Chosen
Page 50
Rona saw her, and threw her the scythe. Buffy caught it, and stood a little straighter.
She screamed, swinging the back of the weapon like a bat, knocking five vamps back and over the edge in one blow.
* * *
And as if her power communicated itself to Faith, the Dark Slayer kicked her way out of the dogpile and rose as if from the dead—also bloodied, also unbroken.
* * *
The tide turned then: The Power surged in all the Slayers, and it used them to force the vamps back, may of them falling over the edge, and at least one Slayer going with them.
But they were on the offensive now; they were pushing and screaming as if reborn . . . hallelujah, as Caleb would have said . . . in the mighty throes of the Power, as they battled to save the world.
* * *
And Spike.
He staggered under the Seal opening, paused, and said, “Oh, bollocks.”
Then energy shot up from within him, straight through, like a geyser, piercing the seal, and bursting through Robin Wood’s office floor, narrowly missing where the still-prone Willow lay; she watched in astonishment as the brilliant plume crashed through the ceiling, bathing her in sunlight as she murmured, “I didn’t do that.”
And Spike:
The sun hit him hard; and he was pinned, pain and something else building inside him . . . he called out to his dearest love—
“—Buffy . . .”
She saw him, raced to him.
“Spike!” she shouted—and had to dive out of the way as a prismed ray of pure, soulful sunlight blasted out of the amulet and into the cavern.
In an instant, hundreds—thousands of vampires were incinerated.
Then the teeming cavern began to tear apart, walls crumbling, rocks tumbling like bombs; the ground shook and the foundations roared.
“Everybody out! Now!” Faith yelled.
The girls fought their way to the exit; everything was shaking.
Buffy came to Spike. He remained pinned in place, energy still blasting from him.
“I can feel it, Buffy,” he murmured.
“What?” she asked, choking with emotion, fighting to keep present, stay present, be here for him, with him.
“My soul.” He gazed at her with wonder. “It’s really there.” Grinned faintly. “Kinda stings.”
* * *
The Slayers ran out of the Seal room and through the halls, footfalls clattering, racing from the collapsing building, staying on course.
Giles was helping Robin, who saw the girls and said to him, “The bus! Get ’em on the bus!”
“Everybody!” Giles yelled to them. “This way!”
Toward the buses, and final safety . . . Kennedy was helping Willow out, and Dawn was pulling on Xander, who was calling out, “Anya! Anya!”
* * *
Beneath the debris and fallen Bringers lay a still form, who would not be leaving . . . the fallen heroine, Anya.
* * *
And Andrew . . .
Completely dumbfounded as he stabbed his attacker and the Bringer fell down dead, Andrew’s sword in his chest. Andrew was bloodied but alive . . . and completely astonished by that fact.
“Why . . . ?” he murmured.
A Slayer rushed to him, grabbed him, and hauled him out.
* * *
As the cavern fell . . .
Buffy stayed with Spike, who said to her, “Go on then!”
Buffy shook her head. “You’ve done enough, you can still—”
“No,” he managed, burning, “you beat ’em back. It’s for me to do the cleanup.”
Faith called from the entrance of the cavern, “Buffy! Come on!”
Then Faith ducked some falling debris and disappeared from the entrance . . . leaving Buffy alone with Spike, as debris plummeted around them as well.
“Gotta move, lamb,” Spike said tenderly to her. “I think it’s fair to say school’s out for bloody summer.”
The cavern was collapsing at the top and bottom, the actual school falling in on the vampires.
“Spike,” Buffy begged.
“I mean it,” Spike told her. “I gotta do this.”
His hand was held up, frozen in his rictus of revelatory pain. Buffy took her own hand, interlocked it with his. A moment . . . and both their hands burst into flames.
They ignored the fire, and looked at each other.
“I love you,” she told him, shaking.
And there it is, then. That girl, Cassie, she told me she would say it. She didn’t tell me how, or when . . . but it’s been said.
Now I can go.
He smiled kindly. “No, you don’t,” he told her. “But thanks for saying it.”
A quake rocked them, and Spike pushed her away.
“It’s your world up there. Now go!”
She looked at him . . . and went, bolting for her life.
While Spike gazed at the destruction in front of him and smiled wickedly.
“I want to see how it ends,” he said.
* * *
The bus, outside the high school as the structure collapse.
Robin shut the door—he was at the wheel—and peeled out.
At the very back, alone in the crush, Dawn searched for her sister.
“Buffy . . .” she murmured.
* * *
Buffy headed for the door out of the basement, but it was blocked. She moved quickly to the stairs.
While below, in the cavern, Spike smiled as he was eaten from the inside by the power, and the world fell away from beneath him as he died.
Died a hero.
Died a Champion.
Died good.
* * *
The bus rolled on, just ahead of the cracking earth. Faith crouched beside Robin, staunching his wound, as Giles wrapped a tourniquet around a wounded Rona, who was fading.
Vi was in her face, yelling at her, “Stay awake! Look at me! This is nothing!”
Andrew sat by himself, bewildered.
“Why didn’t I die?” he murmured.
Xander tended a Slayer, lost in his fears for Anya.
Kennedy held Willow, who was still exhausted and drained.
And Dawn . . . Dawnie . . . worried that her sister had left her, as her mother had . . . that they were both gone . . .
Buffy?
And then she saw her sister running along the rooftops, jumping off a building as it collapsed, and onto another as the bus trundled down the street; windows and beams and girders smashing down beneath her feet as Buffy kept going, leaping like a freed captive. Then the bus pulled out ahead of the last building and Buffy jumped an impossible distance, directly in front of the crumbling Sun Cinema sign, and landed hard on top of the bus.
Buffy held on, looking over the back of the vehicle at the cracks chasing them.
The entire town was sinking into a smoking black crater, a tiny bus just making its way to the edge of the town ahead of the destruction.
* * *
Inside the bus, Faith looked out, and said to Robin, “Ease off. We’re clear.”
The bus screeched to a stop. Buffy jumped off and the occupants started piling out.
Dawn opened the back door and jumped out, ran to her sister, and they embraced. Warmth, solidity. Buffy, oh, my Buffy . . .
Xander knew.
The moment he saw Andrew, he knew.
Still, he asked him, “Did you see?”
Andrew was near tears. “I was scared. I’m sorry.”
He pushed, harder than he had ever pushed for anything in his life.” Did you see what happened?” He searched Andrew’s face. “Was she . . . ?”
Andrew gazed at him. The tears were there . . . and so was the answer.
“She was incredible,” Andrew told him. “She died saving my life.”
God, no. Oh, God, no . . .
Xander put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “That’s my girl. Always doing the stupid thing.”
The tears were there . . . and so was the answer: I do, Anya.
I do.
* * *
Then it was just Faith and the guy who figured he was some big hot surprise; she checked out his big hot wound and lied through her teeth as she said, “It’s not bad. You just sit here.”
“That’s the plan,” he gritted.
Faith said, “I’ll get someone to—”
“Did we make it?” He looked at her. “Did we make it?”
She gave him the word.
“We made it. We won.”
He smiled a little . . . and then he was just staring. And still.
Damn.
Faith took a moment to contemplate what had been, would could have been, and moved to close his eyes.
Then he coughed, spasming back to life; she drew back her hand, as startled as he was.
“Surprise,” he whispered.
* * *
Sunnydale was a smoking black crater.
Buffy and Giles walked toward the edge of it, smoke rolling before them, as he said, “I don’t understand. What did this?”
“Spike,” she mourned. But oh, God, she was glad for him. Glad of him.
Spike.
Rest.
* * *
The sign that read WELCOME TO SUNNYDALE toppled backward into the crater; the fillip on the town’s demise, as girls milled about, counting their losses, checking in, processing that they had not only survived, but prevailed.
Buffy and Dawn stood with Giles, Xander and Willow, a bit apart; then Faith came up to join them as they all gazed out at the end of Sunnydale.
“Looks like the Hellmouth is officially closed for business,” Faith said.
“There is another one in Cleveland,” Giles observed. “Not to spoil the moment . . .”
“We saved the world,” Xander breathed.
“We changed the world,” Willow corrected him. Her eyes were shining as she looked at her best friend. “I can feel them, Buffy. All over. There are Slayers awakening everywhere.”
“We’ll have to find them,” Dawn said.
“We will,” Willow agreed.
Giles sighed theatrically. “Yes, because the mall was actually in Sunnydale, so no hope of going there tomorrow . . .”
Dawn choked. “We destroyed the mall? I fought on the wrong side.”
“All those stores gone,” Xander said sadly. “The Gap, Starbucks, Toys ‘R’ Us . . . who will remember these landmarks unless we tell the world of them?”
“We have a lot of work ahead of us,” Giles said.
Faith appealed to the group. “Can I push him in?”
“You got my vote,” Willow said, grinning.
Faith yawned, stretched. “I just wanna sleep, yo. For like a week.”
“I guess we all could,” Dawn said. “If we wanted to.”
“Yeah, The First is scrunched, so . . .” She looked at Buffy. “What do you think we should do, Buffy?”
Faith grinned at the Slayer. “Yeah, you’re not the one and only Chosen anymore. Just gotta live like a person. How’s that feel?”
Buffy looked at the Slayer.
“Buffy?” Dawn asked her big sister. “What are we going to do?”
Buffy Summers looked at her loved ones, then back at the crater, she considered the question. A small smile crept over her lips.
Cookie dough.
Season Seven Episodes
“Lessons” Written by Joss Whedon, Directed by David Solomon
“Beneath You” Written by Douglas Petrie, Directed by Nick Marck
“Same Time, Same Place” Written by Jane Espenson, Directed by James A. Contner
“Help” Written by Rebecca Rand Kirshner, Directed by Rick Rosenthal
“Selfless” Written by Drew Goddard, Directed by David Solomon
“Him” Written by Drew Z. Greenberg, Directed by Michael Gershman
“Conversations with Dead People” Written by Jane Espenson & Drew Goddard, Directed by Nick Marck
“Sleeper” Written by David Fury & Jane Espenson, Directed by Alan J. Levi
“Never Leave Me” Written by Drew Goddard, Directed by David Solomon
“Bring on the Night” Written by Marti Noxon & Douglas Petrie, Directed by David Grossman
“Showtime” Written by David Fury, Directed by Michael Grossman
“Potential” Written and Directed by Douglas Petrie
“The Killer in Me” Written by Drew Z. Greenberg, Directed by David Solomon
“First Date” Written by Jane Espenson, Directed by David Grossman
“Get It Done” Written and Directed by Douglas Petrie
“Storyteller” Written by Jane Espenson, Directed by Marita Grabiak
“Lies My Parents Told Me” Written by David Fury and Drew Goddard, Directed By David Fury
“Dirty Girls” Written by Drew Goddard, Directed by Michael Gershman
“Empty Places” Written by Drew Z. Greenberg, Directed by James A. Contner
“Touched” Written by Rebecca Rand Kirshner, Directed by David Solomon
“End of Days” Written by Douglas Petrie and Jane Espenson, Directed by Marita Grabiak
“Chosen” Written and Directed by Joss Whedon
“The mission continues”
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Pop Quiz: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
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The Script Book, Season Two, Vol. 4
The Script Book, Once Morer with Feeling
Tales of the Slayer, Vol. 1
Tales of the Slayer, Vol. 2
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The Xander Years, Vol. 2
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Tales of the Slayer, Vol. 1
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The Lost Slayer serial novel
Part 1: Prophecies
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Book 3: Long Way Home
Tempted Champions
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Historian’s Note: This novelization is based on the shooting scripts of the entire seventh season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Certain scenes and dialogue exchanges were cut from final telecast due to length.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First Simon Pulse edition June 2003
Text copyright © 2003 by Nancy Holder
SIMON PULSE
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All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Library of Congress Control Number 2003105393
ISBN 0-7434-8792-3
ISBN-13: 978-1-5344-3247-5 (eBook)