I throw up then.

All over the floor mats.

The dead body of my ten-year-old brother.

I’m dry-heaving, wiping my mouth on my shirt.

Will it hurt when he dies? Will he feel it? Will he be killed instantly, or will he be impaled—injured, somehow—and die slowly? Will he bleed to death all alone? My ten-year-old brother?

I’m holding fast to the dashboard, trying to steady my heart, my breathing. It’s impossible. The tears are falling fast now, my shoulders shaking, my body breaking. The planes get louder as they come closer. I can hear it now. We all can.

We’re not even there yet.

We hear the bombs explode far off in the distance, and that’s when I feel it: the bones inside of me fracture, little earthquakes breaking me apart.

The tank stops.

There’s no going forward anymore. There’s no one and nothing to get to, and we all know it. The bombs keep falling and I hear the explosions echoing the sounds of my own sobs, loud and gasping in the silence. I have nothing left now.

Nothing left.

Nothing so precious as my own flesh and blood.

I’ve just dropped my head into my hands when a scream pierces the quiet.

“Kenji! Look!”

It’s Alia, shrieking from the backseat as she throws the door open and jumps out. I follow her with my eyes and only then see what she saw, and it takes just seconds before I’m out the door and bolting past her, falling to my knees in front of the one person I never thought I’d see, not ever again.

TEN

I’m almost too overcome to speak.

James is standing in front of me, sobbing, and I don’t know if I’m dreaming.

“James?” I hear Kenji say. I look back to see almost everyone has gotten out of the tank now. “Is that you, buddy?”

“Addie, I’m s-sorry,” he hiccups. “I know you s-said—you s-said I wasn’t supposed to fight, but I couldn’t stay behind and I had to l-leave—”

I pull him into my arms, clutching him tight, hardly able to breathe.

“I wanted to f-fight with you,” he stammers. “I didn’t w-want to be a baby. I wanted t-to h-help—”

“Shhhh,” I say to him. “It’s okay, James. It’s okay. We’re okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“But Addie,” he says, “you don’t know what h-happened—I’d only been gone a little while and then I saw the p-planes—”

I shush him again and tell him it’s okay. That we know what happened. That he’s safe now.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t h-help you,” he says, pulling back to look me in the eye, his cheeks a splotchy red and streaked with tears. “I know you said I shouldn’t, but I really w-wanted to h-help—”

I pick him up, cradling his body in my arms as I carry him back to the tank, and only then realize that the wet stain down the front of his pants isn’t from the rain.

James must’ve been terrified. He must’ve been scared out of his mind and still, he snuck out of Omega Point because he wanted to help. Because he wanted to fight alongside us.