ENDGAME (The Dead Planet Series Book 3)

by Drew Avera

  "I'll save you a spot," I hissed as the blue light from her gauntlet hovered above my face, the heat of it causing my brow to redden. I swallowed hard to fight back the fear of the end. No matter how much I anticipated it, I still was afraid of what I would miss.

  "Of course you will," she whispered. "Goodbye." The time was now, and I closed my eyes in expectation. I felt a coward for a brief instant, but that was all.

  Warmth enveloped me as I lay there. It was as if the pain of life meshed with the heat of death and both coexisted like a quilted blanket. It was kind of disappointing. I longed for peace, not a reminder of my life. Still, I questioned my reality. The blue light was gone and was replaced by the orange glow of sunlight through closed eyelids. I dared a glance at the other side and found myself...here.

  Ceit's dead eyes rolled into the back of her head as blood poured from the hole in her chest. It was such a large gap I could see members of The Syndicate look on in horror as she fell dead at my side. In my brokenness, I couldn't figure out what was going on. Surely I was dead, right? This had to be an out-of-body experience, before my soul departed into whatever form of an afterlife awaited someone like me. All I could think was that I wouldn't be holding a spot for her in hell for very long. We would be arriving within seconds of one another.

  A breeze built up and cooled my skin as I lay there. It was such a surreal experience, being bound to this point and time and not moving on. If the afterlife was going to come, then I would prefer to experience it later anyway. I wasn't sure I was ready for what awaited me. As I lay sprawled out on the ground, covered in blood, I felt the thud of bodies hitting the ground like gentle beats upon a bass drum. Some were farther away than others, but I felt them nonetheless. I blinked a few times while looking at the sky. The storm seemed to be disappearing, while streaks of blue light shot across my field of vision. Each blast was another death. I was familiar with the rhythm of the kill. It was as much a part of me as anything else. For years I had claimed lives for The Agency, killed in the name of The Syndicate. Yet, here I was a victim all along. It’s better this way, I thought, as the bodies fell dead beside me.

  Then there was nothing. No sound, no flashing lights, no movement around me. There was only the painful experience of slipping away from it all.

  Chapter 33

  "Clear!" Voltage shot across my heart. I felt every volt as my hair stood on end. Why this? Why now? Couldn't they just let me go?

  "Please save him," Kara said, practically in tears. Why couldn't she understand this was what I wanted: a peace-like sleep? I didn't care about life anymore. I just wanted to be numb to it. I could feel her hovering over me, like a presence I wasn't sure really existed, but I accepted it anyway.

  "Serus, I love you. Please pull through." Laurel was reserved, but concerned. She understood how I didn't want tears at my deathbed. I had told her on more than one occasion to just let me go, but I neglected to tell her why. I didn't feel that I deserved to live for all of the bad things I had done. She had told me that I wasn't responsible for that. It was The Agency. She was wrong. I was responsible. I could have stopped. The programming hadn't taken hold of me fully. I was able to doubt myself, unlike other policemen. It was fear that kept me in check. Fear was the true master I served, and The Syndicate was its tool. I obeyed like anyone afraid would obey. That was, until they put the hit on Kara.

  "Clear!" another shock, but this one felt different. It still hurt, but it was more like the gentle nudge of trying to wake someone up. I wasn't asleep; I just wanted to let go.

  "He's lost too much blood, Dr. Foyle." There was frantic movement around me and the sound of drawers opening and slamming shut. I felt needles and fluid entering my body at a rapid pace. It’s a futile effort, I wanted to tell them, but I was powerless to speak.

  "I don't see any open wounds," Kara interrupted.

  "He is hemorrhaging really bad inside. They beat him almost to death. How he lived this long is beyond me."

  I felt hands holding me as warmth washed over me. I wanted to open my eyes to see if someone else was killed and bleeding onto me, but I was unable to do so. I tried to move; I was either tied down or paralyzed. The thought of either was not very comforting. It didn't matter, though. Death came for everyone, and my date with fate was knocking at the door.

  "You can get through this, Serus. I believe in you," Laurel whispered into my ear. I smelt strawberries, my favorite smell. I longed to kiss her, but it's impossible to do when you aren't even sure you still exist. Her faith in me was a blessing I could not accept. I hoped she could find happiness in the end. My only consolation was that they were alive. Somehow, someway, they were able to make it out alive.

  "How is he?" Harris asked. He sounded better than I remembered. Maybe he was dead too. If that was true, did that mean everyone I cared about was dead? Had I failed in saving them? Peaks and valleys in my thoughts caused more pain than I could put into words. My life was flashing before my eyes. Memories of things I'd said and done. Family and friends holding onto me and releasing me into the next lapse as I spun further away. I was finally feeling numb and I welcomed it. The pressure on my chest was subsiding and it was about damned time.

  "No change at all," Dr. Foyle answered. I could hear the worry in his voice.

  I experienced tremors and light like the sun boring into my body. I was sure that I was burning alive, but I couldn't move or open my eyes. The only witness I had to the situation was the feeling of heat that didn't even seem real. It was like a memory of a feeling. The room was silent, and I was alone. My thoughts were skidding to a stop, and I fell upon a single question. Does God exist?

  I was raised without God. I was taught the evilness religion would bring to society in school. Never mind the vile wickedness The Syndicate brought into existence. I thought of the Bible, the book Harris had read. He asked me if I believed and I put the question back to him because I was ashamed to answer it. No, I didn't believe in God, but I hoped for God just the same.

  Faith was blocked by my perception of reality. I knew only corruption and pain. How could I reconcile that with a benevolent creator? Harris lost his faith, did he not? What did that say about believing in the unknown?

  Does God exist? I wish. Does God exist? If he quiets the pain, then yes. Does God exist? I'm negotiating the terms of believing with myself. Why should I even care? I have nothing to hope for anymore. I'm dead, aren't I?

  The question faded away and stayed silent.

  Chapter 34

  The vividness of dreams was nothing compared to a near-death experience. I could have sworn I had died, perhaps several times, but here I lay in the medical ward of the transport with machines and tubes connected to me. The gentle hum of monitors and breathing machines kept me company as I stared at the tiled ceiling for hours on end. The room had red lighting, and the stale smell of iodine and alcohol. I was surprised no one was in the room with me after I woke up, but I wasn't curious enough to call out for anyone. Instead, I lay there and enjoyed the numb feeling, the pain-free feeling of whatever existence this was. At least, alone, I didn't have to fight to survive. It was a small consolation, given my condition.

  My last real memory was of Ceit bleeding all over me, a hole the size of my fist in her chest from a gauntlet blast. I could remember the circumstances surrounding her betraying us. It was a matter of revenge for when I killed Mr. Whelming. That act seemed like so long ago, but she carried her hate for me the entire time. She even put herself in a position to live a lie in the service of one man and the arms of another she hated just as much. It must have been hard to keep up with the lies.

  Other than that, all I remembered was pain. The kicks, the jabs, the breaks, all of it in rapid succession. The worst of it was when my arm was bent back and broken in several places. I could still feel the tearing of muscles and the snapping of bone. I tried to move and noticed something strange. My right arm was weighted down and practically immobile. It was frightening at first, until I looked at i
t.

  My entire arm was covered in a metal skin-like substance. Rods and gears protruded along it, and connected at my joints. It was a snug, heavy contraption and took a lot of effort to move. I lifted my hand to my face and was relieved that it was not also mechanical in nature. I bent and flexed my fingers repeatedly, just to make sure everything was working properly.

  It was obvious someone had taken care of me, and perhaps those vivid images of my near-death experience were really just memories. That was as likely as anything else, and I would admit it was more comforting than being brought in by members of The Syndicate. I could only imagine what hell I would have to endure, or worse yet, what I would be forced to do if they controlled me again. I felt myself grinding my teeth at the thought of it.

  The door to the medical ward opened and revealed a silhouette outlined in blinding white light. It was a woman, and she walked over to me with sultry accents in her hips and a gentle toss of her hair. It was Laurel. She bent over my bed and planted herself on my body. She held my face in her hands and kissed me with her open mouth. Each kissed tasted sweet, like strawberries. I loved that fragrance and she knew it. "Hey," she said as she pulled her lips from mine.

  "Hey," I said back, holding her body close to mine.

  "How are you feeling?" she asked.

  I thought about it for a moment before answering. "A lot better, now that you're here," I said. She smiled and brought her lips back to mine.

  A knock at the door interrupted our rendezvous and we both looked over to see who was coming in. It wasn't someone, but a group of people. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw Kara walking hand in hand with Harris, and that he finally had a smile on his face. It looked like his faith was restored.

  "Hey, thanks for not dying," Kara said as she placed her hand on my shoulder and brought herself in to kiss me on the cheek. Her hair fell onto my face and tickled a bit as she lifted her head up.

  "No problem." I smiled at the way we could joke about it now. After all we had been through; it seemed that the dangers of this life were laughable in light of everything. It's not that we didn't value life, but we didn't take ourselves too seriously anymore. I looked around the room and counted my visitors. Laurel, Kara, Harris, Pontiff White, but no Gentry. "Where is Gentry?" I asked; my words bringing a solemn mood to the room.

  Pontiff White frowned as he stepped closer to me. "He is still fighting to survive his wounds, Serus. The venom destroyed a large part of his upper torso and he still hasn't come out of his coma. Dr. Foyle thinks it's a long shot for him to survive."

  After everything we had gone through to get him to help, it might all have been in vain. I swore under my breath and gripped the sheets tightly in my hands. "I'm sorry I was too late," I said. It was a strange thing to feel for the loss of the man who killed my father, but I couldn't shake the connection I felt with him. Even Kara seemed to have established a relationship with him, despite everything. I supposed she understood how much a person could be changed by The Agency.

  Pontiff White took my hand and held it in his. "It's not your fault. You had no way of knowing the extent of his injuries. No one here blames you, and if he were awake, he wouldn't either. He was just a stubborn old man bent on getting revenge for being betrayed. He was too focused on that, and not what was happening with his body," he said. Pontiff White's eyes showed signs of crying. Even though Gentry had killed Pontiff White's wife, they were bonded just the same. It defied logic that they were able to come together for a common good. Perhaps it was the evil dealt to them which created that bond. They shared an enemy.

  I nodded in understanding and gripped his hand tighter. "Thank you," I said. It felt good to have so many people here with me and, knowing they were safe. Gentry had been a man I once hated, but we were more alike than I ever would have wanted to admit, before this adventure began. His loss would be a sad one, but at least he could know peace if that time came. I looked at my friends and family here with me now, and knew that, for the first time since my recruitment into The Agency, I might finally find peace as well. "So what's next?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.

  "Captain Fillon is taking us via transport to a location where we can rebuild, while another transport is returning to Mars to bring back any families who want to come here to stay," Kara said.

  "You want to stay?" I asked, curious why she wouldn't return to Mars to oversee the repairs of the artificial atmosphere.

  She smiled, holding Harris' hand. "Yes. I think we belong here," she said. "Maybe we can live in peace together."

  I gave a moment’s thought to what it would be like to start fresh. Every fiber of my being ached for this opportunity. I could finally shed my gauntlet and live life instead of merely surviving it. "Yeah, I would like that a lot." I gripped Laurel's hand tightly in my own and resigned myself to the life I had always wanted. A peaceful one.

  Epilogue

  The scents of spring filled my nostrils as a gentle breeze passed through the trees. The dogwood tree was my favorite, with its cross-shaped petals, and the smell of it in bloom was soothing. All of the different colors bursting forth with new life gave me hope. It was true when they say every storm will pass. All you had to do was look at my life for evidence of that.

  "Are you ready, Serus?" Harris asked as he stepped into the gazebo. The last year had done wonders for him. He finally looked healthy after everything he had been through. Now here he was, standing in front of me and dressed in his finest suit. It was odd, us standing here for such an occasion, both of us nervous about the future in store for us.

  "As ready as I'll ever be," I said. I patted my pocket for the two silver rings lying in wait. The soft jingle over my heart brought a smile to my face.

  Harris put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. "Thank you so much for doing this. It really means a lot to her."

  I rested against the railing and looked out onto the water. The river was moving slowly in this area and I could see my reflection as if I were looking at a mirror. "I know, but it means a lot to me, too," I said. It was true. Ever since we moved to Coraine, our life on Earth had been peaceful. The transport provided necessary shelter until we began the building process. And the best part was not having any other cities nearby to compete with. It was our own establishment, named after the daughter Pontiff White's wife had expected to have.

  "I'm not at all surprised, to be perfectly honest. When our girls put their minds to something..."

  "It tends to be done," I finished his sentence for him. This was my life now. Standing by the river and living without the burden of threats or tyranny. "I just wish the whole city didn't have to be involved," I said with a sigh. It was unnerving to have a couple thousand people watching your every move. I was just glad it was for something positive this time.

  "Oh, come on, Serus. It's a celebration. Besides, it's a tradition," he said.

  I turned to face him, leaning against the railing. "It was a tradition here on Earth, not where we come from," I corrected.

  He smiled and turned the rings on his finger, playing with them. They were a matching set to the ones in my pocket, the silver melted from my gauntlet to produce something beautiful instead of the death it once represented. "Sometimes you can make your own traditions."

  I shook my head and noticed Pontiff White walking towards us. He too was dressed in his nicest suit, and he looked nothing like a man who had a heart attack. In fact, he had been taking great care of himself by enjoying his new life here in Coraine as the mayor. He had told me it was nothing like being Pontiff. He was able to make his own decisions, finally, and for the good of the people.

  "Good morning," I said as he stepped into the gazebo, his shoes tapping lightly on the boards under his feet.

  "It is a good morning," he said, as he always did. "Are we ready for the nuptials?"

  "We are!" Harris said. You couldn't chisel the smile off his face if you tried.

  "Excellent. Well, it shouldn't be long now. The guests are in t
heir seats and the brides are on their way."

  I dared to look out into the rows of seating. Our closest friends sat in the first few rows; chief among them was Captain Fillon and Dr. Foyle. If not for either of them this day might not have ever come. "Just a few more minutes, I suppose," I said.

  The sound of music came across the speaker system outside of the gazebo, and the guests stood. Pontiff White took his place at the front of the gazebo and stood, while Harris and I moved to his left hand side. All three of us watched the aisle, where lilac petals had been strewn, for the brides to walk down.

  Around the corner, I could see Kara and Laurel slowly walking towards us. Both of them looked so beautiful, with flowers in their hair and long flowing dresses. Between them was an escort. The man was hunched over with one side of his body malformed, but the fact he was alive was a miracle in itself. Gentry stood between the two brides and walked with them, hands held and smiling.

  So many nights had been spent assuming the worse was going to happen. I remembered thinking death would be the easy way out for him, but now, seeing him like this, I knew the hard road was worth traveling. He had been in a coma for almost two months, and several times he stopped breathing. I could never forget the night he finally woke up. Harris had told me he had prayed for it to happen. I didn't understand what he meant until several weeks later, but I would define that moment as a miracle.

  Gentry brought Kara and Laurel to a stop at the gazebo and Harris and I took their hands and led them up the steps. Kara stood next to Harris on the left, while I took Laurel to the right of Pontiff White.