Chapters (79)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Praise for Destroy All Monsters
- Books by Sam J. Miller
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
“What the hell do we do now?” I asked, but it was a rhetorical question. Neither of us knew the right answer. Probably there wasn’t one.
Forty
Solomon
I howled. So did the wind.
Nothing made sense. I knelt in the mud and looked at my hands, watched them shiver. Black stars bloomed and burst in my peripheral vision. The world felt like it was about to crack down the middle. Shatter into a thousand pieces.
The last hour, the last day, the last several weeks—all a blur. Maraud had run at full gallop through the pouring rain, all the way to the Underbridge. I’d climbed off, told Ash to take her to a safe place nearby. Couldn’t have the Refugee Princess showing up. Cops might take her into custody, or Destroyers still lurking in the crowd might snatch her up.
And then I entered the crowd, weaved my way through the chaos of ambulances and police cars and weeping and rage. I recognized people, thought about stopping to ask what had happened, but the only thing that really mattered was confirming Connor and Radha were okay.
“Solomon!” someone said, and clapped a hand on my back, and I whirled around with my fist cocked back until I saw who it was.
“Quang!” I said, and hugged him as hard as I could. “How are you?”
“I’m alive,” he said. “I thank the gods for that.”
He looked hungry, weak. Like he hadn’t been sleeping. Or eating. I said, “I’m so, so sorry for what happened to you.”
“Forget about me,” he said. “You have to come. Now.”
He grabbed my hand, pulled me with him. Toward Radha’s house.
She was standing in front of it. Surrounded by friends. I had never seen her face like that. Transfigured by grief, but not only grief. Rage was there too.
She wasn’t weeping. But something about her stony face was more disturbing than any amount of tears would have been.
“No,” I whispered, to myself, as the pieces came together in my mind.
“You!” she said, when she saw me.
Grief fled from her face. Only rage remained. And I knew.
Connor.
“Radha, please,” I said.
“You did this. You brought her here. They came looking for her in our home—because of you.”
Shortness of breath dropped me to my knees again. I had to cough, but couldn’t. All I could do was look up at Radha as she closed the few feet between us, this woman I loved with all my heart, who loved me more than probably anyone—who I had hurt so, so badly.
“I’m sorry,” I said, maybe out loud, maybe not.
And then I was up, off the ground. Hovering in the air. Radha held me there without moving at all, using only her mind.