THE BEAST ─ five hargreeves

[ 034 ] now would be a good time to call the police

XXXIV.

n o w w o u l d b e
a g o o d t i m e t o
c a l l t h e p o l i c e

—RELIEF POSSESSED ZARA. Enormous, exquisite relief.

At last, it was over.

There was no more fear—no more steeling of her nerves. Five was dead.

She had completed her mission.

And now she was alone, standing over Five's body, the crumpled form illuminated in moonlight. She was alone . . .

But what did that matter? She was alive.

She stumbled to the bottom of the hill and sat there—finally free, finally at peace.

No more fear . . .

. . .

—THE SUN WAS rising when Zara moved at last. Sheer reaction had kept her immobile. There had been no room for anything but the glorious sense of safety.

She realized now that she was hungry and tired. Mainly tired. She wanted to throw herself on a bed and sleep and sleep and sleep . . .

Tomorrow, maybe, her mother would come rescue her—but she didn't really mind. She didn't mind staying here, succumbing to the apocalypse. Now that she had completed her mission, now that Five was dead, it would be okay.

Oh!—glorious, glorious peace.

She got to her feet and glanced up at the Umbrella Academy.

Nothing to be afraid of any longer. No failure waiting for her! Just an ordinary, well-built old house. And yet, a little earlier in the day, she might not have been able to look at it without shivering.

Fear . . . what a strange thing fear was.

Well, it was over now. She had conquered—had triumphed over the most deadly peril. By her own quick-wittedness, she had turned the tables on her would-be destroyer.

She began to walk up towards the house.

The sun was rising, the sky to the east was streaked with red and orange. The rain had stopped. The clouds were gone. It was beautiful.

Zara thought: "The whole night might've been a dream . . ."

How tired she was—terribly tired. Her limbs ached, her eyelids were drooping. Not to be afraid any longer . . . to sleep. Sleep . . . sleep . . . sleep. To sleep safely for once since she had come to this miserable town.

How nice it was to be left all alone . . .

She smiled to herself.

Zara went in at the front door. The Academy, too, felt strangely peaceful. Should she go into the kitchen and get herself something to eat? She hesitated a moment and then decided against it. She was really too tired . . .

She paused at the grand staircase. There was a piano over there, a little further down the foyer.

Zara went to it. She sat down and opened the lid, running her hands lightly over the keys. It had evidently been kept in tune.