Andrew Klavan - The Final Hour

It was over, like Rose said. No more Homelanders trying to kill me. No more police trying to arrest me. No more days and nights on the run, alone, afraid, confused about who I was and what was happening.

“Where are we going now?” I asked Rose.

He glanced over at me. For a second, I thought he might start laughing again. But no chance. “Home, Charlie,” he said. “You, anyway-you’re going home.”

Before I could fully comprehend what Rose had said, the elevator touched down. The doors drew open. And suddenly, lights began flashing in my eyes and people started shouting at me. There was a crowd of reporters gathered in the hospital lobby. Taking pictures and video. Calling out questions. A confusing chaos of light and noise.

“Can you tell us what happened, Charlie?”

“What was it like infiltrating the Homelanders?”

“What happened in the subway New Year’s Eve?”

A couple of patrolmen guided the shouting reporters out of my way. Rose took me by the arm with his free hand. The reporters went on shouting at me as I pushed past them.

They would go on shouting at me for days, in fact. But the stories that were on the news were never the real story, never the whole story. Still, they were enough to clear my name so people understood I hadn’t killed my friend or betrayed my country or any of the other stuff I was accused of. That was enough for me. That was more than enough.

When I got past the reporters, I saw the front doors of the hospital. They were all made of glass and the sun was shining through them. It was like walking into a pool of light. I started toward it.

But before I got there, I saw a long black car pull up in the circular driveway outside. Even before the car came to a full stop, its doors started opening. I stood still and stared as my mom and dad and Beth and my sister, Amy, and my friends Josh and Rick and Miler all poured out of the car and started hurrying to the hospital entrance.

As I went on standing there, amazed, the reporters pushed back toward me. The police made them keep their distance, but they formed a half circle around me. Their cameras flashed again, and their bright lights shone on me, and their shouted questions became one loud rush of voices.

At the same time, my family and my friends came through the front doors and hurried to me. Beth reached me first and I threw my arms around her and held her close and then the others were all around me and then…

But you know, really, there’s nothing else I can say. There are things you can describe in life and things you just can’t. There are dangers and adventures, miseries and fears that you can tell about and then… well, then there’s home and joy and love-and those are beyond the power of words to describe.

So I guess this story is over.