Read Online The Horde Without End (The World Without End) by Nazarea Andrews - Free Book Online
Authors: Nazarea Andrews
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Hope
The thing about the apocalypse is that it made life fragile. Life always was, but for those who had lived before, death was not an everyday occurrence. It was a tragedy, something that was actively feared. It was people’s greatest fear.
And then, death became complicated, because it became less than permanent.
People survived because of hope. It wasn’t the weapons or the army, it wasn’t the walls of the Havens or the medicines pumped out by the drug companies working to fight their own creation. It was hope. That simple.
That insidious.
Hope that one day, death would be simple again. Hope that it would change. That the dead could be cured—that the world could be cured.
Everyone has a moment. That defining, life-altering moment when everything hinges on hope.
It can kill people, to see it dashed. I’ve seen it before, in the Haven, and after.
You never know how you will face the end of hope. Until you have no choice but to face it.
Chapter 19. Found and Lost
I’ve lost people. You can’t survive in this world for twenty years without having lost people. But seeing him, lying there, a tiny round hole in his forehead—it’s different. Different from when Mom died, eight years ago.
Different from watching Hellspawn fall or the parade of deaths on Day Three every year.
I scream again, but this time, there is no strength behind it, or in me. My bones go limp, and I hit the ground. I close my eyes, willing it away, the vision.
Dustin looks nothing like the boy who woke in my bed the day Hellspawn fell. His skin is ravaged and gray with infection, his green eyes filmed with it. The muscles in his face have begun to sag. The neat hole in his forehead is rimmed with black, a sure sign the infection was moving too fast.
I take all of the details in, but nothing makes sense. Nothing is sinking in.
Dustin is here. Dustin is dead. Collin—
“
Collin,”
I gasp and lurch forward.
Hard hands catch me, tug me up. I meet gray eyes and see the understanding there. And the demand. Tears well in my eyes, and I gasp, struggling to keep from falling apart. “Collin,” I whimper, my brother’s name a plea.
Finn ignores me and motions to Ansliey. “Take her to the Jeep,” he orders. The Warden doesn’t protest, just takes my arm gently and leads me out as Finn talks to the morgue attendant. I can almost taste the questions on the back of my tongue. Distantly, I want to go back and demand to be included.
“Who was he?” Ansliey asks, the question a gentle intrusion. I blink at the Warden, the one I never expected.
“Who is the Thrasher?”
His eyebrows go up. But he doesn’t hesitate to answer, maybe because he just watched me crumple. “Kelsey Buchman. The daughter of President Buchman—she led several key assaults in the Battle for the East.”
The world spins. My gut heaves, and everything that still made sense—which wasn’t much—disappears.
Who the fuck
is
he?
Chapter 20. The Impossibility of Breaking
Ansliey doesn’t push as we wait for Finn. Maybe because after his little revelation, I retreat into silence, staring at the sky until sunspots dance in my eyes and my head spins. Maybe because just when he does gather the nerve to speak, Finn emerges from the morgue. I’m aware of him, but I don’t turn to look at him. I just stare at the sun, hoping that it will burn out the image of my dead lover.
“Can you take us to the barracks? I need to drop her off, and then I want to talk to the Aldermen,” Finn says.
“Don’t bother. I’m going with you,” I say, not moving.
“No.”
That does get a reaction. “Excuse me?”
“You need to go and get a hold of yourself,” he says dismissively.
Grief gives away to rage so quickly I can’t process it. I can only lean forward, into Finn’s face, and hiss, “He was mine. My lover. You have no right to say what I need now that he’s dead. Collin? He’s mine. My brother. Do you think for a minute he’s thinking about
The thing about the apocalypse is that it made life fragile. Life always was, but for those who had lived before, death was not an everyday occurrence. It was a tragedy, something that was actively feared. It was people’s greatest fear.
And then, death became complicated, because it became less than permanent.
People survived because of hope. It wasn’t the weapons or the army, it wasn’t the walls of the Havens or the medicines pumped out by the drug companies working to fight their own creation. It was hope. That simple.
That insidious.
Hope that one day, death would be simple again. Hope that it would change. That the dead could be cured—that the world could be cured.
Everyone has a moment. That defining, life-altering moment when everything hinges on hope.
It can kill people, to see it dashed. I’ve seen it before, in the Haven, and after.
You never know how you will face the end of hope. Until you have no choice but to face it.
Chapter 19. Found and Lost
I’ve lost people. You can’t survive in this world for twenty years without having lost people. But seeing him, lying there, a tiny round hole in his forehead—it’s different. Different from when Mom died, eight years ago.
Different from watching Hellspawn fall or the parade of deaths on Day Three every year.
I scream again, but this time, there is no strength behind it, or in me. My bones go limp, and I hit the ground. I close my eyes, willing it away, the vision.
Dustin looks nothing like the boy who woke in my bed the day Hellspawn fell. His skin is ravaged and gray with infection, his green eyes filmed with it. The muscles in his face have begun to sag. The neat hole in his forehead is rimmed with black, a sure sign the infection was moving too fast.
I take all of the details in, but nothing makes sense. Nothing is sinking in.
Dustin is here. Dustin is dead. Collin—
“
Collin,”
I gasp and lurch forward.
Hard hands catch me, tug me up. I meet gray eyes and see the understanding there. And the demand. Tears well in my eyes, and I gasp, struggling to keep from falling apart. “Collin,” I whimper, my brother’s name a plea.
Finn ignores me and motions to Ansliey. “Take her to the Jeep,” he orders. The Warden doesn’t protest, just takes my arm gently and leads me out as Finn talks to the morgue attendant. I can almost taste the questions on the back of my tongue. Distantly, I want to go back and demand to be included.
“Who was he?” Ansliey asks, the question a gentle intrusion. I blink at the Warden, the one I never expected.
“Who is the Thrasher?”
His eyebrows go up. But he doesn’t hesitate to answer, maybe because he just watched me crumple. “Kelsey Buchman. The daughter of President Buchman—she led several key assaults in the Battle for the East.”
The world spins. My gut heaves, and everything that still made sense—which wasn’t much—disappears.
Who the fuck
is
he?
Chapter 20. The Impossibility of Breaking
Ansliey doesn’t push as we wait for Finn. Maybe because after his little revelation, I retreat into silence, staring at the sky until sunspots dance in my eyes and my head spins. Maybe because just when he does gather the nerve to speak, Finn emerges from the morgue. I’m aware of him, but I don’t turn to look at him. I just stare at the sun, hoping that it will burn out the image of my dead lover.
“Can you take us to the barracks? I need to drop her off, and then I want to talk to the Aldermen,” Finn says.
“Don’t bother. I’m going with you,” I say, not moving.
“No.”
That does get a reaction. “Excuse me?”
“You need to go and get a hold of yourself,” he says dismissively.
Grief gives away to rage so quickly I can’t process it. I can only lean forward, into Finn’s face, and hiss, “He was mine. My lover. You have no right to say what I need now that he’s dead. Collin? He’s mine. My brother. Do you think for a minute he’s thinking about
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