The realization crashes down, sinks its claws into me, threatening to drag me to the water. I don’t believe in it. I never have. I could tell myself that it all existed, I was just too wrong to feel it, that I had faith no matter how broken I was, but—oh God, I never believed.

That’s it. That’s what it comes down to. We exist in two entirely different versions of the world. Theo sees Heaven waiting for him when he dies, a life beyond this, something more. I see Dad’s face and a fucking black hole. No matter how much I tell myself that there’s a Heaven, I just can’t believe it. My mind refuses to grasp it; it recognizes the idea, but as soon as I try to say it’s true, I hit a wall. The same wall I’d hit if someone told me sewer water could be fresh and clean and clear if I swallowed and believed hard enough. It would be such a relief if I could just believe there was something after this, but I can’t.

It’s terrifying.

I say, “If you really think there’s something after this, that still doesn’t excuse what you’re doing now.”

“Don’t say that like we’re the bad guys.”

“You are! Jesus Christ, you are! Nine billion people. You killed—”

Theo growls. “That’s not the point.”

“What, genociding the entire human race wasn’t the point?” I fling my hand at the ghostly copies of New Nazareth buildings behind us, sticking up from the flood. “Like you haven’t spent your whole life praying for this world to be wiped clean? Besides, you know, a bunch of rich white Christians and the handful of undesirables they decided were useful enough to man the guns?”

“Stop.”

“I’m one of those undesirables, Theo. You are too.”

“Don’t.”

“They just tolerate you because you do what you’re told.” The words come so easily, because I have seen what the Angels have done to the world and I understand. “They don’t give a shit about you, and no amount of sucking up to God and your dad is going to change that!”

Theo lets out a low, guttural howl, just like Dominion, and lunges for me.

He brings the rock up wide to smash it down on my face—bloody flower shattered skull—but he’s so much bigger than me, and I slip under his arm. Slam all my weight into his side.

We crash into the water together, splattering our faces. Theo scrambles to get himself upright. He’s not holding the rock. He dropped it. I dig under the water to find it, but the blood is so thick I can’t see, and my fingers push into mud.

Theo’s elbow hits my ribs. I fall into the water.

He’s on top of me.