The City of Mirrors (The Passage 3)

He glanced at the others.

“Is there a problem, soldier?”

“Dad—” Caleb gripped him by an arm and made his father look at him. “I know this is painful. We all understand how you felt about him. I’ll get a blanket, all right?”

The tears had begun to flow; his jaw trembled with confined fury. “We’re not just leaving him here for the birds, goddamnit.”

“There are a lot of bodies out here. We really don’t have time.”

Peter shook him off. “This man was a hero. He’s the reason any of us are still alive.”

Caleb spoke in measured tones: “I know that, Dad. Everyone does. But the general was right. We really have to think about what comes next.”

“I’ll tell you what comes next. We bury this man.”

“Mr. President—”

Peter turned: Jock. Someone had wrapped his ankle and found him a pair of crutches. He was sweating and a little out of breath.

“What the hell is it now?”

The man seemed uncertain.

“For God’s sake, just say it.”

“It looks like…somebody’s alive outside.”

—

The gate was gone: one of the doors had been knocked askew and was hanging from a single hinge; the other lay on the ground a hundred feet inside the wall. As they moved through the opening, Peter’s first, impossible impression was that it had snowed in the night. A fine, pale dust coated every surface. A moment passed before he grasped the meaning. Carter’s army lay dead; their bones, now in sunlight, had begun their dissolution.

Amy was sitting near the base of the wall, arms wrapping her knees, gazing across the field. Covered in ash, she looked like a ghost, a specter from a children’s story. A few feet beyond her, beside Soldier’s body, lay Alicia. The horse’s throat was torn open, among other things. Flies were buzzing around him, dipping in and out of his wounds.

Peter strode forward with gathering speed. Amy turned her face toward him.

“He didn’t kill us,” she said. She spoke as if in a daze. “Why didn’t he kill us?”

Her presence barely registered in Peter’s mind; it was Alicia he wanted. “You knew!” He barreled past Amy, seized Alicia by the arm, and rolled her faceup. “You fucking knew all along!”

Amy cried, “Peter, stop!”

He dropped to his knees and straddled Alicia’s waist; his fingers wrapped her throat. His eyes and mind filled with the loathsome sight of her. “He was my friend!”

More voices, not just Amy’s, were yelling at him, but this was a matter of no importance. They might just as well have been calling to him from the moon. Alicia was making a gurgling sound; her lips were paling to a bluish color. She was squinting into the morning light. Through these narrow slits, their gazes met. In her eyes, Peter saw not fear but fatalistic acceptance. Go ahead, her eyes said. We’ve done everything else together, why not this? Beneath the pads of his thumbs, he felt the stringy gristle of her trachea. He shifted them downward, positioning them in the spoonlike depression at the base of her throat. Hands had grabbed him. Some were tugging at his shoulders, others attempting to pry his fingers from her neck. “He was my friend and you killed him! You killed all of them!” One hard push to crush her larynx and that would be the end of her. “Say it, you traitor! Say you knew!”

A tremendous force yanked him away. He crashed onto his back in the dust. Hollis.

“Take a breath, Peter.”

The man had positioned himself between Peter and Alicia, who had begun to cough. Amy was kneeling beside her, cradling her head.

“We all heard her,” Hollis said. “She was trying to warn us.”

Peter’s face was burning; his hands, clenched into fists, shook with adrenaline. “She lied to us.”

“I understand your anger. We all do. But she didn’t know.”

Peter’s awareness expanded. The others were watching him in mute incomprehension. Caleb. Chase. Jock, leaning on his crutches. The old man, who was, for some reason, still carrying his bucket.

“Now, do I have your agreement to leave her be—yes or no?” Hollis said.

Peter swallowed. The fog of fury had begun to dissipate. Another moment and he nodded.

“All right, then,” said Hollis.

He extended a hand and pulled Peter to his feet. Alicia’s coughing had eased somewhat. Amy looked up. “Caleb, run and get Sara.”

Amy waited by Alicia until Sara arrived. At the sight of Alicia, she startled.