Game Over - By James Patterson Page 0,48

conditions required to initiate the reaction.

And now it was time to stop visualizing and begin creating. I materialized a handful of the two principal reactants in Kildare’s formula—one came out as a yellow powder, the other a greenish liquid—and quickly cast them down into the wave that just then was breaking at my feet.

What happened next wasn’t magic; it was pure, hard-core science. But the results were so dramatic that I imagine the world’s greatest magicians would have paid to see it themselves.

A scream like a billion wailing mice went up, and the two-headed Godzilla in front of me began to sway back and forth. Its screams became louder as it lunged for me, but instead of a giant hand swiping at me, there was nothing there.

Because the creature’s body was melting away. Dissolving into tiny black globs of decomposing alien, which were now beginning to rain down on the beach.

“Get him! GET HIM!” the voices screeched, but its body was breaking down too quickly. “We are indestructible! This is IMPOSSIBLE!”

I jumped back as the now limbless torso began pitching forward and landed in a heap at my feet. I held my ground and watched as the entire beach became covered in a black slick of alien protoplasm.

You see, salt water plus 1.9 pounds of the compound created by Kildare’s formulas result in a self-sustaining reaction that produces a gas which basically interrupts the communications between all the “cells” in the bodies of Number 7 and Number 8’s species.

In other words, I’d created a kind of nerve gas that destroyed the bonds between the tiny pieces of Number 7 and Number 8. They literally fell apart in front of my eyes.

“That’s for Kildare, you scum,” I shouted.

But I felt no joy from having destroyed my nemeses. Instead, as I wiped the oily stuff from my eyes and ran out into the polluted water, all I felt was loss and horror at what I’d done. I dove again and again into the waves—flailing around, searching frantically.

This was not part of the plan. After all, it was his formula I’d followed. Kildare was supposed to be here.

Kildare was supposed to live.

Chapter 63

EXHAUSTED AND EYES stinging from tears, salt water, and alien goo, I crawled back up the beach and buried my face in the crook of my arm. In the distance, I heard the approaching thump-thump-thump of a helicopter. I should have gotten up and left the scene. No sense in me trying to explain to the Japanese coast guard what had happened. The surfers could handle that.

I thought I’d seen something in the chemical reaction, a way Kildare could have fortified his own cells to be resistant. But he’d clearly succumbed right along with his parents. There was no sign of him anywhere. He either hadn’t had time, or he hadn’t been willing, to save himself.

The thought of Kildare’s loss being a noble sacrifice was too bitter a consolation to swallow. Of course, Number 7 and Number 8 had to be stopped. But how much hope and potential—and how good a friend—had I just destroyed?

I’d never felt so weary and uncertain as I did right then. What was the point of ridding the world of bad aliens if it meant I was killing the good guys, too?

“Gross, huh?”

I recognized the reedy voice immediately.

“Kildare!”

“Sorry about that—” he said as I leaped to my feet and rubbed my teary eyes. “Took me a minute to recoalesce.”

What I did next I know I probably shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it: I grabbed him in the best bear hug I could manage. And he hugged me back.

“Kildare—”

“I know, Daniel,” he said. We let go and awkwardly stepped away from each other. “You did it. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I said. “What you did was so brave—”

He shook his head. “It had to be done. Just like now you have to take out Number 1.”

“I’ve been thinking, Kildare. With your smarts and your abilities, what would you say about joining me? With your help, we could finish off the rest of the aliens on the List. I’ll introduce you to Dana, Willy, Joe, Emma, my parents, Pork Chop…. You could be part of our group. My family.”

He was smiling sadly and shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? You need to finish school or something?” I laughed.

“I resisted the reaction, but I… I can’t go on.”

“What? You’re here. You’re alive. Your parents aren’t coming back.”

“I’m