United as One (Lorien Legacies #7)(78)

“Let’s get this done,” John says briskly.

We break up into teams of two to make the deliveries. Nine and Marina. Me and Sam. Since no one wants to pair up with Five and no one wants to be left behind with him, John agrees to go with him. The rest of our group stays behind. Adam and Rex take Malcolm onto the warship to show him some of the controls, hoping that he can help pilot the massive thing when our attack on West Virginia comes.

“Ready?” Sam asks.

“Ready,” I reply, and, holding hands, the backpack of cloaking devices slung over Sam’s shoulder, we touch the Loralite stone and focus on a mental image that Ella telepathically sends to us.

A warm glow of energy washes over us, and a second later we’re both shielding our eyes. It’s early morning in South Africa, and we’re standing on the summit of Lion’s Head mountain. There are man-made cobbles set up here that intersect with manicured gardens—a place for tourists to take pictures. The Loralite stone juts up from right beneath them, cracking the cobbles and displacing the plants. The view here is breathtaking and dizzying. We’re level with the clouds. If I turn to my left, I see crystal-blue ocean, the sun streaking golden across the waves. If I turn to my right, I see the crowded white buildings of Cape Town.

The scene would be peaceful if not for the helicopter idling just a few yards away. Its rotors make a steady whup-whup-whup, trampling over the quiet morning. There’s a group of camouflaged soldiers standing watch nearby. When we appear from thin air, a few of them jump, and a couple point their assault rifles in our direction. Most of them are completely unperturbed. I guess you get used to crazy things happening during an alien invasion.

Two of the soldiers jog over to us and grab the backpack from Sam. They don’t say anything to us, and we don’t say anything to them. Soon they’ve all piled into the helicopter and are off to bring down the nearest warship. Johannesburg, I think.

“I mean, a thank-you would’ve been nice,” Sam complains.

I shrug it off and turn to take in the view. It’s beautiful enough to make me forget, for all of five seconds, just what we’re doing here and the daunting odds we’re up against.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to see the world,” I say.

“You mean in a context when you’re not running for your life or fighting an alien warlord.”

“Yeah,” I say with a sly smile. “I believe you earthlings refer to them as vacations.”

Sam sidles up next to me, and together we gaze out at the ocean.

“Maybe when . . .” He starts to say something, then trails off.

I look over at him. “Maybe when . . . ?”

Sam’s eyes search for his sneakers. “I was going to say that maybe when this is over we could take one of those vacations. I shouldn’t talk like that. Making plans. I mean, with everything that’s happened. Eight, Sarah, Mark . . .” Sam shakes his head. “I still can’t believe it, you know? Can’t even wrap my head around it. These people I grew up with, that I’ve known my entire life. Jeez, the entire world. It’s all turned upside down. We’re probably going to die in a few hours. And I’m thinking about vacations. It feels wrong.”

I run my hand up the back of Sam’s neck, tangle my fingers in his hair and give it a yank. “Nobody’s dying, Sam.”

“Ow. Everybody’s dying, Six. I mean . . . like, everywhere.”

“We’re going to make it,” I say, pulling his face close. “And if you think you’re about to die, Sam, I want you to remember this moment. Remember that we’re fighting for this, for the future. Our future.”

Sam breathes in deeply. “Okay. Okay, you’re right.” He glances over his shoulder at the glowing Loralite stone waiting to take us back to Niagara Falls and then on to our next delivery. “We should get going.”

I tilt my head back and take a deep breath of air—crisp and cool at this height, with just a little tang of ocean.

“One minute,” I say, interlocking my fingers with his. “One minute to look at the world.”

And so we stand there for one minute. Take it all in.

We do the same thing when we teleport into the rolling sands of the Sahara, the air dry and blistering, the outcropping of Loralite like a glowing oasis.

And again when we reach Mount Zao in Japan, the Loralite stone there next to a volcanic crater lake that glows brighter than even the stone. Snow blows across our faces, and we actually laugh. The Japanese soldiers pick up the equipment and look at us like we must be crazy, like we’re wasting time.

We can spare a few minutes.

We stop in Portugal. We stop in the Australian outback. One extra minute spent in each place, one minute that serves no purpose other than to see. A five-minute vacation.

Soon enough it’s over. The deliveries are done. We’re back in Niagara Falls, it’s the middle of the night and we’ve only got one final destination. West Virginia.

Sam and I share one last smile and then we take our positions. We get ready to do what needs to be done.

By dawn, one way or another, all this will be over.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


OUR WARSHIP SOARS TOWARDS WEST VIRGINIA. The night slides by through the vast windows of the Mogadorian bridge. Stars wink overhead while down below, streetlights and houses are lit up, this part of the northeastern United States as yet untouched by the invasion. I wonder if anyone down there happens to look up and see our massive, scarab-shaped vessel. Or are we just another dark cloud passing across the night sky?