Hellbender - Dana Cameron Page 0,84

what the fuck?” Danny’s indignation was enormous. “No.”

I spoke quickly, before I lost my nerve. “Look, at this point, I’m responsible for the death of a lot of people—Ash, Fatima, and oracles I’ve never met being the latest. That number will go up, significantly, in the next couple of days, unless I can find a foolproof plan and execute it exactly right. The chances of those two events happening are microscopically small, minute to the point of utter improbability.”

Danny looked like he was going to correct me on my logic, but shut his mouth when I held up my hand.

“It doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to say is that I feel unbelievably horrible about all of this, but on top of it all, Sean died in my arms. Danny—Dan, I mean, that’s what you’re going by now, right? Everything’s changing . . . I’m the last person who should be making these decisions. It wasn’t so long ago, a lot of people didn’t think I was capable of making decisions for my own life; you know that better than anyone—”

I choked up then, and shook my head, tears filling my eyes. “Forgive me if I tell you I don’t think I could live if I added you guys to the body count, too.”

Danny didn’t seem fazed, however. By my tears or my problems. Neither did Vee, who looked at me like I was crazy. He just shrugged. “You’re the only one who can make them, Zoe, so it’s no use pretending you can’t or you shouldn’t. It’s not something that’s going away.”

I wiped at my eyes angrily. “Yeah, thanks a pant-load.”

“You know it’s true. You just gotta take it one apocalypse at a time, Zoe.”

Apocalypse was a good word. “I just wish . . . it wasn’t me. Wasn’t now. Wasn’t near you guys.”

“Zoe, there is nowhere to run away to that will get us away from this,” Vee said. “You know that.”

“You’re right,” I said, embarrassed now. “I’m sorry, I just . . . I’m sorry.”

It was at that moment that Adam and Will walked in, and stopped when they saw I’d been crying. “Do I want to know what you all are talking about?” Adam asked.

“Almost certainly not,” I said. “Adam, Will, I would like you both to go away from me, leave me to the mishegas that is my life, and live until well in your nineties, happy and safe. Will you both do that for me?”

“Um, no,” Will said. “And never ask again, please.”

Adam shook his head. “What is this about? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Without you,” Will added, as if it was some kind of competition. The tension between them was palpable. They were cooperating, because they had to, but that was it. “Why do you ask now?”

I shook my head. “It’s just the short version of the conversation.”

That sealed it for me. If they weren’t going, I had to be the best I could possibly be, and then a whole lot better. As Geoffrey had told me, I had to act like I owned the place.

We spent the afternoon loading up truck after truck with materials from the Boston house to bring to the wharf, and from there, to be shipped to Flock Island. It was amazing what Fangborn habits combined with military procedure could effect. The place wouldn’t have permanent buildings for some time, so there’d be tents and temporary structures. There was a kind of contest between the groups working on opposite sides of the island to see who could get more done faster. The Fangborn had centuries of practice in establishing hideouts and bolt-holes; the military had almost as much time to perfect the quick establishment of a base with housing and communications.

A box full of books fell, spilling and splaying all over the street. I looked up—more thuds and crashes. The Fangborn carrying them had all gone stock-still, frozen in their tracks, their faces blank.

Their mouths opened, but nothing came out.

Suddenly I dropped the box of blankets I’d been carrying. I had to cover my ears, but it was reflex, because I heard the cries of thousands of Fangborn souls coming from within me.

When I felt a tug, I knew that I was being summoned by the Makers. I gave into the impulse to follow, as I had before with the dragons, and found myself back at the Castle.

It was like being called into the principal’s office times a hundred thousand. I remembered one or two trips home in the back

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