The Undertakers: End of the World (37 page)

“You can’t!”
the creature wailed, sounding for all the world like a disappointed child.
“It’ll ruin everything!”

“She won,” Tom repeated, once again brandishing the javelin. “Say it. Say it loud.”

“No!”

He drew back his arm, ready for the killing thrust.

“The human won
bavarak
!”
Ex-Future Queen exclaimed, her terror-stricken voice filling the arena.
“She and her people are free to leave!”

Tom nodded, apparently satisfied. Then he lowered the javelin and took a step back.

So I came forward and drove Vader straight into the monster’s eye.

A wail of agony rose from Most Despised Daughter
.
All ten of her legs stiffened and twitched.

Then, she shuddered.

And died.

“Will!” Helene cried. “What did you just do?”

I pulled out the sword and looked at her. Except it wasn’t
this
“her” that I was seeing. Instead, I was seeing the other “her,” the older “her.” Helene Ritter had grabbed this very same
Malum
from behind and had begged me to make sure that its horror would never destroy the world. Then, in an act of courage that would haunt me for the rest of my days, she’d taken both of their lives to save mine.

I heard myself answer in a voice that sounded as dead as the deadest Corpse, “I changed the future.”

Tom came up beside me and rested his free hand on my shoulder. “I get that, bro. I totally get that. I just hope
they
do.”

He motioned at the multitude of monsters filling the arena, all of them so still and quiet that I’d nearly forgotten they were there.

“One way to find out,” I said.

He nodded. Then he handed the javelin to Helene and went to his sister, kneeling beside her.

“I’m cool,” Sharyn told him with a groan.

“No, you ain’t cool,” Tom replied. “You’re friggin’
amazing
!”

She grinned, despite the pain she was in. “Queen nailed me there at end. Should’ve figured she’d cheat.”

“Yep.”

She tried to sit up, cried out, and fell back down again. “Think my right arm’s broke, bro,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Straight up.” He touched her face very tenderly. “Now, you gonna let me put you on your feet, or are you too high on victory to need help from a lowly spectator like me?”

At that, Sharyn laughed her musical laugh. “Think I’ll take the help … just this once.”

Tom nodded and, very carefully, he took his sister’s good arm and got her standing. For a moment, just a moment, the girl teetered a little. But then she straightened, stepped away from her brother, and reached her hand out to Helene.

Helene gave her Fore.

She raised it into the air in triumph.

The arena erupted in noise, that same teeth-on-edge sound that I’d heard earlier. Only now, for some reason, it didn’t seem as bad.

Guess it’s different when they’re cheering for
you
.

As the
Malum
looked on, we started walking toward the nearest wall of the arena—maybe fifty feet ahead. Around us, nothing moved. As we got close, I started worrying. The tiny creatures making up the twenty-foot wall would need to open for us. If they didn’t, I had no idea if the javelin, as powerful as it clearly was, would be enough to get us through.

But they
did
open, several dozen Builders skittering away, clearing a path through the wall and into the empty expanse of their Void.

The four of us slipped through the gap, leaving the arena and all that death behind us.

Hard Choices

Tom tore a strip off his shirt and made a sling for Sharyn’s arm.

It needed splinting, but we didn’t really have anything on us that would work, so this would have to do. Sharyn insisted it was okay, that it didn’t hurt too bad.

But we all knew she was lying.

Finding our way back wasn’t as hard as we’d thought. Turns out the Eternity Stone was bright enough to be seen from a long distance. So we just followed its light. And as we did, we noticed that we weren’t alone.
Malum
were keeping pace with us. Not in a menacing way, but more with a kind of awestruck curiosity. Some of them were normal, Warriors or some other similar caste.

Others were Builders, who looked even smaller when they were singular and not part of an architectural mob.

“Will you destroy the stone?”
one of them asked.

I realized it must be Little Bob.

“Gonna try,” I replied.

“When you do, the Ether will close.”

“We know,” Helene said.

“If you’re still here when that happens, you will die.”

“We know that, too,” Sharyn said.

“Will you die for the good of your people?”
Little Bob asked.

“If we have to,” I said.

“That’s very
Malum
.”

It was—and still is—the weirdest compliment I’ve ever received.

Tom, I noticed, didn’t say a word throughout the entire exchange.

“What’ll happen here?” I asked. “To
your
world, if the crystal’s trashed.”

Little Bob considered this.
“The Ether will close for us as well. This great Void will cease to exist. Those of us who take refuge in our nests
…
the ancient warrens that we built ourselves below this place
…
will be safe. But any who stay to watch will be entombed.”

“Then maybe you and these others should get gone,” I said.

“I do not fear death,”
the creature replied.

“That’s selfish,” said Tom.

“What?” I asked.

“What?”
asked Little Bob.

“Your kind ain’t too common among the
Malum
,” Tom replied. “The Fifth Column sees things different than the rest. They
get
the value of life in other places, on other worlds. Your Royals don’t.”

“Quite so,”
said Little Bob.

“Then it seems to me you got a responsibility to keep on living, to help spread your way of thinking, to help educate the rest.”

The creature keeping pace with us seemed to consider that. While he did, we just kept walking.

Finally, he said,
“I thank you
…
Undertakers.”

Without another word, he turned and disappeared down one of the many holes that dotted the Ethereal landscape, getting safely away from us, away from the Eternity Stone, away from dying.

I wondered if
I’d
ever get away from dying.

“Nice job, bro,” Sharyn remarked weakly, leaning on the javelin, using it like a staff.

Tom shrugged and kept walking.

Maybe a half-hour later, we got there.

We spotted the Eternity Stone first, its whitish glow taking on shape and detail, until its massive jagged form clarified. It hovered just where we’d left it, high above the Ether, big and mysterious and terrible. Behind it, we saw the Sea of Ripples, as I’d come to think of it, and the “landing,” at which the Energy Ferry still hovered, some fifty yards away.

I’d expected Tom to lead us straight to the Eternity Stone. But he didn’t. Instead, we followed him past the crystal and to the edge of the
Malum
homeworld. There, he stopped and faced the three of us, with the glowing rectangle of light that was our only ticket home just behind him.

“What now?” his sister asked.

“Now, I throw the javelin,” he said.

“I can do it left-handed,” Sharyn insisted.

“No, you can’t,” he told her. “Besides, you’ve done enough. You’re the hero. I’m just cleaning up this last bit.”

“Not without me,” she said, her eyes hard as granite.

“I love you,” he said.

The words seemed to surprise her. “I love you too, bro. But that don’t mean I’m gonna just—”

Then Tom punched her.

We call it a chin tap. You bring your fist up under a person’s chin just hard enough to snap their head back. This pinches a nerve at the base of the skull and knocks the person out cold, but doesn’t do any permanent damage. The chief got me with one once, back in a training room called First Stop, a long time ago.

To Sharyn’s credit, she saw the blow coming and instantly tried to block. But she was tired, and hurt, and—in this case—Tom was just too fast for her.

As she slumped, he caught her in his arms, scooped her up, and carried her across the narrow gap and onto the ferry, laying her down on its smooth, shining surface.

Then he straightened and faced Helene and me.

The two of us stood there, side by side, looking at him. Waiting.

We both knew what was coming.

When Tom reached out his hand for it, Helene wordlessly picked up the javelin that Sharyn had dropped and gave it to him. He hefted it for a moment, testing its weight, getting a feel for the strange weapon. Then he said, “I want you both to take my sister home.”

“No,” I told him.

He looked at me, weary but not angry. “The ferry’s too slow, bro. If I throw this thing, we’ll all die in the Ether ‘fore we make it back. This is the only way.”

“No,” I said again, shaking my head. I don’t think I’ve ever shaken my head harder in my life.

“Please,” Helene begged him. “We’ve lost too many as it is. We can’t lose you, too.”

Tom just stood there, holding Fore, his face calm. Resolute.

I said, “We’ll all stay.” Beside me, Helene nodded vigorously.

“Ready to die, are you?” Tom asked. There was no sarcasm or irony in the question. “What about your mom, Will? What about Emily? Helene, what about
your
folks … and Julie? How do ya think they’d all feel ‘bout you sacrificing yourselves just ‘cause you don’t wanna say goodbye to me?”

“What about Sharyn?” I demanded, stepping forward. “She’s already mourning Dave. Now she’s gotta mourn
you
, too?”

For a moment, the composure left his face. He glanced back at where his sister lay atop the Energy Ferry—unconscious. I saw him swallow before replying miserably, “There ain’t no other way.”

“We could all go back,” I said. “Right now. Regroup. Talk to Steve. Figure something out and try again.”

“And what’ll the
Malum
be up to while we’re gone?” he asked me. “Whatsername back there wasn’t the only Royal. Once word spreads of what we did …” He nodded to Sharyn. “… what
she
did, some other ten-legger’ll pop up and take her place. And
they’ll
figure on us comin’ back for the Eternity Stone. No, this is our shot. Probably our only shot. My sis won
bavarak
, which is the only reason they ain’t come after us. If we go and come back, next time they’ll be ready.”

“Bro—” I began. It was the first time I’d ever called him that, though he frequently used the term with me, and only me.

But he cut me off. “I think a part of me always knew it’d come to this. I’m a soldier. And you know what the biggest lesson a soldier learns is? That it ain’t ‘bout being brave. It ain’t ‘bout self-sacrifice. It’s ‘bout just one thing: Gettin’ the job done.

“I know I can throw this javelin high enough and hard enough to hit the Eternity Stone. Will, no offense, but you don’t got the muscle. Neither do you, Helene. Maybe Sharyn was
supposed
to do it, but her arm’s broke. And, besides, she’s done enough. Bottom line: It’s gotta happen … it’s gotta be now … and it’s gotta be
me
.”

Helene started to protest, but then her mouth snapped closed. What argument was there except, “I don’t want you to die?”

He was right.

Of course, he was right. He was Tom.

We stood there, all three of us, just looking at each other. Then, without warning, Helene ran up and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a fierce, desperate hug. She was crying and I couldn’t blame her for that.

Because I was crying, too.

Do
you
blame
me
?

She kissed his cheek, started to pull away, then caught herself and hugged him again, even harder this time. And he returned it, wrapping his free arm tightly around the girl’s slim form. Around us, the alien world, carved out of solid Ether, stood silent. Not a
Malum
in sight. Maybe Little Bob had gotten the word out. Maybe the natives were all hiding down in their holes, waiting for the world above to slam shut.

At last, Helene stepped back and wiped her cheeks. Then she stiffened her spine, looked Tom squarely in the eye, and declared, “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

He grinned. “Said the girl in love with the time traveler.”

She laughed at that, but it was a laugh wrapped up in a sob, if you know what I mean. Then, glancing back at me, she stepped aside and let me have my turn.

As I went up to him, Tom said, “You gotta take care o’ Sharyn, bro. You’ll be all she’s got left. You gotta help her through this.”

“I swear it,” I told him.

“Good enough for me,” he said, and the echo of Helene Ritter was like a knife in the heart.

“I can’t believe this,” I said.

“It’s cool,” he replied, though it wasn’t. It wasn’t even close to cool. “Like I told ya, I always kinda figured it. You came into the war pretty late. Fact is: I think you came into the war to
end
it. But I fought it for so long … so long. I don’t think I know who I am without the Corpses.”

“That’s crap!” I exclaimed, suddenly angry.

But he only shrugged and repeated for something like the hundredth time, “There ain’t no other way.”

And there wasn’t. I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to. I couldn’t knock him out and drag him home; he was twice the fighter I would ever be. I couldn’t even Tase him, since my pocketknife was gone—turned into the javelin he held, or half of it anyhow.

This was going to happen.

I didn’t hug him. Neither one of us really needed that. Instead, I stepped up and held out my hand. He moved Fore to his left and then took my hand with his right. It was more a clasp than a shake, and we held it, he and I. We held it for a while.

“Thank you, Will,” he said. “I wish I could be there to see whatever it is you’re gonna do next.”

“Helene’s right,” I told him. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”