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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

“Let me drive you to Poughkeepsie,” I said to Connor. “I’m way cooler than the train.”

He nodded. “I kind of want to go to the dance. Just to stick my head in. Is that crazy?”

I was about to conjure up an excuse, for Solomon’s sake—Mr. Barrett would probably be there—when my best friend shocked me by putting his hand on his little brother’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Solomon said to Connor.

A vast night sky stretched above the high school parking lot. Stars shivered, feeling so far away that they might as well have not been real. The scene outside was alive, electric. I took photos. No monsters, no darkness. I could control what I saw through my lens now.

Outside the lens was a different story. A unicorn sharpened her horn against a wall. A gaggle of six-inch-tall goblin boys catcalled a very fit eight-foot-tall golem boy, whose cheeks blushed red clay.

Inside, the sound of the crowd sucked me and Connor up. It made him smile, to be among the people he loved, and that made me smile. Mr. Barrett never showed.

I looked from football player to football player, compared their faces to the photographs I’d taken of them. And how they’d looked when I confronted them. The goofy or sullen or happy or sad human beings that they were.

At the end of the day, a photo says very little. Even the most brilliant images in photographic history could only say, This happened. This person existed. This incident occurred. This thing was once real.

That’s the Truth. The thing I learned from the other Ash.

Seeing the future doesn’t mean anything. We have so many futures. The one we end up with depends on who we are. What we do.

I stood up. My fingers tingled. The final pieces of my project clicked into place.

Photographs were not enough. Photographs could only go so far, say so much. Who we are is bigger than what can be captured in an image of us.

Later, I drove fast, all the way to Poughkeepsie, even though I knew that I was cutting short the little time Connor and Solomon and I had together. I drove even faster on the way back. In spite of my vision being blurred by my tears.

I had writing to do.

Things happened fast.