Godzilla

by Greg Keyes

  They found Maddie in the bathtub, covered by rubble. She’d done the smart thing, and sought what shelter she could.

  It hadn’t been enough.

  He remembered Andrew, his broken body, all of the life and light gone from his sweet face. How he had wanted to somehow go back to before it happened, make a different choice, be in a different city.

  And now Maddie. It was the same. She didn’t react when they touched her; her limbs swung limp as they dragged her out of the ruin. Her skin was pale and cold to the touch.

  He looked at Emma and saw his despair mirrored in her face.

  “Don’t go,” he said to Maddie, clutching her poor body. “Please don’t go.”

  Together he and Emma held her, held each other. Crying.

  Remembering. The fishing trip. Her first day at preschool, her frown, angry because she had to wear a uniform instead of her shark pajamas. Sitting on a rock during a rest on the Appalachian Trail, staring off into the distance, lost in thought. Sleeping next to Emma, a month old, the same little grin, distinctive even then.

  * * *

  Maddie remembered her fear, the tumult outside, the pictures rattling on the shelf. She remembered everything coming apart, her lungs sucking for air and finding none.

  Then everything sort of shut off and faded to black. She was still aware, there just wasn’t anything to see, feel, or hear. It was like she was under still water, in the dark, all of her senses turned inward.

  She wondered if she was dead. She tried to move, but her limbs weren’t there. Her panic had faded, but now it began to return. What had happened to her?

  Help me! she tried to shout, but she didn’t have a voice, either.

  Had she failed? In her terror to escape the fight, she hadn’t been able to see the big picture, sort out who was winning. She realized in retrospect that the two Titans on the Common must have been Mothra and Rodan. She had a sort of snapshot of them in her mind, Mothra’s beautiful delicate-looking wings, the ugly hook of Rodan’s beak, all engulfed in flame.

  She tried again to wiggle her hands and feet, but still nothing happened. She wondered if she was even in her body anymore.

  But then the darkness grew just a little lighter. A faint blue illumination appeared, just a spot at first, but then it began to expand, as if she was nearing the end of a tunnel.

  The glow took on form as it grew nearer, and she became aware of other shapes around her. Familiar shapes. A place she knew. The perfumes of the rainforest, the metallic smell of machinery, the birdsong.

  She was back in the Yunnan containment facility. Everything was there – the control room, the carvings on the temple walls – all illuminated by Mothra’s bioluminescence. She was as Maddie had last seen her, in her larval form – but this time there was no one else around. Not her mother, not Dr. Mancini, no security personnel – just her and the grub. And as before, she felt a connection with the Titan, and reached to touch her.

  This time, she wasn’t interrupted.

  As her fingers brushed chiton, Mothra transformed. Her face became covered in soft down, and wings unfolded.

  Maddie didn’t think she had ever seen anything so magnificent.

  All of her fear was gone now, and she was at peace. The great insect chittered a strange, lovely song – and although there were no words Maddie could understand, it felt as if the Titan was telling her everything would be all right. She felt Mothra’s heartbeat through her hand, harmonizing with her own.

  After a few more heartbeats the light began to fade; the Titan’s shape unraveled and drifted, a million strands of silk, carried off by the wind. Mothra was gone, and so was her light.

  But now Maddie saw a new, harsher light. She heard familiar voices murmuring her name. And crying.

  She closed her hand and felt her fingers move. Air filled her lungs.

  And Mom and Dad were there, both of them, hugging her.

  Maybe I am dead, she thought.

  But her body argued otherwise. Every inch of it ached.

  Maybe everything wasn’t okay. But it was better.

  * * *

  Madison’s body twitched; her lips parted, and she gasped for air. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at them in confusion.

  “Mom?” she said. “Dad?”

  Mark couldn’t find words. All he could do was hold her, and hold Emma, cherish their familiar warmth, the scent of them. His family.

  Andrew was gone, and nothing could bring him back. What a fool he’d been to let go of what he still had left.

  He wouldn’t do it again.

  They finally released one another, although Mark kept hold of Maddie’s hand. The others were staring off into the distance, where Ghidorah was killing Godzilla.

  Mark didn’t understand. They had been winning. What had happened?

  Ghidorah’s necks wrapped around Godzilla, crushing what life remained from him. His fading dorsal spines began to crack under the stress. Then Ghidorah’s wings started to beat, stronger, harder, until – incredibly – he lifted the ninety-thousand-ton lizard from the ground. First slowly, but then more quickly, he ascended hundreds of feet into the air.

  As he stood amongst smoke and flame, viewing the Titans high against the storm-wracked sky, Mark felt a sense of dislocation, as if he wasn’t in Boston in the twenty-first century, but in a volcanic wasteland millions of years ago, just a little rat-like primate ancestor watching the gods fighting it out, desperate to find a safe place to hide.

  Ghidorah opened his claws, and Godzilla fell, a Titan cast from the heavens. He began to burn, and as the flame surrounded him his form blurred, and he looked like a fiery sphere, like a meteor plunging toward the Earth.

  The giant reptile struck the ground like a bomb, and when the dust settled, Mark saw him lying motionless in the crater his body had carved into Boston.

  He looked dead, but Ghidorah didn’t think so – or maybe he just wasn’t taking chances. He rose above the fallen giant, his electrical charge building, preparing to end their ancient duel once and for all.

  Serizawa had died for nothing, as had Vivienne, and countless pilots and soldiers. With Godzilla dead and the ORCA destroyed, nothing could hold Ghidorah in check, stop him from remaking the world as he saw fit.

  And there was nothing they could do about it but watch as the dragon’s charge increased, the bottled lightning of a hundred storms. Ghidorah built his fury, and when his body could no longer keep it in, he let it go. The death blow.

  Like Ghidorah, Mark had been so intent on Godzilla, he hadn’t noticed Mothra. Torn and battered, she pulled herself onto Godzilla, spreading her wings to shield him from Ghidorah. Then, with a defiant screech, she launched herself at the dragon.

  She didn’t get far. Lightning blasted from Ghidorah’s mouth and struck through her, and she vanished in a burst of light. All that remained was a glowing rainbow cloud of particles that began to fall gently upon Godzilla, like a light snow in the moonlight.

  Ghidorah’s eyes sparkled with dark, malicious glee as he regarded the ethereal cloud that was all that remained of Mothra. It wasn’t the expression of one animal that had bested another, or of a predator regarding its prey. Ghidorah enjoyed killing. He lived for it.

  In no hurry, the dragon returned his attention to Godzilla. At this distance, it was hard to tell, but it looked like the fallen Titan was starting to take on a dull, reddish orange sheen, as if lava was welling up from beneath his skin.

  And suddenly Mark realized that they still had a chance. A small chance, but better than no chance at all.

  “We need to work fast,” Mark told Emma.

  “To do what?” she said.

  Mark ran back to the Humvee and came out with the shattered ORCA, the thing they had started building so long ago. Together.

  “You can’t be serious,” she said.

  But he was, and she saw it. So they got to work.

  * * *

  Madison’s parents began to repair the ORCA. It had been a lo
ng time since they had been together, longer still since they had worked at a common purpose.

  But now Maddie saw how it must have been, before. Before Andrew died, and Dad started drinking so much, and Mom – lost her mind. They were like dancers, or synchronized swimmers, both working like crazy but somehow not getting in each other’s way.

  “You sure about this?” Mom asked.

  “It’s the only way to save him,” Dad replied. “We fix it, get on the Osprey, and draw that thing away from Godzilla. Buy him time to get back on his feet.”

  “Mark, you’ve seen what that thing can do.”

  “I know,” her father replied. “It’ll be tight, but we have to take that chance.”

  “Patch that cable,” her mom said.

  “Got it,” Dad said.

  “No, the red, not the white!”

  “Okay, okay!”

  “You sure this thing is gonna work?” one of the Monarch soldiers asked. His nametag said Martinez.

  Neither of them bothered to answer. In fact, they were so involved in their work they probably hadn’t even heard him.

  Dad held out a piece of wire for her mom to solder, and Mom suddenly stopped moving, breaking the clean rhythm they had established. She was staring at his hand.

  “If you replace this five-pin,” her father said, “I can reset the transmitter and we should be good to go.”

  That’s when Maddie realized what her mother was looking at. The wedding band on his left hand.

  Then Dad finally got it.

  He looked her mom in the eyes.

  “I never gave up,” he told her, softly.

  Maddie felt her throat close up, and tears nearly start once more, but then things began shaking again. Ghidorah was savaging Godzilla with all three heads. Two wrapped around him like boa constrictors, while the other bit into his neck. With each bite, Godzilla’s glow grew weaker, while Ghidorah’s wounds closed up and vanished. Godzilla cried out, a terrible, mournful sound. The great Titan was dying.

  “Whatever you’re gonna do, do it fast,” Barnes said.

  “Are you good to go?” Dad asked.

  Her mother nodded. “Yes.”

  “All right, three, two, one…”

  Mom set the solder, Dad sparked it, and Maddie flipped the switch.

  The ORCA flickered and powered on. It worked!

  “That’s it!” Mark said. “That’s it.”

  But maybe they were too late. Godzilla’s glow had all but faded. In moments it would be gone.

  Overhead, an Osprey descended toward them.

  Her mom turned to her. There was something a little off about her expression. But that was hardly surprising, after everything they’d been through. There was a lot that needed saying, but there wasn’t time for all of it.

  “I love you, Maddie,” her mom said. “More than anything.”

  All of the hurt, her feeling of betrayal, felt like a hard knot in Maddie’s stomach. But it felt a little better now. It was a start.

  “I love you too, Mom,” she said. She knew it would never be the same again. She would never be that kid who thought her mother had it all together, knew everything, understood what was best for everyone. No more than she thought of her father as perfect. But that was for the best, right? To live in reality.

  The Osprey touched down, rotors beating at the air.

  Her mom started programming the ORCA. Two of the soldiers helped a third who was wounded toward the rescue craft.

  “Emma,” Dad said. “Let’s go!”

  “Take her!” her mom said, still fiddling with the controls. “I still have to activate it.”

  Her dad gave her a skeptical look.

  “I’m right behind you,” Mom insisted.

  Her father lifted Maddie in his arms and ran toward the Osprey. Over his shoulder she saw her mom activate the ORCA, heard its heartbeat song begin.

  In the distance, she heard a familiar shriek. Monster Zero’s heads came up. He dropped Godzilla’s listless body and swung around, searching for the source of the hated sound, the threat to his supremacy that he somehow could not see.

  All three heads focused on them.

  The monster started toward them with terrible speed, knocking down everything in his path. Skyscrapers crumbled into dust in his wake. They needed to go. She knew what it was like to be face to face with this guy, and every nerve in her body screamed at the thought of being there again.

  Her mom picked up the ORCA and ran like hell toward the Osprey.

  Dr. Chen and a man she didn’t know helped her father get her on board.

  “Maddie, thank God,” Chen said.

  Her dad climbed in, and now they were waiting on Mom. But Monster Zero was coming, fast. More full of rage than ever.

  “We gotta lift off,” a woman in a military uniform said. She wore the marks of a colonel, if Maddie was remembering straight.

  The pilot obeyed the order; the Osprey began to rise. Mom still wasn’t on board. Dad moved over to the door, so he could pull Mom up when she got there.

  We’re going to make it, she thought, all of us. Mom will get on board, we’ll take off…

  She tried not to think past that. Which was faster in the air, Monster Zero or the Osprey?

  She was afraid she knew.

  TWENTY-THREE

  From the notebook of Ishiro Serizawa:

  In many myths and ancient tales, the world begins with a battle between the gods. In Sumerian myth, the dragon goddess Tiamat fought Anu. In Greece the Titans battled their children, the gods. Cipactli, a sea monster, fought the four gods Huizilopochtli, Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipoca, and Xipe Totec in an Aztec myth. In such stories, very often the world is said to be created from the remains of the defeated. Other cultures place the war of the gods at the end of time. Raganorak. Armageddon. I believe both are true. Creation and destruction are two sides of the same coin. The gods go to war, a new world emerges. The new world becomes old, out of balance, and the gods fight again.

  Emma glanced back at Monster Zero, and made a quick, brutally honest calculation.

  Mark and Maddie weren’t going to make it if the Osprey waited until she was aboard. Even if they managed to get a few yards off the ground, it was hopeless. Monster Zero would follow the ORCA wherever it went, if it was turned on. If she turned it off, he would probably kill them anyway. Either way, he would return to finish off Godzilla.

  Unless she stopped him.

  So she quit running, and instead watched the Osprey continue to rise.

  “Mom!” Maddie shouted.

  Emma focused on Mark’s surprised face, saw him take it in and understand what she was doing.

  “I love you,” she said, knowing they couldn’t hear it. She said it more for herself than for him. She had kept those feelings walled off for so long...

  But it all came back so effortlessly now, the good times. Falling in love. Falling in love in a whole new way when they first saw Andrew, held him, that tiny little primate. And again, when Madison came along. Nothing was ever perfect. There were always tough times and arguments. But they’d had balance, then, so when something went wrong, they always recovered.

  But losing Andrew had broken that equilibrium, and they never found another. Mark had blamed her for their son’s death; he never said so, but she knew. It was her job that took them to San Francisco. Mark wanted to stay in Boston. They could have, but the San Francisco offer had been too hard for her to resist. It was unfair that he felt that way, and part of her had hated him for that.

  Only now did she realize that she had blamed herself – for all of it. That was why she worked so hard to make it right. Out of guilt. She couldn’t forgive herself, and in her heart, she didn’t believe Mark could either.

  Still carrying the ORCA, she rushed to the Humvee, laid the machine on the passenger seat, started the engine, and gunned it, driving away from her family as fast as she could manage through the wreckage of Boston.

  A glance back showed it was working.
Ghidorah took a sharp turn, dismissing the Osprey, coming directly after her.

  You won’t touch them, you son-of-a-bitch, she thought. You won’t touch my family.

  * * *

  Mark saw Emma’s lips form the words. He saw her expression and believed her. That she still loved him. And he knew what she was about to do.

  Maddie understood, too.

  “No! Mom! Stop, stop!” she shouted. Mark was still at the door. He leaned forward, toward his retreating wife. He couldn’t lose her again. He could jump, wrestle her into the Osprey, or – something. They weren’t too high yet. Foster might not come back for Emma, but she would come back for him.

  But the others grabbed him, pulled him back. He could only watch helplessly as Emma boarded the Humvee and drove away into the ruins of Boston, as the Osprey rose higher.

  And Ghidorah turned to follow her, as she had surely planned.

  Emma was right, of course. Leading the monster away was the only way to save Maddie. He just wished he’d thought of it first.

  Give him hell, girl, he thought, as hot tears of pride, love, and loss burned at the corners of his eyes.

  “Daddy,” Maddie said, through her tears, hugging him hard.

  He hugged her back, his girl, his Maddie. Death might break them apart, but nothing else would.

  * * *

  Emma didn’t know how far she would get. Far enough, she hoped, for the Osprey to vanish into the smoke and ash. For Mark and Maddie to fly to safety.

  Was Godzilla dead? When she’d last seen him, he was limp, unmoving. If he was, there was nothing to stop Ghidorah. The other Titans would fall in line with his will, and they would continue transforming the Earth into whatever it was Ghidorah wanted. But if Mark and Maddie survived, Chen, a few others – then it still wasn’t over. Mark could build a new ORCA, a better one. Or maybe what was left of Monarch would come up with something new – a bioweapon, a drug, a way to short-circuit Ghidorah’s energy attack. At least there was hope. Hope that someone could undo some part of the terrible damage she had unleashed. She wouldn’t be part of it, or see it done.