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Chapters (79)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-One
  25. Twenty-Two
  26. Twenty-Three
  27. Twenty-Four
  28. Twenty-Five
  29. Twenty-Six
  30. Twenty-Seven
  31. Twenty-Eight
  32. Twenty-Nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-One
  35. Thirty-Two
  36. Thirty-Three
  37. Thirty-Four
  38. Thirty-Five
  39. Thirty-Six
  40. Thirty-Seven
  41. Thirty-Eight
  42. Thirty-Nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-One
  45. Forty-Two
  46. Forty-Three
  47. Forty-Four
  48. Forty-Five
  49. Forty-Six
  50. Forty-Seven
  51. Forty-Eight
  52. Forty-Nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty-One
  55. Fifty-Two
  56. Fifty-Three
  57. Fifty-Four
  58. Fifty-Five
  59. Fifty-Six
  60. Fifty-Seven
  61. Fifty-Eight
  62. Fifty-Nine
  63. Sixty
  64. Sixty-One
  65. Sixty-Two
  66. Sixty-Three
  67. Sixty-Four
  68. Sixty-Five
  69. Sixty-Six
  70. Sixty-Seven
  71. Sixty-Eight
  72. Sixty-Nine
  73. Seventy
  74. Acknowledgments
  75. About the Author
  76. Praise for Destroy All Monsters
  77. Books by Sam J. Miller
  78. Back Ad
  79. About the Publisher

“Solomon, we’re in the middle of nowhere,” I said. We’d somehow ended up along the river, on the narrow rarely used roadway between the railroad tracks and the Hudson River, south of the Rip Van Winkle Bridge.

“Stop the car,” he said again, and reached for the handle.

Too late, I thought to lock the door. He’d already opened it, and the wind howled through the opening like a savage monster that had been waiting for its chance to get in. Only the seat belt he’d forgotten to unbuckle stopped him from leaping out.

“Okay, okay, Jesus,” I said, slowing down. “You’d fucking break a leg if you tried to get out at that speed.”

He sat back in his seat. Unbuckled his seat belt. He did not shut the door. As soon as I’d slowed to a stop, he was out of the car and off again.

“Shit,” I said, turning off the car, following him into the rain. I screamed: “Where the hell are you going?”

Forty-Two

Solomon

“Where the hell are you going?” I screamed.

Ash didn’t answer. She kept walking, along the rails, into the dark.

“What the hell, girl?” I asked Maraud, but Maraud was just as confused by her behavior as she was by all human behavior.

“Ash!!” I called. I could see her in the darkness ahead of me.

I’d returned from the Underbridge to find her sitting on the rails in a kind of trance, with Maraud standing guard over her. When I squatted down and touched her hand and said her name she’d opened her eyes, looked startled, then gotten up and walked into the darkness.

Was there something here she was looking for? Something she needed? Or was she broken beyond repair by the Palace’s powerful magic? Was this part of her healing, or part of her damage?

I ran after her. Already the storm had soaked me so thoroughly that I didn’t feel it anymore, couldn’t tell the difference between air and rain, water and wind.

And then she stopped. Stood still. Tilted her head back. Lifted her face to the downpour. Turned toward me. Her eyes were shut, but I could see her smile.

“I feel it,” she said, when I reached her side. “I can feel it breaking. The spell I’m under. The rain helps. It’s real. It’s here, now, in this moment. I’m here.”

“Okay,” I said. I had to say it loud, to be heard above the wind. “So . . . we just stand here?”

She opened her mouth, let rain collect there. Laughed, spat it at me. In her face, in her eyes, the old Ash was coming back.