I halted sharply, the tips of my boots tapping a few pebbles that floated down and down. “Guys, wait—”

But Patrick collided with me from behind. My head and torso rocked over the edge, my boots holding on the lip, my arms pinwheeling through empty air as I tried to keep my balance.

Patrick’s hand shot out, steady as ever, and locked down my wrist. I was tilted over the edge, nothing around or beneath me. We stayed like that for a moment, too scared to move. Exhaling slowly, Patrick reeled me in over my boots. I took a few steps away from the edge, joining Alex back near the tree line. Then, finally, I let my muscles unclench.

She pointed past me. “Look.”

I turned. Spread way down below like a scattering of jewels were the lights of Stark Peak. Streetlamps and windows and the giant spire atop city hall, glowing orange and yellow for the coming fall festival. Life in ordinary motion.

I’d never seen such a welcoming sight.

A different weather system, like Alex had said, devoid of spores.

“We did it.” Alex smiled. “We did it. We’ll find a car on the way down. And even if we don’t, we’ll make it on foot in what—four, five hours?”

“Less,” Patrick said.

“We can send them to save the kids at Lawrenceville. And to our school. They can finally start putting the world back together.”

We came together in a victory huddle of sorts, arms around shoulders, a tiny hard-won celebration.

A boom rent the air, loud enough to vibrate my ribs. Pinecones dropped from the branches all around us, plopping on the ground. Cassius yelped and shot in reverse into the forest.

The granite ledge spiderwebbed. We leapt back as it went to pieces and crumbled away.

Another boom sounded. Then another. So loud I hunched and covered my ears.

“Oh, no,” Alex said. “Oh, God, no.”

I looked at her, but her gaze was elsewhere, fixed on the sky. Patrick’s was, too.

Rising slowly, I drew shoulder to shoulder with them.

Hundreds of asteroids streaked through the night air, rocketing for Earth. Alight with flames, they slanted toward Stark Peak, Lakewood, Springfield—more cities than I could name, more than I could even see. Too many to count, they filled the sky.

The asteroid over Creek’s Cause wasn’t the problem.

It was the prelude.

Entry 22

ENTRY 22

It wasn’t the grueling hike down that wrecked us, nor the half-day wait at the base of the pass for nightfall. It wasn’t the two hours we spent huddled behind the barricade for the horde to disperse so we could boost the Silverado, nor the long, silent drive across the valley. It wasn’t even the jarring off-road route we were forced to take as we neared Creek’s Cause, having to dodge the town that once belonged to us.

It was the weight of despair.