The Toll (Arc of a Scythe #3) - Neal Shusterman Page 0,178
are?”
“Are you kidding me? I’m about two seconds from pissing myself I’m so scared.”
And from her other side she heard “So am I,” and then someone else called out “Same here.”
Loriana looked at Morrison, forcing a smile. “You see?” she said. “We’re all scared out of our fucking minds!”
Morrison smiled back at her. “I’m Jim,” he said, but hesitated. “No. No—actually my name is Joel.”
But before she could say another thing, the engines ignited, they lifted off, and the rattle and roar overwhelmed them. So Loriana reached out her hand and grabbed his, if only to stop both their hands from shaking.
* * *
Rowan and Citra had just climbed out of the truck when the first ship blew. There were at least a dozen people hurrying to one of two gantry elevators beside their chosen ship when it happened, and they saw the attacking plane fly overhead. Dark blue and speckled with stars. Goddard had come for them. He had come for all of them.
“We have to hurry,” Rowan said.
“It’s not like I’m not stopping to sightsee,” Citra told him.
The first gantry elevator was already on its way up, but the other one was open and waiting for them. They were still about fifty yards away when the second ship blew—this one even more violently than the first, sending shrapnel surging in all directions.
“Don’t look,” Citra yelled. “Just run!”
But Rowan looked. And what he saw burned in his mind with such cauterizing permanence, it would haunt him forever. A huge hunk of flaming metal was heading in their direction. Before he could even call out, it slammed into the ground, taking out half a dozen people to their right—and other, smaller pieces were striking the ground around them like meteorites. Citra was running at full speed; she was twenty yards from the gantry now. Rowan tried to catch up with her. He tried. He saw what was about to happen—saw the trajectory of the flaming shrapnel—and he dove for her.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
He just wasn’t fast enough.
* * *
Goddard had always been partial to close-range gleaning, but as he watched those missiles launch and those two ships detonate—with merely the lightest press of his finger on a button—he realized he could grow accustomed to this. What must it have been like to be mortal? To be in a craft designed for killing, and to truly believe your life and the lives of everyone you loved hinged upon whether or not you pressed that little button. Kill or be killed: the mortal way. It did have a quaint but visceral appeal!
“This is extraordinary!” said Mendoza. “How could we not know this was happening?”
Before them even more ships were launching—a dozen at least—like it was some sort of carnival game. Take them all down, win the biggest prize. The only question was which one to take down next?
* * *
Rowan tried to stanch the flow of blood from Citra’s wound, but it was no use; it was just too big. A chunk of flaming metal the size of a baseball had punched a hole in her side and had gone straight through. He knew there was nothing he could do for her. Not now. Not in this terrible instant. But there would be a way to rectify this. If only he could get her to that ship.
She looked up at him, tried to mouth words, but he couldn’t tell what she was trying to say.
“Shhh,” he told her. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
He lifted her up and carried her to the gantry elevator, which rose up the side of the ship far too slowly, while up above Goddard’s plane came around, looking for its next target.
* * *
Another wave of ships launched. There were so many for Goddard to choose from now—but if he was quick enough, there was still a chance to bring plenty of them down. Then something below caught his eye. A ship on their left, still on its pad. Of course it was hard to see—but there were figures on a catwalk between the gantry to the open hatch of that ship. Was it his imagination, or was that a flash of turquoise there, waving at him like a flag? Yes! Yes, it was! Someone was carrying a figure in turquoise across the catwalk toward that hatch. And what a particular color it was! Oh, how the universe could reward you!
“There!” he told the pilot. “Forget the others! This is the one I want!”