Light (Gone, #6)

by Michael Grant

Diana knew things had gone badly as soon as she saw Caine walking into town behind Edilio with his head down. She was running to him before she could stop herself. Like a fool, like a stupid tween rushing some pop star. Right across the plaza. But even when she was standing right in front of him, right where he couldn’t fail to at least see her legs, he wouldn’t look up. She reached to touch him on the arm, hesitated, did it anyway. “Caine.”

Astrid pulled and Sam thrashed and Lana yelled at Astrid for loosening her grip so Astrid tightened her grip and pulled hard and Sam opened his eyes and yelled and flailed with his hands so Sanjit ran over and grabbed his hands, fast, because Sam’s hands could be very dangerous, and Quinn came around to help Astrid pull.

“Yeah. You should go,” Lana agreed. “And then you better figure out which is worse, smart girl: That we give someone up as a living sacrifice to Little Pete. Or the other thing.” Lana was smirking now, angry and challenging. Astrid didn’t want to ask, because she knew the answer. But she couldn’t not ask. “What other thing, Lana?” “The thing where we kill Sam, and Caine, too, if we can find him, to disarm the gaiaphage.” Astrid stood stock-still. Lana laughed her cynical laugh. “Yeah, you’re the genius, but that doesn’t make me an idiot.”

But she was a beautiful girl now, almost his own age by all appearances. As beautiful as Diana had been before starvation took its toll. As beautiful as Astrid and just as smug and arrogant. It confused him. Because he instinctively wanted to hurt her. Fantasy images came to his mind and shocked him. She would kill him if she knew.

“Yes. In triumph. The conquering hero,” he said. “King Caine. I was just remembering that.” “With that monster in my belly,” Diana said. “Not your fault,” he said tersely. “Not mine, either.” “I wonder.” “We had . . . Listen, we made love, right? Isn’t that what we’re calling it? No one warned us we were conceiving a body for the gaiaphage.” “Did we make love?” Diana asked him. “Jesus, Diana,” he pleaded. “Tell me, Caine. Did we make love or did we just have sex? It’s a simple question.” “No, it isn’t,” Caine said. He heard Diana’s sardonic laugh, and at that instant he knew the answer to her question. He heard that snarky, almost cruel laugh and he knew, and it filled him so suddenly full of emotion that he almost cried out. “No, it’s not an easy question between us,” Diana admitted. Then: “Did we make love, Caine?” “Okay. Okay, yes, Diana, we made love.” “Say it to me, Caine,” she said. “What’s the point?” he pleaded. “I’m running away. I’m saving myself and leaving you behind. I’m a rat deserting the sinking ship. I’m a coward holding on to his pathetic life for an extra hour or two. I’m scared to death; I can’t stand up to it anymore. I’m done. Why do you want me to say it?” She didn’t answer. She had bathed him when he was lost in madness, had spoon-fed him, had been there each time he woke to rave, to rave about the hunger in the dark. She had backed him in all his wild plans. She had stood by him, despite, oh man, despite so much. So much. He couldn’t see her face, ...

Why had she forced him to admit his feelings? Women. Didn’t they know that emotions were meant to be suppressed? “Love sucks,” Caine muttered. Diana nuzzled against him, her lips on his neck, sending chills all through his body. A line of night-blue between separated curtains became a line of gray. Dawn, and time to go. He slid carefully, silently, out of the bed. Where were his clothes? He’d left them right here, right on the floor, knowing he would have to dress silently to escape undiscovered. “I hid them,” Diana said. He turned to face her. “And why would you do that?” “So you couldn’t sneak away. Really, Caine: how long have I known you? Also . . .” “Uh-huh?” “Also I like you like this.” He swallowed hard, feeling strangely vulnerable and a little silly. “You said we couldn’t . . .” “Mmmm. True. But I still like looking at you. It’s a good thing you’re so rotten,” she said with a long sigh. “Scares off most girls. I never would have had a chance with you if you’d been a decent human being.” “I wasn’t running away,” he said. “I know. I know what you were doing, Caine. And thanks for the thought. But I want to be there to see the end. I want to see you stop her.” “Yeah,” he said, straining to put some slight shred of optimism into the word. “If you’re coming, then we have to go.” “Or the reverse of that . . . We have a few minutes,” she said. “Come here. It won’t take more than a few minutes.”

She waited until he had absorbed all of that before telling him the last fact. “Sam. Brianna is dead.” He just stared at her. Then, in a soft, almost childlike voice, he said, “Breeze?” “She stopped Gaia. It looked like Brianna almost killed her. The second time she . . . But this time . . .” There were tears in Sam’s eyes. “My God. How is Dekka?” “Like you’d expect. Destroyed. Roger’s dead, too, so Edilio . . . It’s been really bad, Sam. Really bad. It’s like we’re in a war.” “We are,” he said. “I don’t understand why Gaia didn’t kill me.” Astrid said nothing. Lana came over then, so Sam didn’t notice Astrid’s silence. “How do you feel, Sam?” “Better than I should,” he said. Then: “I know you did all you could for Breeze.” Lana shook her head. “I never had the chance to. The gaiaphage hit her point-blank through the heart with your light. Burned a hole six inches across. That’s not something I can heal.” “What do you mean, my light?” Sam asked. Astrid shot a dirty look at Lana, but it was too late. Sam wasn’t going to be put off. “You need to tell him,” Lana said. Her voice wasn’t unkind, but it was uncompromising. Astrid said, “It seems Gaia has some connection to your power. There’s a . . . I don’t know what to call it . . . no one knows what to call it, because it doesn’t exist in the world out there . . .” She was stalling. He saw it. So Astrid said, “Diana says Gaia let you and Caine live because if you die you take the power with you.” Sam’s face turned to stone, co...

When she came back down, Sam and Astrid had arrived. Sam hugged Dekka, and the two of them stayed that way for a long time, saying nothing. Both had loved Brianna. To Edilio, Sam said, “I’m so sorry, man. I wish I’d . . . You know what I wish.” Edilio fought back a fresh rush of tears, nodded, waited until he was sure he could speak, and said, “I’m glad you’re back, boss.” He pivoted to Dekka. “What did you see?”

“Well,” Sam said. “At least we know that would have worked had it been necessary.” “Too bad it wasn’t Drake himself,” Dekka said. “But my little Brianna did him in. Yeah. Breeze took down Drake and saved our butts, twice. Oh, man. I thought I was cried out.” “Dekka,” Sam said, putting his arms around her, “we will never be cried out.”

“This body keeps me alive. This body allows me to concentrate my strength. But this body is weak. I had not realized how weak. It makes its own demands. It needs food. It excretes. It hurts.” Gaia shook her long black hair. “It bothers me.” “You look like her, you know. Like Diana. The way she looked before. Back when she thought she was hot.” Gaia frowned. “Yeah,” Drake said. “Yeah. You look hot and nasty. Like her.” He knew immediately that he had gone too far, said too much. Gaia’s blue eyes were like lasers. “You want to hurt me,” she whispered. Drake shook his head violently. “No. No, that’s not what I—” “You. Want. To hurt this body.” “Not you,” Drake said, desperately. “Not the real you.” “You think you know the real me?” Drake shook his head again. He didn’t want to go any deeper into this. He just wanted to feel the satisfying slap of his whip hand on flesh. That was all. He just wanted to hear the cries of pain and terror. He wanted to find that blond witch, that smug so-called genius, and watch her fear grow, watch her— “It comes closer, the fire. In the smoke . . . that’s when we attack.” Gaia looked off toward the wall of smoke in the north. “I thought you were worried about Nemesis.” “I worry about nothing,” Gaia said, but there was impatience in the toss of her head, worry in her eyes. “He has a sister. Someone he cares about. Your Nemesis. Her name is Astrid. She could be a hostage. She could give us leverage over the Petard.” Gaia’s eyes widened. “A loved ...

ignoramus.

He had seen the pleasure his stepfather had taken in beating Drake’s mother. And his mother must have almost enjoyed it, too, right? She kept doing things that pissed her husband off. Like she expected it. Like she wanted it.

“Listen, Edilio, if she gets past me, she won’t have the light anymore,” Sam said. “You understand? But she will still be very dangerous. When I’ve fought Caine, the worst thing wasn’t him dropping stuff down, because you see the arc of it going up then coming down, right? Him throwing stuff horizontally: that was worse because it was faster. Look out for that when . . . if . . . she gets here.” Edilio put out his hand and Sam took it. “It’s been interesting, hasn’t it?” Sam said, trying for a smile. “It’s been a great honor to stand with you,” Edilio said. “Tell her I’m sorry I broke my promise,” Sam said, so softly Edilio almost didn’t hear. “Tell her I love her.”

“Never worry, Sam Temple: Drake will get her.” But Gaia chewed at her thumbnail, a very Caine gesture Sam had seen before.

“Give me a hand,” Diana said. She held her hand up to him. He looked down at her. “I don’t think so, Diana.” “What do you mean?” she asked. He raised one hand and pushed the boat gently away from the dock. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “Going out in style,” he said. “Caine. Caine. What are you doing?” “There’s no good reason for both of us to die.” “Caine, you’re being silly,” she said as firmly as she could. “You know this is the end. I want to be with you. I don’t want our monster child hunting me down and finding me at the end all alone.” He shrugged. “I know you asked Little Pete to take you. I know you offered yourself up.” “How? How did you know?” He shrugged. “But he didn’t,” Diana said. “He didn’t, which—” “Yeah. Well. He had a better offer.” “What?” The word came out as a sob. “Caine . . . No. No. We do this together.” “Nah, I don’t think so,” he said with strained nonchalance. “I think it will be like it is with Gaia. I think when Little Pete does his thing, well, I don’t think I’ll be around then. So I don’t see how we do this together.” “Don’t, Caine. Don’t you do this,” Diana pleaded. “You have to understand, Diana: I’m not trying to be noble. It’s just the only way I have to beat it. The gaiaphage. It thinks it has me. It thinks it owns me. It thinks it cracks the whip and I have no choice but to obey. And the pain . . .” He shrugged again. “So. So, we want old green-and-evil to be surprised when it finds out, right?” “Caine, this is not what we . . . N...

Suddenly Jack was beside him. He lifted Sam in his arms and ran. It was a bullet that caused Jack to fall. One misdirected bullet hit him in the lower back. His legs went out from under him. He dropped Sam, then fell atop him. “Jack!” “I’m okay. It’s just . . . my legs. I can’t move my legs.” Sam saw fear in Jack’s eyes. Jack, who had never wanted the power he was given. Jack who had never wanted anything but to play with his computers. “Oh, man,” Jack said. He seemed to pass out for a moment, but then rallied. “Let me get you out . . . ,” he said, and blood was in his mouth now, cutting off speech. Jack, Computer Jack, as he had long been known, gripped the chains around Sam and pulled with all of his incredible strength. He coughed blood onto Sam’s chest. A single link in the chain snapped. And Jack was gone.

Orc hit Gaia like a truck. She flew.

She could see in the distance fire eating at the edge of Perdido Beach. She tasted the smoke. “Not much point quitting if the air’s going to be one big cigarette,” she muttered.

Charles Merriman, long known as Orc, tried to rise, and instead fell dead.

“Damn,” Caine breathed. “That is one tough monster Diana and I made.”

A girl he didn’t know had called to him. Take me. I deserve to die. 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.

You’re giving me a good memory to go out on, aren’t you, Pete? Well, good choice, Caine thought. Huh. I can’t feel my body, Caine thought. Huh. I . . .

Gaia still stood. She still lived. A million years in the blackness of space. Fourteen years in a hole in the ground, growing, mutating, becoming the gaiaphage. Not dead yet. The body it inhabited was beyond agony, but the gaiaphage lived, and it could still kill. And there before her was Caine, somehow smiling. Not a cynical smirk: a genuine, happy smile. And there, rushing up the road, Diana yelling, “No, Caine. No!” Even Sam, still alive, excellent: her powers would be undiminished. “Hello, Darkness,” Caine said. Gaia’s face fell. Her bloody, feral grin faded to be replaced by lips drawn tight in fear. Her killer blue eyes widened as she looked at Caine who was no longer Caine. “Nemesis,” Gaia said.

And now, at last, gaiaphage and Nemesis stood facing each other. “Why didn’t you just . . . fade?” Gaia demanded plaintively. “You hit me,” Nemesis said. It was a little boy’s voice coming from Caine’s mouth. “And that’s not okay.”

Their legs melted beneath them like candles. Holes appeared in their torsos. And only when they fell, each into a heap of glowing ash, did the light die. “Well,” Diana said, with tears running down her cheeks. “That was a blaze of glory.”

Sam was nearly swept along. But he held on to Astrid, held on to her and looked at her face and saw the bruises. “Who?” he demanded. “Sam, it doesn’t matter; it’s over,” Astrid shouted to be heard above the roar of wind and fire. “Who?” he demanded again. “Drake. He wasn’t dead. He may still not be dead. But Sam, there are police now, and—” But Sam had broken free. He walked into the swirling smoke.

Atonement,

He had left a note on his bed. The note said, Poof! He hoped the police guards would find it funny.

Diana’s letter was much shorter. Just four lines. Diana: I’m sorry for hurting you. I know I did. I’m most likely dead now, and I guess if there’s any kind of fairness in the afterlife I’m probably in hell getting roasted. But if that’s where I am, I want you to know, I still love you. Always did. Love, Caine She read the letter over and over again. Each time crying. Each time laughing.

Lana went to Las Vegas to live with her parents. They refused to let her carry a gun. She eventually got used to it. Her powers were gone. When she cut her hand while peeling carrots, she couldn’t do anything about it. This caused her to laugh for a solid five minutes, during which her parents thought she’d lost her mind.

Sam was asked to speak and adamantly refused. He was mortally sick of being referred to as the hero of the FAYZ.

“The director considered it,” Astrid said. “But it turns out I’m not quite the Astrid type. It was a somewhat surreal moment. Koyaanisqatsi.” That earned her a collective sigh and many rolled eyes.

Astrid sighed. “Come live with us, Diana. Don’t argue. Just say yes.” Diana looked at the ground to hide her emotions. Then she said, “Would I have to be hearing you two going at it night and day?”

“Turn out the light, Sam.” Sam reached for the switch and turned out the light.