Page 43 of The Infinite Glade (The Maze Cutter #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Deadheads Redux

O range stood in a soldier’s stance on Minho’s right, and on his left, Kit held two guns, each one pointed at a soldier behind Roxy.

Adrenaline had rushed through Minho’s body, just enough to walk to the center of the Glade.

His wounds and face were covered by the Junior Grief Bearer’s cloak.

The Remnants would never tell the difference.

All he could taste and smell was the gasoline deep in his throat.

But with Orange on one side of him and Kit on the other, he could die happy, now.

The chanting had slowed, then stopped. Silence returned. Despite all that talk about killing the Godhead, no one had rushed forward to actually do it. Minho spoke into the quiet, cool air.

“You once called me a traitor, for leaving after my cliff ceremony. But I returned. And when I did, I brought to you what even the Grief Bearers above couldn’t see.

The one true Godhead, the one ultimate thing we’ve been taught to destroy.

Well, there she is. You can call me whatever you want, but I’m still one of you.

” He lowered the hood of his cloak with his right hand; his left arm hugged the gun under his cloak. Just in case.

An Orphan soldier—the one with ears too big for his face—held Alexandra by her long, luxurious hair. Or what had been. Now it was filthy and tangled.

Minho pointed at her. “She’s the Godhead.

All that’s left of it, anyway. You have the honor to kill her if you’d like.

” He knew every soldier there would have fought to be the one chosen to kill the Godhead.

But if he could get Ears to do it, the one who’d led the charge against Minho and Orange as traitors, then he could get the rest of them to see the truth, too. But no one moved.

Minho sighed, as loudly as he could manage.

“We’ve waited our whole lives to kill the Godhead, and now you want to wait?

Sit here and wait for the Grief Bearers to tell you what to do?

” He held in his immense urge to cough and pushed his lungs to speak louder.

“You’re good soldiers. Sharp. Disciplined.

Smart.” He looked as many in the face as possible, his vision still a bit blurry.

“You’ve lost the ability to think for yourselves.

You’ve killed thousands in the search for the Godhead, but now that she’s right in front of you . . . nothing. You can’t do it. Why?”

“He’s right . . .” a soldier nearby murmured.

Orange threw the last spark into the kindling. “We’ve fought for this moment. Kill the Godhead and we’d be free. Well, here we are.” Her voice boomed, echoed throughout the Glade. “Kill the Godhead!” She raised her weapon high above her head in a war cry. “Kill the Godhead!”

Others joined in. The chant returned. Confidence returned to the faces of the soldiers. Minho knew that this time around, they’d actually do it. They’d actually end Alexandra once and for all.

“Kill the Godhead!” All the soldiers chanted it as loudly as they could.

Minho simply nodded, setting the precedence of his command.

The soldiers swarmed like ants.

The Goddess Romanov couldn’t move as the blade—the first of many—slowly sank into her skin, cutting layer by layer.

But she moved her eyes toward Roxy, who looked away.

If Alexandra’s arms hadn’t been tied behind her, she might have reached for Sadina in the distance.

Might have called her name. Might have said so many things that needed to be said.

Her vision buzzed into a static red, and then a bright flash of crimson light. A color so bright it looked like a sun flare, exploding in the sky, blinding her. Another knife stabbed her, the blade in her throat, piercing deep. All her muscles fell loose.

She pondered the Evolution amongst the pain and the light.

The Flare virus, mutated and expanded within her mind, had almost changed the universe forever.

Almost. Almost. She pondered an infinity of thought and knowledge; she pondered it all.

And when it vanished, when her mind emptied, there was only peace.

The sacred site of the Maze, such a fitting place for a Goddess to die.

She had only one regret: dying in a lowly Pilgrim’s cloak. On some level, beyond the light and the darkness that waited, the pettiness of the regret brought her a final and wondrous joy.

She became weightless, a strange view of the Glade suddenly filling her vision, as if seen through a thick glass. The center of the Glade spun around her, the Maze in the background, all of it spinning and spinning and spinning. The world was a blur, a haunted smear of color.

She blinked three times, then entered the Infinite Glade of Death.

Soldiers were bred to fulfill orders, and the war against the Godhead had been won.

But the war to take control of the Remnant Nation had just begun.

Minho had once heard a rumor that decapitated heads could still hear, think, and feel for up to twenty seconds after being cut from their body.

The odds were slim, yeah. But everyone knew about the proverbial chicken with its head cut off.

Just in case, Minho placed his boot right in front of the Goddess’ head, just in case Alexandra’s brain still had firing neurons and synapses.

He shouted to the surrounding soldiers, building his case for leadership with every single action and word.

“May the Godhead’s death be long, and her name never mentioned again, for the Evolution . . . is ours now!”

He swore he saw one of Alexandra’s eyes blink before a Remnant lifted her decapitated head high in victory. He swung it around for all to see. Cheers erupted from both Remnants and Pilgrims, alike.

“We did it, Minho,” Orange whispered to him, placing her hand on his shoulder gently.

“ You did it, Orange.” He owed her his life. “You definitely did it.” He took in the celebration going on all around him.

“I thought you were dead!” Roxy cried from below, still kneeling next to the bottom half of Alexandra’s body.

“Me too . . .” he replied, wishing so badly that she hadn’t experienced the Remnants’ heinous acts of war. Embarrassment for who he really was rushed to his face, but Roxy looked at Minho and gave him a loving smile.

“My boy, come here so I can hug you.”

For the first time in his life, Minho wanted to cry.

She had watched him instigate a brutal murder, right in front of her eyes.

She’d seen him bloodied and uglied by war, doing the evil means to reach an end he could just barely conceive—a new Nation of Remnants, under his control.

All of this, and she still cared for him as much as ever.

He cut her combat ties and gave her the longest hug of his life.

An overwhelming sense of warmth rushed through his body, along with an overwhelming amount of pain.

He saw Kit nearby and hailed him to come over.

“Roxy . . . this is Kit, the strongest, bravest soldier in the whole Nation. My little brother, Kit.”

“Oh!” Roxy pulled Kit into another long hug.

She looked at Minho like he’d just given her the gift of life.

He’d taken more lives than he could count as a soldier, but introducing Kit to Roxy felt like he’d given them both something that no one could ever take away from either of them.

Another son for a mother; a mother for another orphan.

Kit smiled shyly, but had no words.

“Roxy makes the best stew, Kit,” Orange said, adjusting her gun strap to a relaxed position. “She’s a real good mom to all of us.”

Dominic pushed through the crowd of Remnants to get to Minho.

“What the hell?” the boy asked, and Minho understood it to be one of those questions that wasn’t meant to have any real answer. He probably looked like a monster in more ways than one to Dominic.

“I’m sorry,” Minho said, not completely sure why.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Dom hugged him without warning, and Minho was too proud to tell him how much it hurt.

Orange slapped the boy’s shoulder. “Careful, Dom. He’s got some broken bones.” She looked around the Glade. “We’ve got to get you to a combat medic . . . but I don’t see one . . .” Any medic on this war mission was likely gathered close to the Bearers of Grief, the weakest people of the Nation.

“They’re probably back with Griever Ayes.” Minho winced at the thought of facing them again.

Orange’s face grew fierce. “We’ll take you. We’ll all take you there and kill every last one of the Grief Bearers if we have to.” She hoisted Minho up straight.

“Hold on, there’s something I need to do first.” Minho coughed as he bent over to lift Alexandra’s blood-soaked Pilgrim’s cloak.

He shook the cloak out until the Book of Newt fell from within its folds.

He grabbed it carefully, sure not to get any of his own blood on it.

“Where’s Sadina?” he asked Dominic. His ribs screamed and burned with every twist and turn of his body.

“Here I am . . .” a soft voice whispered from behind.

Minho turned around to see a terrified Sadina. “I’m sorry about the Godhead. I’m sorry for everything you had to see. I really think she brainwashed . . . she did it to all of us.” He wanted to apologize for so much more. He handed her the book along with his sympathy.

Sadina took the Book of Newt and folded her arms around it.

“Thank you.” She looked at Kit and Roxy, Dominic and Orange.

“I’m sorry, too. I really let her suck me in.

From what I overheard the Pilgrims say, she was a horrible person.

” She tilted her head at Minho. “I know that you were just trying to protect me. All this time. Thank you.” She cried as she gave Minho a gentle hug.

“Can we get you to a combat med now?” Orange asked over the many sounds of Pilgrims and Remnants mixing in the Glade.

“No. Not yet.” This was far too great of an opportunity to plant more seeds. A Revolution of Evolution had begun, and he couldn’t leave without telling the Nation what awaited them.

“Soldiers . . .” His voice faltered. It seemed like he’d already exhausted his last bits of energy.

“Hey, listen up!” Dominic shouted to get the people’s attention.

Minho lifted his gun in the air with Dom’s help, fired a single shot.

The Glade quieted to complete silence. “Soldiers! The Remnant Nation was built to destroy this city . . . and now that their mission is complete, what do you think they’ll do with you afterward?

They’ll destroy you, too. Just like they always have.

” He cleared his throat, willed his lungs to draw strength as soldiers around him murmured.

“They entertain themselves with destruction. If you want to continue to fight, then fight the real enemy—the Grief Bearers above who’ve placed you in the living prison you’ve always been trapped in. ”

Most soldiers raised their weapons in agreement, but a few others looked unsure of what they were hearing.

He continued. “There’s freedom out there.

There’s a whole world of people, places, and sounds you’ve never even been allowed to make or hear .

. . like laughter and singing. There’s feelings that you’ve never felt and sensations you’ve never touched—like the sand under your bare feet on the coast of the ocean and the water cooling your legs.

I’ll take you, I’ll show you. And I promise you it’s better than all your rules and regulations, or any level named Hell you leave behind.

” He watched as the tide of support turned ever more in his favor.

“What about the City of Gods?” one doubting Remnant asked.

“It’s ours, now! Why would we leave!” another shouted. Orange shifted to a soldier’s stance. But the naysayers were already the minority, by a long shot.

“Let these Pilgrims keep their history.” Minho looked around.

The Maze and the Glade deserved to stay sacred to those people.

They’d been through enough. “We can, and we will, create our own story. One of courage and creation instead of constant, incessant destruction!” His lungs burned and his chest felt splintered into pieces.

He wasn’t sure what else to say to convince these fellow soldiers to change their fate.

To be something more than orphans who owned nothing. It was up to them, now.

Orange raised her gun, but this time, in place of Kill the Godhead , she shouted, “Free the Remnants!” And just like that, all at once, the Orphans from all corners of the Glade had their new mission.

They raised their guns and chanted along with her in unison.

Free the Remnants. Free the Remnants. Free the Remnants.

Dominic joined in. Roxy and Kit cheered. Sadina raised the Book of Newt like a beacon.

Minho’s entire family chanted as one.

“Free the Remnants!”

Everything was coming together. So well, in fact, that he thought maybe they had time to take a little ride in that Berg he’d found.

Some unfinished business . . .