The Deathless Trilogy

3.25. Decisions

This afternoon we will send the Immortal into Hellhole.

Yesterday, Declan, Ava, and Teresa found a part of the cave that the old limestone mining company already weakened and where the bats have been smart enough to avoid. Between everyone on the Immortal and everyone inside Hellhole, the majority voted on allowing the Immortal to fall into that area.

General Kazemi is pleased with our numbers now. With the Deathless, my army, the rubble sweepers from Hellhole, the Originals who are now willing to fight, and the rubble sweepers in St. Louis, we will have a full brigade of at least 1,500 soldiers. Still not much, but every soldier counts; and with this number, we may actually have a chance. To try to gather even more willing soldiers, Jacob sent his carrier falcon off to find other survivors and deliver the same message, written on tiny scrolls tucked into a container at the falcon's feet: "38°45'36.1"N 77°06'44.5"W. Fight with us for freedom."

Everyone else is helping to prepare the Immortal for its fall. The rubble sweepers—with the exception of Ava, who is off somewhere with Tempest—are reinforcing the walls, ceilings, entrances, and domiciles in Hellhole. My mom, Celia, Julian, and Phoebe are in the mechanics lab making sure all their equipment, armor, and computers are either off the tank or strapped down. Flynn volunteered to help out in the chemistry lab, while Declan, Dr. Valencia, and I clear out the biology lab. Dr. Guzman, Eleanor, and Joe are securing the medical equipment in the infirmary, and Winston, Rachel, and Daniel are doing the same in the physics lab.

I find Declan staring at his wall of morning glories.

"What are you doing, Declan?" I ask. "We have to get moving."

"I know," he says in defeat. "It's just... this wall represents years of my life. These are the most potent little flowers you will ever meet, and they are also the most useless little flowers you'll ever meet. Unless, of course, you want a completely unenjoyable and life-ruining high."

"You mean the past few months I've spent in this war? No thanks, I'm good."

He smiles. "For real," he says. His gaze wanders up the wall, examining every flower from afar. "I mean, look at them. I'm never even in the lab anymore to take care of them, and now the leaves are wilting, the color is all off. This used to be my spot, you know. The only place I fit in, and now... I'm all over the place."

"That's a good thing, though, right? Remember when all you wanted was to be taken seriously? You're Executive Kunkle now."

"Yeah, but... But now I don't get to be with my flowers. Except for you, Tiger Lily," he jokes, rubbing the top of my head with his fist. My hair burns with a simmering heat, and I brush my fingers through it to fix the mess he made. He smiles with a sigh. "All the years of work. Ten from before the end of the world and twenty five since then, and we could lose it all in what? Eight days? Less?"

"Eight," I agree.

Declan stares off in the direction his morning glories. "And then we will either be mindless drones working for Gunther until our lives are over, or we will be free. We won't have to be scared anymore. We can just be." He squints his eyes in thought. "If possible... like, if you have any say in it... I want to be the one who kills Gunther."

"Declan...."

"He knew where Hugh was for two years while I looked for him, while he helped me look for him. And now Hugh's dead because Gunther tried to kill me. He is the reason I was away from Hugh the day the bombs went off, and he is the reason I was underestimated all those years before the bombs. Let me kill him."

"It's not up to me," I say, shaking my head. "But if it comes down to you or me, I'll let you do it. I've never been a killer and I never want to be." What about Ian? My conscience asks. What if he's dead because of me? "What happened with Ian was—"