Game Over - By James Patterson Page 0,49
too young to go on by myself, Daniel. My parents were still feeding me. It’s how we develop. Until we achieve full maturity, we can’t subsist on our own. We need mature colonies to sustain us.”
“But there must be others besides your parents—”
“The irony is that even though my parents hunted other species to extinction, we were the last three of our kind.”
“But on your home planet, surely—”
“My parents consumed them all. We were the last.”
“But you came up with that formula. There must be something we can do with your chemistry and my powers that would work…”
He shook his head. “Keep up the good work, Daniel. And please say good-bye to Professor Kuniyoshi for me. He was a good teacher.”
“Kildare, this can’t be happening—”
But it was too late. He was already starting to flicker in and out. “Kildare! You’re the only true friend I have—the only one who knows what it’s like to be alone. Tell me what to do!”
“You know what to do, Daniel,” he said, starting to slump. “Finish what you started. Save this planet. You’re the Alien Hunter. And remember—you were my only true friend too.”
Then he collapsed into a black slick at my feet.
I don’t know how long I cried—my heart was breaking. I hadn’t lost someone I cared about in ages, and all the grief came flooding back fast and furious.
But Kildare was right. I was the Alien Hunter. I had a job to do. A big one. I had to pull myself together.
After a few deep breaths, I grabbed a handful of the blackened sand, stuck it into my pocket, and ran up to the dunes above the beach.
Chapter 64
BACK AT THE Fujiya Hotel, the gang—Mom, Dad, Pork Chop, Dana, Emma, Willy, Joe, and the Murkamis—did their best to comfort me, and they did manage to lift my spirits a degree or two. I attribute most of it to watching Joe chow down on the eleven-course meal he’d ordered from room service. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I didn’t have trouble diverting funds from GC’s corporate holdings into my credit card account, or I’d have been faced with doing a couple years’ worth of dishes when the room bill came due.
My family had put up holograms of my friends and Alpar Nokian relatives, including my grandmother, Blaleen; Chordata the elephant; Uncle Kraffleprog; and my cousin Lylah. But, unlike the Gathering Day party, the mood was respectfully subdued.
Dana was the first one to take me aside. She led me out to the balcony.
“Promise me Number 1’s not out there this time,” I said.
“I can’t speak for your imagination, but we just did a sweep of the hotel grounds. It’s safe.”
It was a beautiful day up in the mountains. The cherry trees were still blooming, and the breeze carried the scent of the proud cedars that dominated the craggy terrain.
“You going to be okay, Daniel?” asked Dana, sliding the door closed behind us.
I nodded and rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand, vainly hoping to forestall tears.
“It’s tough losing friends, isn’t it?”
I nodded again and sucked in a big lungful of cool mountain air.
“You’re too young to have been through so much,” she said, taking my hand.
“Yeah,” I agreed, still blotting my eyes and trying to smile. “Definitely stops being character building after a while.”
“You have so much strength, Daniel. Nothing will ever stop the pain of a loss like that, but you will keep getting stronger. And you will keep saving lives—good lives of good people, like Kildare. You know that, don’t you?”
I shrugged.
“Remember, we’re still just teenagers. We have most of our lives ahead of us. And that’s a lot.”
The door slid open behind me, and Dana let go of my hand.
“Come on inside, you two,” said Mom. “The Murkamis are leaving, and we need to say good-bye.”
Chapter 65
THEY SAY AFTER a great tragedy, the only thing to do…
I woke up in the middle of the night and pulled out my List computer. I went right to the top—to Number 1’s entry: The Prayer.
Oh, how I was going to take him down. Oh, how I was going to make him pay for everything he’d done to me. I was done losing friends. I was done losing family. I was done waking up in the middle of the night worrying about my life and the lives of the people and creatures I loved.
They said I wasn’t ready for Number 7 and Number 8, and they were wrong. I’d taken them