“I’m going to stop you there,” Tyco says, holding up a hand. “I’ve already made up my mind. One of your friends has to die—if I can’t kill you, that’s the next best thing.” His lips contort into a gleeful grin. “At least you’ll suffer. At least you’ll have their death on your conscience for as long as you live.”

Despite everything that’s happened, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Why does this boy hate me so much? “Tyco—”

“You will not convince me otherwise. If you try to fight, we will not kill you; we will capture all of you and take your friends to the Block. They will all be batteries for eternity, we will not let them die, not let them go insane, we will use their energy for as long as the universe exists. It will be hell for all of you, beyond anything you can possibly imagine. That is your choice, Luka: Come quietly and let one die, or all your friends become batteries. That is Happy’s mercy.”

“You’re a monster,” I tell him. “How can you go along with this? How can you be on Happy’s side?”

For a moment, he’s silent. Without the soldiers and the drones, it feels like Tyco, the rain, and me are the only things left in the world.

“The rain is falling, Luka. Time is running out. Better tell your friends the deal.”

I try to think of another way out of this, but nothing comes, and there’s no time.

I run back to the library’s checkout desk and find the intercom. I press the button.

“Hello, can you hear me?”

There’s a sound of static, and then Igby’s voice replies. “Luka, you’re still alive? I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’m coming down,” I say. “Open the doors.”

I climb halfway down the wooden staircase—the corridor is virtually submerged now. I jump into the cold water, swimming along the tunnel to the safe room door, which spins open when I hammer my fist against it.

The water surges and I’m carried through. As soon as I’m back inside the panic room, the door slams shut behind me. The water in here is hip-deep.

“So?” Pod asks. “What happened?”

I look around at my friends, trying to figure out a way to tell them one of them has to die. I’m about to answer when the silence is broken by the first piercing cry of Sam’s newborn baby.

We turn to see Sam, exhausted, smiling, holding her child close.

“We’re getting out of here,” I say.

There’s a simultaneous sigh of relief from almost everyone in the room. Sam kisses her baby’s head, Malachai holds Wren close to him, but Pod doesn’t smile, and Pander looks at me questioningly.