Light (Gone, #6)

by Michael Grant

But then had come the voice that said, Come on, you little freak, wherever the hell you are, whatever the hell you are, let’s get this done with. Pete had seen the scars on him, the fresh marks of the gaiaphage. You and me. Blaze of glory, Little Pete. Blaze of glory. Pete didn’t know what a blaze of glory was, but it sounded good. Now, Little Pete. Right now. The Darkness was wrong. It was not time for Peter Ellison to fade away. It was time to hit back.

“It’s over, Sam. Finally.” “Yeah,” he said. “I guess it is.” “Turn out the light, Sam.” Sam reached for the switch and turned out the light.