Duality (The Hitchhiker Strain) (25 page)

And then there
’s nothing left for me to do. Part of me would have liked to be the last one out for the poetry of it, but I want to give Zack and Chelsea one last minute alone. The two of them are wrapping their arms around each other and leaning close together to talk in whispers, having already forgotten I’m still here. Which I guess means it’s time for me to go.

Climbing into the pearl-white car that is now my new home, I take a deep breath and start the engine. Soon, the garage door rolls up so that I can pull the car forward, out into the darkness. And I
’m on my way. It’s done. I’m completely by myself with the knowledge that for once, when it really mattered, my plan actually worked. For the most part.

Once I get out of Militia territory and onto the highway, I'll be heading east. There isn't any particular destination I have
to reach, just east until I hit water and then down the coast trying to hit the suburbs of big cities. I'll be avoiding New York all together. Even if there are people still living there, which I doubt, it's too risky. For now, we have to focus on what's possible with our small numbers. Once we get other people on our side who are willing to work with us to accomplish our goals, that's when we can start to aim bigger. That’s when we start to change the world.

Once I
’ve put enough distance between me and anything or anyone who might have been keen to chase me through the night, I park in the middle of an open stretch of road. Any abandoned cars have long since been moved out of the area, so I should have enough warning if any nearby Zs catch my scent and try to sneak up on me.

Even though I
’m not running on much sleep, I can tell my mind won’t be shutting up any time soon. I can't wait for the sun to come up and announce the new day, making it safe enough for me to continue my drive east. With nothing else in my stolen car to entertain me, I awkwardly make my way up to the roof and lie down over the curved metal. It's not exactly comfortable and I'm a little worried the roof will buckle under my weight, but the view is amazing so I find the best possible spot I can and use my hands to cushion my head as I gaze upward and relax into my little piece of the universe.

The stars are impossibly bright. They've been like this every night since the power died, but it still takes my breath away every time I can find a
minute to relax and look upward. I don't think I've stopped to enjoy them since Cole first brought me into the Initiative, where I stayed buried underground for way too long. After that, there was never any time for stargazing. Tonight it feels like I have nothing but time.

The way the stars affect me is different every night. Mostly they make me feel insignificant, which is always strangely reassuring. But not tonight. Tonight they make me feel like I
’m a part of something bigger.

Our planet used to be ki
nd of a big deal, at least to the people who lived here. And then we destroyed ourselves. Not completely, but enough that we'll never be able to go back to how things were before. We had a space program, the internet, antibiotics, artificial limbs, and ways to mass produce anything we possibly needed. And then we replaced all of that with mass destruction, and all the things that used to make up my day-to-day life disappeared.

Sure, no one planned for this to happen. Things got out of control. But it is wha
t it is, and there's no going back.

But the stars don't care, and somehow that makes it all easier to take in. The light I'm seeing tonight could have belonged to a red giant that imploded thousands of yea
rs ago. Or to a star that's exactly like our own Sun, including a handful of orbiting planets and one little blue and green marble that supports life like ours. I like to think that there's something more out there in the universe and that, even though the people of Earth screwed up beyond measure, there will still always be evidence of what we accomplished waiting here for someone to discover.

There are probably better ways to find peace of mind, but this has always worked for me. It's nice to know that, even though my parents died, New Ravencrest was dest
royed, Zack was captured by the Militia, Liam's girlfriend was infected and killed, and Pierce...Pierce died, the grand scheme of things is still chugging away. Or maybe that's depressing—I don't know. I think it's depressing if you use all of that as an excuse to stop trying.

Hopefully the few of us that are left will band together and build a new version of humanity from the rubble of what came before, maybe even learning from the mistakes we made, but that
’s probably too much to ask for. They'll dig up our bones and our universities and our computers and they'll shake their heads at how we managed destruction on a scale that hadn’t been seen for millions of years. At least the dinosaurs weren’t stupid enough to bring it on themselves.

My name won't make
it into any of their history books. I'll be just another girl who managed to survive longer than most. But some of the people I know… They'll be remembered. Doctor Silvers and his team for causing the virus to mutate into something we couldn't handle. And then for recovering some of what we lost. Chelsea for what she was able to overcome. Maybe Cole. I still think he'll do great things with his life. It just won’t be with me by his side. And that's okay.

And I'll do great things too, in my own way. That's w
hat's going to keep me waking up each morning. Within a week, who knows? It's possible I'll have found a community of people that I had no idea still existed and my world will get a little bit bigger. I can show them proof of what I've seen and of what the future can hold. I'll do whatever I can to help them with whatever they need. Then I'll move on and do the same again.

I can understand why some people might think it'd be a lonely way to live, but it's not forever. I'll see my friends again before the y
ear is finished. With a little—okay, a lot—of luck, we’ll all have accomplished what we set out tonight to do and we’ll ring in the new year together toasting those we’ve lost and everything that’s still to come.

Who knows what the world will be like by th
en? How much of a difference we'll have been able to make? How insanely pissed Cole's dad will be because of what we did? Thinking of all the potential the next few months hold is what finally calms my mind and lets me slowly, quietly drift off to sleep. I close my eyes and gradually the memory of starlight fades away. I'm alone in the dark, in perfect silence, with only the possibility of tomorrow for company.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

After taking a gap-year to live in Ireland, Kellie has now settled into a life focused on the publish
ing world. Between working for three small publishing houses, reviewing for her book blog, and writing, it’s all books, all the time. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kellie currently lives near Toronto, Ontario with her family, including a pair of Glen of Imaal Terriers.

For news about future releases visit Kellie online at
snarkybooks.com

Acknowledgements

Again to Erica and Mickey. You have both done so much for me right from the beginning of this journey and I cannot tell you enough how much it means to me. Erica
—as always, you are the absolute best. I could not ask for a better friend or business partner. Mickey—you are the most fantastic editor I could have ever asked for. I know publishing Duality has been anything but smooth and yet you both worked tirelessly to help me cross the finish line.

And to my family. Mom, Dad, Casey, Darby, and Molly (okay, those last two are the dogs, but they count too). Thanks for keeping me sane. I love you all.

Next, a big thank you to my fellow WordNerds—Erin, Emma, Meghan, Calyn, and Erica (again!) Meeting all of you has made what could have been a very solitary publishing career into something really special. I always look forward to our Sunday chats and hope they continue on well into the future.

Finally, to all of the incredible readers and reviewers who have supported this series from day one. Thanks for taking this journey with me.

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