by Laura Pohl
“There is only one way to end this!” The queen’s voice echoes, and Andy hesitates. “Show it to me, how cruel you can be.”
Andy doesn’t move. She’s been hiding something else from us, a power that lies deep inside her, and as her skin starts glowing again, I can tell that she’s trying to repress it.
Violet looks up from the floor, where an alien is holding her down. “What is she talking about, Andy?” she asks, confused.
Andy doesn’t move, and she doesn’t answer the queen’s nightmarish metal smile.
“End this,” the queen says, daring her. Mocking her.
She doesn’t believe that Andy is capable of doing anything.
She will doom us all.
But the queen is growing tired of her playthings. She turns to us and lashes our brains with another scream, but I breathe deeply, tuning it out. What I can’t cut out completely are my friends’ shrieks, which fill the room. I can feel the blood inside my head. Even Violet seems shaken, and blood runs from her nose as she looks around, trying to find a way out.
I look at her and mouth silently, “I have the gun.”
She nods her head slightly, letting me know that she understands.
We turn our attention back to Andy, whose whole body is trembling as black holes explode all over her torso.
“No,” Andy says, stepping back. “Please, let them go!”
“Finish it, Andy,” Violet murmurs.
Andy turns around, and the whole room seems to stop in time, as if waiting for whatever is about to happen, holding its breath for this one instant in the universe that seems to be the most important of all.
“I can’t,” she says, a tear running down her cheek.
“She can’t,” the queen repeats, sneering. “She’s just like all the others.”
Suddenly, an alien reaches for Brooklyn, and I hear the crack of a gun slamming against her ribs, breaking them. Brooklyn screams. The queen concentrates her gaze, as if telling the aliens exactly where we are, ordering them to finish us, not a single ounce of pity in her.
Violet lunges forward, escaping the alien that was restraining her and grabbing on to the queen. And as if my feet are weightless, as if I can’t feel every crack inside my body, I follow her.
I slam my fists against the alien that’s holding me and grab its gun. And then I’m rushing forward, pointing the alien gun at the queen, aiming straight between her eyes.
I take a deep breath. There’s only the length of my arm between us, between the end of all of this. I grip the gun tighter.
“Are you going to shoot me, little ant?” she asks, amused. “I’m impenetrable. I am the queen.”
“Even queens have to die.”
I can taste blood in my mouth. One of my teeth hangs loosely inside it. It’s painful. It reminds me that I need to stay alive. She watches me, delighted, as if I’m nothing but a toy.
The watch on my wrist counts down, taking time away from us with every tick.
“Then do it.”
Deep down, I know that I’m doing this wrong. I know that I can’t win this one. I’ve never wanted to be a hero, and now I might die for nothing.
Violet catches my attention. She gestures toward my back.
The queen thrusts herself forward, reaching for my neck, screaming inside my brain as everything blazes into a hundred different colors. But I understand what Violet wants to do.
We know a way.
Andy won’t fight back. She won’t watch us be killed. She is the last of a pacifist species, and only the deepest grief will bring her powers to the surface. It’s the ultimate self-defense—a weapon to be used only when all hope is lost.
There is only one way to wake her powers.
I look at Violet standing in a light of her own, like an angel in the darkness. She understands.
I reach behind me, pull out Abuelo’s gun, and throw it. It flies through the air and lands perfectly in Violet’s hands, as if it were meant to be there all along.
She nods once. I bite my lip, because I know what’s about to happen. Because Violet is ready to make the biggest sacrifice of all.
“What are you doing?” snaps the queen.
Violet raises the gun to her own head.
“What…” Andy starts to say.
“I’m sorry,” Violet mouths.
There are no tears in her eyes.
Andy lunges for her, but it’s too late. Violet presses the gun to her temple, and, closing her eyes, she pulls the trigger. The bullet goes straight through, splattering blood on the wall. Violet falls, still gripping the gun, her dead eyes staring emptily.
Andy screams.
And the whole universe bursts.
Chapter 51
I watch the universe being born. A single, tiny particle explodes into a million stars and comets and asteroids and planets, and I’m sent flying through space along with them, watching the universe grow and expand as it shapes itself. Black holes suck up stars and constellations and planets, and galaxies form around dust clouds and particles of light. The particles settle into planets and revolve around themselves like an orchestrated symphony, brilliant and bright. The universe moves in a perfectly choreographed dance, with itself as its only partner.
I watch as the first sentient beings appear in the Universe, as their species grows together in knowledge. I watch as wars erupt and structures get built and species travel across space. I watch human beings evolve, just a tiny sliver in this gigantic, cosmic universe, having been forgotten long ago by everyone else. I watch as planets are created and destroyed, as the universe renews itself in different forms, as it expands and expands and expands until my eyes burn.
And I finally understand what is happening—at the center of the universe, a single being is grieving for a lost friend. For a girl who sacrificed herself and her entire species so she could save everyone else. So she could save the entire universe.
The universe is chanting her name, and the stars spell out her face, creating her features as they explode into light. At the culmination of everything, the last of the Universals has used her forbidden weapon, exterminating everything else around her. I watch as the alien parasites burst into light and vanish into potential energy.
There’s something else, too. I see Andy glowing, like the nucleus of a star. She opens her mouth and starts to sing, a forgotten melody that rips the universe apart and then builds it up again. The language of the universe itself is changing. Time is winding back, and with the fabric of a thousand different lights, I see Violet’s body being patched up. It’s too bright for me to look. Andy holds her in her arms, and with every tear a new galaxy is born.
As I watch, everything gets created and destroyed, the universe is remade, light razes through space and time, and everything burns and aches, all at once. The Hostemn get wiped out in the wave, the enemies forgotten. Andy’s power burns through all of them, cracking their beings. As I watch the history of the universe unfurl, I’m suddenly thrown back, and my body slams against the floor.
My bones scream for mercy as I try to comprehend what just happened. I open my eyes, and there’s just emptiness. In the middle of the spaceship, Andy is kneeling on the floor, glowing, her eyes full of tears.
I stare at her in utter awe, my mouth hanging open as the whole of the universe seems to dim, and the only thing left standing is Andy.
It’s a new Andy, though—taller, stronger. Her eyes burst with knowledge in a hundred different colors, and her skin reflects the universe beneath her. Her hair is fuller, all dark blue and black. Her body is made of nebulas and stardust, of dark matter and supernovas.
I try to get up, stumbling, and see that everything else around us is gone. Completely vanished. Except for my friends. They still lie on the floor, but they are here.
In the moment that Violet sacrificed herself, Andy had
understood the universe. She had forged a connection, a strong emotional bond, and that had allowed her to finally become a Universal.
I approach her carefully, my knees trembling.
The aliens are all gone, ripped to pieces by Andy’s powers. There’s not a single one in sight.
In the end, Violet was the hero that she never thought she could be. Violet did not die a coward.
I kneel next to Andy, and when she sees me, she throws her arms around me and sobs. I hold her carefully, for fear of breaking this being that could break the entire universe. I hug her back, awkwardly at first, and then easily, because I know what it feels like.
Slowly, everything comes into focus. Rayen, Brooklyn, and Avani sit around us, and lastly, Flint. We stay quiet. We don’t want words to break apart what we’re feeling. We’ve won, but we’ve also lost.
Violet lies on the floor. There’s no wound in her head anymore, but her eyes are closed.
My throat is raw. Andy holds Violet’s shoulders, bringing her into a hug. And when she does, it’s like Violet is absorbed once again into the light.
I hear a small gasp.
The room, the spaceship, the whole universe holds its breath.
Violet coughs. “Ouch. You’re hurting me.”
Andy pushes her away, her eyes wide. Then she starts crying again. Then she’s laughing, and soon, her laughter is contagious.
Andy pulls Violet into a tight hug. “How did you know that I was going to save you?”
Violet blinks and shakes her head. “I didn’t.”
Andy pulls her into another hug. After a moment, Violet pulls away from the embrace, squeezing Andy’s hands. Then she looks at me and nods.
“Thanks,” she says.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
The watch on my wrist beeps, and we’re all brought back to reality.
“The bomb!” Avani shouts.
“The ship!” Brooklyn yells.
We all get up and scramble, tearing through the empty corridors. I feel like a piece of me still lies here with this ship, something that I’ll leave here forever. But even though we’re running and there’s no time to lose, we’re filled with a feeling of wholeness, something between happiness and inner peace.
The ramp to the Arc is down, and we climb inside.
I sit in the command chair, sliding into it like it’s a second skin. I start the engines, and I feel no anxiety. I’ve accomplished everything that I wanted to here.
As I exit the bay, I have a new feeling of hope. A feeling that maybe the world isn’t over. As we hit outer space again, Earth stares back at me, and it’s like my own planet is telling me that my mission there is finished. Everything I had to do, I’ve done.
I’m free.
Flint lets out Sputnik, who comes bounding toward the control room, trying to jam her head against the controls and lick my face. I let her, keeping my grip on the wheel.
And then the impact of the spaceship blowing apart hits us full force, like a storm blowing us forward, as millions of pieces go flying. Everyone straps themselves in, and I speed up, cruising past the moon and turning around the other side. Behind us, the last remains of the parasite species have exploded, and nothing is left.
We hover in space, watching the explosion finish itself. Earth, impassive, turns slowly. It’s peaceful, almost blissful. And as I watch it turn, I know that my future doesn’t lie there.
I know that we can’t go back.
We all seem to share the same thought as we sit there in the spaceship, hovering. The realization dawns on us—going back to Area 51 seems unthinkable now. I look at Earth, waiting for it to call me back. But it doesn’t. It stays there, spinning slowly, and I watch it with renewed strength.
We have a spaceship, and we could go anywhere we wanted. But where? We have no plans. Our old lives got left behind.
But we still have each other. We’re each other’s family now. We’re all that’s left.
I turn my chair around. “Where to?”
We all exchange looks. Avani and Brooklyn hold hands. Flint is relaxed in his chair, and Rayen looks lost but ready to take on anything. Violet peers at Earth, her gaze distant. Sputnik is being Sputnik, running around the ship and trying to knock down the computer screen.
And then there’s Andromeda.
She looks up at me, and ever so slightly, she shrugs. “Anywhere, I guess.”
“The final frontier!” Brooklyn says with conviction, a wild grin spreading across her face.
Turning the ship around, I refrain from making a similarly nerdy comment. I touch the controls, and they’re all mine, just buzzing to be taken anywhere. To be taken everywhere. To just go, without a destination. To seek a new objective, and to see things that no other human has seen before. To belong with me up here, in the sky, in outer space, in my place. Just like every Martinez who has come before me.
There’s a whole future ahead of us.
We just need to boldly go.
At random, I pick a direction. I watch the stars blinking in the distance. Two for my grandparents. One for Noah. One for Adam. One for each and every person who lived on the planet below us.
I’ve spent my whole life running toward this.
Running toward the sky so it will engulf me whole.
Author’s Note
Clover struggles with suicidal thoughts and depression throughout the novel. It was important for me to portray it in a way that showed how this illness could affect a person and that living with depression did not make her weak. I know how terrible struggling to find a reason to live is, how often everything seems hopeless, but The Last 8 is a story of hope. It’s a story of surviving when the worst happens—it’s a story about learning how to live.
Clover survives. So can you.
If you’re struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts, please seek help. You’re not alone, and you never have to be.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
1-800-273-8255
suicidepreventionlifeline.org
Crisis Text Line
crisistextline.org
Society for the Prevention of Teen Suicide
sptsusa.org/teens
Trevor Project
For LGBTQ+ teens
1-866-488-7386
thetrevorproject.org
In Brazil:
Centro de Valorização da Vida
188
cvv.org.br
Acknowledgments
When I first started writing this book, it was the journey of a girl who crashed into spaceships. If I haven’t crashed into any spaceships while working on this book, I owe my thanks to the people below.
Mom and Dad—thanks for encouraging me, for reading Harry Potter in bed, and for not getting too mad when I was on road trips screaming “I can’t leave! I haven’t finished my word count!” during NaNoWriMo. Clara, my sister, who has read all my words and has never said anything mean about them (greatest achievement for sisters). For all my aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews, who are far too many to name—eu te amo. We don’t choose family, but I’m lucky as hell to have been born in this one.
To Sarah LaPolla, my agent, who read the story first and fell in love with this ragtag group of weirdos and for not getting too creeped out by aliens and whatever else was going on inside my head. Thank you for being my number one champion.
To Annie Berger, my editor, who picked this book and decided that it deserved to be out in the world. To Sarah Kasman, Cassie Gutman, Michelle Lecuyer, and everyone who helped to get this book into its best possible version, thank you. I’m so grateful that this book found a home at Sourcebooks Fire. Thank you to everyone who worked relentlessly, I couldn’t ask for a better team.
Thank you to Vanessa, Anna Luiza, Fernanda, and Priscila—I would be nothing with
out you guys. You’re my best friends. If I write friendships well, it’s because of you. Thanks for reading my crappy fan fiction since we were fifteen and actually believing something would come out of it. Thank you to Emily, Samia, and Rafael, for also believing in me, this book, and for forgiving all my tardiness literally every single time we met. Here’s to many more years of friendship, sharing the creepiest videos and probably talking a lot about Naruto. To AFB, who has long been my support. Bia, Lis, Lari, Paulo, Trix, Thais, Adria, Mayumi, Bex, Panda, and Mamá—you’re the best of the best. Thanks for all the BuzzFeed quizzes and the procrastination. This book would probably have been finished months earlier without you.
Solaine, achou que não ganharia seu próprio parágrafo? ACHOU ERRADO, OTÁRIO! Thanks for reading all my rambling, thanks for never letting me forget the mermaids (ever), thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the audios, the emails, and the long notes on all of my manuscripts. You’ve been my number one fan, and I would not be here without your support. I can’t believe I get to call you my friend. (This is cheesy, so I know you’ll like it.)
Dana Nuenighoff and Deeba Zargarpur, you guys are the best CPs a girl could ask for. I’m so glad to have found you both in my life. To Lindsey Hodder and Lyla Lawless, who both also have killed all my darlings only to bring better darlings to all my writing. To everyone who has ever read a piece of this book or my other writing and helped me get here. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
There are friendships that change the world. Iris Figueiredo, Bárbara Morais, and Mareska Cruz: you’re it. Thank you for always being there to hear my complaining and to talk me through all panic attacks and remind me why I love writing. Also, sorry for that time where I only talked about Star Wars. Love you!
To Olivia, Tassi, Mayra, Vitor Martins, Lucas, Vito, and everyone from Página 7: thanks for being here. Bruna and Ruan, for encouraging all my megalomaniac writing habits and being here for the villains. To Sylvia, Gabriel, Victoria, and all my friends from Tumblr: thanks for sticking with me. To my friends from school, who read my earliest writing ventures and copied down my homework so I could spend my time writing more (don’t do this at home, kids). Shout-out to Bruna Buher, who typed all my fan fiction so I could focus on drafting the next chapter.