Big Momma cocks her head to the side. “What are you doing?”
Caleb stays quiet.
She stomps toward him. “What are you doing?”
“Shut up. I’m thinking.”
She shrieks. The horrible black tendrils on her back grow and fly from her. A tornado of tentacles roars down on Caleb.
He sees them. Doesn’t move.
They surround him. Go to tear at him. And—
Nothing happens.
Caleb sits untouched. A slight smile on his face.
Big Momma howls. Asks her question in endless fury. “What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing?”
“Like I said, lady, you have no imagination.”
The giant star in the sky balloons up. Like it’s getting ready to go supernova. The ancient strings in the sky shake. Come loose.
Caleb says, “Thing about humans? What makes us special is we can pretend. We tell stories. And we live those stories. A kid in his yard with a stick can be a space marine keeping hordes of aliens at bay as long as he thinks hard enough. Or just lets go. Lets his imagination take over.
“We’re war-mongering, greedy, violent, yeah. But, man, can we tell a good story.”
Big Momma stops. She’s a foot away from Caleb now. She stares at him. Her teeth chatter. She moves her jaw back and forth. She scratches her nose. Sneezes. “What. Are you doing?” She clutches at her chest. Squeezes her fist in a ball.
“I’m pretty sure I just stopped your hearts.”
In the sky of Big Momma’s mind, the strings snap with thunderclaps. Torn threads come to a lazy rest across the walls. The giant star doesn’t explode. It fizzles out.
Big Momma falls to her knees. She coughs. Drops to her side. Blinks at a still-seated, Zen-like Caleb. She says, “What have you done?”
“I killed you. You were right about the stalemate, and I was right about outthinking you, but I hadn’t realized why. We’re both manifestations. Mental phantoms. Playing chess, but playing it wrong. Going at each other without strategy. Until a few minutes ago, it didn’t dawn on me that I can just imagine myself as invincible. Which sounds really silly, but look where we are.” Caleb lifts his hands. “My father told me something once. He said, ‘You are stronger and smarter because you want to be, but you also know you need to be.’ So I stopped acting like an idiot, sat and started shutting down your bodily functions. We’re in your mind. All I needed to do was start telling things not to work anymore.” Caleb taps the side of his head.
Big Momma lies on her back. She stares up at the blank expanse of nothingness in the sky. She convulses. Her limp tendrils jitter for Caleb. He brushes them away. She vomits. Pukes up great volumes of black and red.
Caleb stands over her.
Her eyes flutter open to meet his.
He wants to spit on her. To degrade her. But he doesn’t.
He rubs his face in exhaustion. “I want you to die knowing that a small boy killed you. A child whose parents you murdered. This is for my mother and father.”
She starts to say something. Just croaks and groans.
He slides her eyes shut.
Then pulls himself from her mind.
Chapter 44: That’s All Folks
Big Momma’s wretched tentacles wither. The tendril in Three’s side shrinks and tumbles from him. His immune system wins the fight against the intrusion. He lets Big Momma go.
Her flesh dies. The meat cocoon flakes away. The vines of skin snap and fall. Her enormous body tumbles free. Hits the asphalt of the Verrazano. A wheeze of air escapes her skull. The bridge sways with the intense weight.
She makes one more noise: a kind of sigh.
A torrent of bodily fluids spew from her mouth and ruptured eye socket.
The handiwork of Caleb’s clever organ obliteration.
The twelve-year-old Svoboda rides out on one such wave.
Jack and Catarina are there. Both pat him down. Brush away the thick slops of viscera. Check his pulse. Check his skin for damage.
He’s a mess, but physically fine.
One of Three’s tentacles reaches down. Props the boy up. Delicate. As if the monster is handling fine China at a dinner party.
Caleb chuckles. “I’m okay. I’m all right.”
Jack and Catarina let loose with a series of joyous shouts. Hoots. Howls. Jack hoists him onto his shoulders. Parades him around in small circles.
He puts Caleb back down when the boy says he might get sick.
“Yeah, sure, sorry, little dude,” Jack says. He puts his hands on his hips.
Caleb looks up into Three’s eyes.
Three bows. A slight dip. Enough to show his respect for the little human. “You were my secret weapon.”
Jack tucks his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans. Scratches his head. “Still...your whole family died. So that’s kind of a bummer, isn’t it?” Jack’s pretty goddamn glad they’re dead, to be honest.
For the first time in his existence, Three makes a sound like laughter. “My family is alive and well.”
Chapter 45: And Then
Three flees when he sees the local news vans. He dives into the Hudson. Wants to search for a place to rest his weary mind. He doesn’t tell Jack, Caleb, or Catarina where he’s headed. And he doesn’t answer the questions they call out to him.
He leaves them with, Thank you.
His dim outline swims north.
Caleb, Jack, and Catarina have no such escape.
Standing amidst the violence of the day, drenched in blood and stinking like putrefaction, they’re mobbed by journalists and people who want to shake their hands. Cameras. Cameras goddamn everywhere.
It isn’t until Jack spins out the Colt that the mob gives them some room. Even then, fans and reporters follow them all the way to the sewer Jack left Elie in.
Elie Schrieber’s response to freedom is, “I need a drink.”
* * *
The four of the Tribe agree to do The Today Show. Ninety percent of the country tunes in. And the result is a disaster, albeit a highly profitable one for NBC.
Advertisers have orgasms.
Advocacy groups decry Jack’s smoking and Caleb’s honesty about drinking, because, really, what kind of example are they setting for other kids? Jack asks why they’re supposed to give a shit about that at all. The FCC has kittens when Elie tells one host to “go fuck herself with a rusty blade” when she questions the image Jack, Caleb, and Catarina present. At least feminist groups learn to love Catarina.
* * *
Six months after “Emergence Day”—as it comes to be known in the press—Jack, Caleb and Catarina know they have to leave.
For Jack and Caleb, it’s an easy decision. There’s nothing here for them anymore. Their parents are dead and they don’t like the attention. The brothers want to be left alone.
For Catarina, it’s much harder. But she can’t fight how she feels. The way all of them feel. And with enough time. Enough crying. Elie sees things from her point of view. She’ll visit, she promises. She’ll stay in touch.
This isn’t “Goodbye.” Just...moving on for a while.
Those are the same to Elie.
* * *
For the first time in a long time, Caleb doesn’t know what to do. Zarifa’s door is right there. But he’s having trouble with the knocking process.
From the Charger, Jack and Catarina motion for him to get on with it.
“Either she says yes or she says no,” Catarina says. “Binary. That’s it.”
Caleb grimaces. Steels himself. Knocks.
Afshan opened the door. “Caleb,” she says in her thick Afghani accent. “We have seen you all over the television and the newspapers. You are a big star now. It is wonderful to see you in person again. Like old times.” She smiles.
Caleb folds his hands behind his back. “It’s nice to see you too. How’s Akil?”
“He is good now. He was very sad and scared for a long time. But he always cheered for you wh
en he saw you fighting the monsters or on the news. You and your brother are ‘his guys,’ he calls you. If he was not at a friend’s house, he would love to see you. Can you stay for a while?”
“I wish I could. We’re gonna hit the road.” Caleb points to Jack and Catarina. They wave. “Is Zarifa home?”
“Of course. I will call for her. Wait here.”
Caleb looks back to the Charger. Jack and Catarina give him thumbs-ups. He groans.
“Caleb,” Zarifa says. Weary. “Mr. Famous come by my house.”
He can’t find the words.
She sounds tired of dealing with him. Tired of talking to him.
With good reason.
He’s been calling her nonstop for days. Trying to convince her to come with him. Trying to prove that it’s the right thing to do.
The real reason is: Caleb is lonely. And she’s seen him go from bumbling twelve-year-old to hero twelve-year-old with special gifts.
Shit. Jack has Catarina and Catarina has Jack.
He has an older brother and new kind of sister, but...
His heart aches. He desperately wants a companion who understands him. Or at least knows what he’s been through. Seen the things he’s seen.
“Zarifa, I—”
“I can’t go. We’re both smart enough to know why. We’re twelve. I have school. My family.” She winces after saying that. “I’m sorry, Caleb. Maybe you don’t have a reason to stay. I do.”
He sticks his hands in his pockets. “What about you and me? We can come back at some point. Visit your folks.”
“You don’t even know where you’re going.”
“We have an idea.”
Zarifa crosses her arms. Stares at the ground. “I don’t know how to say this without hurting you. Whatever love you think there is here... There isn’t any love here. Not really. We’re kids, Caleb. Well, I am, at least. That’s the thing you’re not getting. I can’t just pick up and go. I can’t. And it’s not fair for you to put this on me.”
Caleb bites his lip. Nods.
He understands.
Sure.
Back in the Charger, nobody has to ask what her answer was.
“Drive,” Caleb says.
* * *
They cross over the brown water of the Kansas River and roll into Lawrence. All three wonder how this part of the country can be so damn flat.
Folks around are nice as can be. And they all have a good time staring at the immaculate Charger.
The Tribe winds up at The Burger Stand, on Massachusetts Street. Just a couple blocks south of the river and the Bowersock Dam.
Catarina calls Elie. Tells him they’re fine. Having a great time.
Jack tries to decide between the Smoke Burger and... No, he’s pretty much decided on a Smoke Burger. Rare. With fries crispy enough to snap.
Caleb scribbles on a pad. Fills page after page. He does this on all their stops. Makes sure Akil is up to date on their travels. Makes sure Akil knows “his guys” haven’t forgotten him.
And can the little dude give Zarifa a hug?
Jack takes a swig from his flask. Hands it to Catarina when she gets off the phone with Elie—who misses them all very much, but is glad they’re doing well.
Jack says, “Man, look at that.” He points to the television.
On the screen, some CNN joker is showing off a prototype for a holographic tablet computer. For now, they’re calling it the Asimov.
Catarina says, “Neat”
Jack says, “Definitely. About time, too.” Then to Caleb, “You decide?”
Caleb nods. “If we can, we should. So why not?”
“Good. Then we’re going.”
The waitress is there. She puts down three glasses of water. “Goin where, sug?”
Jack smiles at her.
And points up.
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