“They’re dead?” Imani’s voice was soft.
“They are,” Stella said.
Imani faced Stella. “You know things now, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Stella said. “But I can’t control it. I can’t make whatever it is tell me stuff. Things just come to me, and so far when I know things, they come true. Like I know we have to leave here. No later than tomorrow at dawn. You, Mercury, Gemma, and me. If Jenny and Karen want to come, that’s fine. If anyone else wants to come that’s fine too. But we have to leave.”
“Why?” Imani asked. “Why the hell should we go on?”
Mercury spoke the words etched on her heart. “So we make a world where this kind of shit never happens again.”
Imani’s dark eyes searched hers. “Can that even be done?”
“I don’t know, but I want to try. I want to fight for something better than the mess that got us here,” said Mercury.
“It can be done.” Stella’s voice took on a soft, rhythmic cadence. “We can’t change the entire world. We can make a new one for us—for people like us. A world that sings with our voices. A world that is better, brighter, more beautiful than what was before.”
“What does that even mean?” Imani asked.
Stella shook herself like she’d just come in from the rain and said, “Hell if I know, but I want to give it a try.”
“I do too,” said Mercury. She looked at her friend. “Imani, will you choose to live? Will you come with us?”
“Yes. But I can’t promise I’ll be much help building this dream world of yours. I’ll always be looking toward San Diego.”
“That’s okay,” said Stella. “We need someone who can see beyond us.”