The Last Star (The 5th Wave, #3)(10)

Holy shit. I looked at Ben, he looked back at me, and then we both looked at Evan.

“When you say ‘destroyed’ . . . ?” I started.

“Blown up,” Evan said. “It’s the last step before the launch of the 5th Wave.”

Ben was slowly shaking his head at him, horrified, disgusted, enraged. “Why?”

“To make it easier to finish the cleansing. And to wipe out anything human that remains.”

“But why now?” Ben asked.

“The Silencers will be back on board the ship—it’s safe. For us, I mean. Safe for us.”

I looked away. I was going to be sick. I should know better by now. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it gets worse.





8


ZOMBIE

I MOTION DUMBO out of the room. Let Sullivan say what she wants—he’ll always be Nugget to me. The kid starts to follow me and Dumbo into the hall and I order him to fall back. I close the door and turn to Dumbo. “Grab your gear. We’re moving out.”

Dumbo’s eyes go wide. “When?”

“Right now.”

He swallows hard and glances down the hallway toward the family room. “Just me and you, Sarge?”

I know what he’s worried about. “I’m good, Bo.” Touching the spot where Ringer placed the bullet. “Not 100 percent, more like 86.5, but good enough.”

Pain knifes into my side when I reached up to pull my rucksack from the closet shelf. Okay, take off a point and a half, make it 85, still closer to 100 than to zero. Anyway, who’s 100 percent this late in the game? Even the good evil alien broke his ankle.

I rummage through the sack, though there’s not a hell of a lot to rummage through. I’ll need to grab some fresh water and rations from the kitchen, and a knife might come in handy. I dig into the outer pocket. Empty. What the hell? I know I put it there. What happened to it?

I’m kneeling on the bedroom floor, tearing through my stuff for the third time, when Dumbo comes in.

“Sarge?”

“It was here. It was right here.” I look up at him and something about my expression makes him flinch. “Somebody must have taken it. Jesus Christ, who the hell would have taken it, Dumbo?”

“Taken what?”

I rock back onto my heels and pat my pockets. Shit. There it is, right where I put it. My sister’s necklace, the one that tore off in my hand on the night I left her to die.

“Okay, we’re good.” I push myself to my feet, grab the rucksack from the floor and the rifle from the bed. Dumbo’s watching me carefully, but I hardly notice. The kid’s been mother-henning me for months now.

“I thought we were leaving tomorrow night,” he says.

“If they aren’t between here and the hotel, or where the hotel used to be, we’ll have to cut through Urbana—twice,” I tell him. “And I don’t want to be anywhere near Urbana when the bastards go all Dubuque on it.”

“Dubuque?” The color drains out of his face. Oh God, Dubuque again!

I drop the rucksack over one shoulder and the rifle over the other. “Buzz Lightyear just told us they’re blowing up the cities.”

That takes a second to sink in. “Which cities?”

“All of them.”

His jaw drops. He trails me into the hallway, then around the corner and into the kitchen. Bottled water, some unopened packages of beef jerky, crackers, a handful of protein bars. I divide the supplies between us. Got to be quick before Nugget’s radar goes off and he barrels out of that room to Velcro himself onto my leg.

“All of them?” Dumbo asks. He frowns. “But Ringer said they weren’t going to blow up the cities.”

“Well, she was wrong. Or Walker’s lying. Some bullshit about having to wait until the Silencers were extracted. You know what I’ve decided, Private? I’m not wasting any more time worrying about all the things I don’t know.”

He shakes his head. He still can’t wrap his mind around it. “Every city on Earth?”

“Down to the last shitty one-traffic-light town.”

“How?”

“The mothership. In four days, one big swing around the planet, dropping the bombs as she goes. Unless Walker can blow up the ship before it happens, and I don’t put a lot of faith in that.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t put a lot of faith in Walker.”

“I still don’t get it, Zombie. Why’d they wait till now to start dropping bombs?”

Every part of him is shaking, including his voice. He’s losing it. I put my hands on his shoulders and force him to look at me. “I told you. They’re pulling out the Silencers. Sending down pods for every last infested one of them, except for handlers like Vosch. Once they’ve been evac’ed and the cities are gone, there’s no place for survivors to hide, making it a turkey shoot for the poor bastards they brainwashed into finishing the job: the 5th Wave. Get it?”

He wags his head from side to side. “It don’t matter. I go where you go, Sarge.”

A shadow moves behind him. A damned Nugget-shaped shadow. I took too long.

“Zombie?”

“Okay.” I sigh. “Dumbo, give us a second.”