, splashing thru the water and falling to my knees beside him.

James who I controlled. James who I sent over this way for no good reason other than my desire–

James who I sent right to his death.

Oh, no.

Oh, please, no.

“Well, that’s a damn shame,” the Mayor says behind me, sounding true, sounding almost kind. “I’m very sorry about your friend. But you did save me, Todd. Twice. Once from my own foolishness and once from a wall of water.”

I don’t say nothing. I ain’t taking my eyes off James’s face, still innocent, still nice and open and friendly, even when there ain’t no sound coming outta him at all.

The battle’s leaving us now. Mr O’Hare’s guns are blazing on distant streets. But what good will it do?

They got the water tank.

They’ve killed us.

I barely hear the Mayor sigh. “I think it’s time I met these settler friends of yours, Todd,” he says. “And I think it’s finally time I had a nice long talk with Mistress Coyle.”

I use my fingertips to close James’s eyes, remembering when I did it for Davy Prentiss, feeling the same hollowness in my Noise, and I can’t even think I’m sorry cuz it don’t feel like nearly enough, not like nearly enough at all, no matter if I said it for the rest of my life.

“The Spackle have turned terrorist, Todd,” the Mayor says, tho I ain’t much listening. “And maybe it takes a terrorist to fight a terrorist.”

And then we both hear it. Over the chaos in the square, there’s another ROAR, a whole different kind of roar in a world that seems to be made outta roaring.

We look east, up over the ruins of the cathedral, past the rickety brick bell tower, still standing, still looking like it shouldn’t.