Free Someone to Remember Me: The Anniversary Edition by Brendan Mancilla

station. Deciding that it was safe enough to speak without fear of him overhearing, Null asked, “Where’d you pick that one up?”
    Eight’s answer was swift and disenchanted. “Apparently, an artist just had to survive the apocalypse.”

Chapter Four:
    Timeless Knowledge
     
    Giving up sounded better right now than it had this morning. Seven watched as the heatless sun began its downward arc, well past its prime. Though it illuminated the landscape of spires and roads, the air felt as chill and unwelcoming as it had at dawn. Eight’s pace kept her a few steps ahead of Seven and while he stared at the back of her head, he conceded that a few good things had happened across a horrible day.
    He appreciated Null’s wealth of knowledge. And Twenty’s dark humor. His thoughts returned to Eight, who was something different entirely. Glancing down at his bandaged hand, willing the ache to go away, he wondered how it was possible that he felt as if they were lifelong friends after a matter of hours.
    Eight’s persistence went unfazed by their worsening situation. She was determined to forge ahead and Seven committed to following her there, to keeping a wary eye over his shoulder on her behalf. As they had throughout the day, they carried on in silence. There was too much and too little to discuss. What else could be said about Haven, the great dead city? What else could be said about themselves, the amnesiacs that survived an extinction? What could they guess at or theorize about that wouldn’t make them sound insane?
    At least two hours after they departed the wreckage of the complex called the Voice, they had trekked along a fifteen-lane highway to the brink of exhaustion. The silence that imposed itself on the group stemmed from weariness rather than annoyance, and only when Seven thought about calling for a rest did they see the first signs of the Great Library.
    From their considerable distance the library was still a formidable sight. A circular building rose out of the center of a stone plaza, decorated with golden pillars that encircled it. It was intact and undamaged, enough to make Seven’s heart hammer wildly in his chest.
    Everyone, Twenty included, shared a celebratory exchange at their arrival. For once, luck weighed in their favor. Seven opened his mouth to speak but the sound of his voice was cut off by another familiar noise.
    The roar was so close that Seven knew the fight was over. Behind them, pieces of the highway erupted into the sky, propelled by the force of the monster breaking through the bottom of the road. The four survivors clustered together, unanimous in their acceptance of an unkind fate, watching the monster haul itself through the breach in the pavement.
    A magnificent cloud of shimmering dust, a pale rust color, spilled out of the break in the middle of the road. It pooled and congealed, as fluid as water, coalescing into a singular body of airborne death. Specks of light flashed beneath its surface as the ground trembled, as if the cloud were stamping the road with a thousand heavy feet. Roaring triumphantly, the bulk of the monster rose above Seven and his companions. High above the heads of its prey, the monster issued a third, victorious, roar. It collapsed upon them, smashing into Seven and the others like a flood, drowning out the twilight in a jubilant attempt to murder them.
     
    Somewhere in the sandstorm, Seven became aware of himself again. Yet his awareness was dimmed, restrained by the sensation that something was studying him. Scanning him. All the dark spots in his memory were occupied by an intrusive force that sought answers as eagerly as he had. Seven’s mind greeted the monster’s inquisition with images. Sporadic at first, nonsensical certainly. Flashes, sights, and sounds poured into his mind before Seven, emerging from the hazy fog of memory and time, found himself standing outside the Great Library while the luminous moon shone in the midnight sky.
    He stood