by Travis Brett
“Not every Adrenalite." Roman gestured to Sparks. "He spared my life when he had every reason to kill me."
"I’m sure he’s an absolute model citizen."
"No. Not even close. But there are worse monsters out there." Roman raised his pistol and pointed it at Juliette. "People like you."
"Wait!” Juliette took a step back. “I'm just doing what's best for Legacy!"
Roman cocked the hammer. "Maybe so. However, truth be told, this city is one hell of a shit-hole, and I don't give a damn about it. But Tan was my friend, and you killed him.”
Roman pulled the trigger.
As he did, someone slammed into him from behind. He was thrown forward. The bullet caught Juliette in the cheek, spraying blood, but it wasn’t a fatal shot.
On instinct, Roman turned his stumble into a dash to the side, then spun and faced his aggressor.
Fucking hell . . . It was a huge bastard. He must have been hiding in the shadows behind Roman. That’s why Sparks was trying to speak! He was trying to warn me. And he wasn’t pointing at me, he was pointing behind me!
The militia charged. Roman did the same. And a second gunshot echoed.
* * *
Sparks threw himself forward just as Juliette fired. The bullet grazed the top of his head as it passed. He rolled to the side, dodging the next shot that pinged off the floor. On his back, he kicked with both legs, catching Juliette in the shin and buckling her leg. He twisted away, not staying still long enough for her to get a clean shot, and leapt to his feet.
Juliette retreated and Sparks charged at her. He was a split second too late avoiding her third shot; a sudden explosion of pain came from his right ear as the bullet took if off.
With his hands bound, there was no point trying for a clean fight, so Sparks slammed into Juliette, shoulder first, and sent her flying. She landed on her back. Sparks stepped over her. She fired. This time he was ready and he ducked aside and the bullet went wide.
He leapt onto her. Grasping her by the forearm, Sparks put all his strength into snapping her bone in half. Even though he was deactivated, she was frail enough that he knew he could do it. With a sickening crunch, he succeeded. Juliette screamed and her pistol fell from limp fingers.
Sparks punched her in the face. “I told you you’d regret bringing me here!” he yelled. “Death to the fucking Captain!”
Juliette’s other arm flew forward. Suddenly she was holding a knife, and that knife was deep in Sparks’ stomach. A moment later, the pain came.
* * *
Roman heard Sparks scream.
He ducked a punch and retreated two steps, disengaging from the fight to glance at the boy. Sparks was doubled over. Juliette twisted out from beneath him as he clutched his stomach. Blood poured through the boy’s fingers.
Fucking damn it. He needs to—
The militia lunged, and Roman didn't have time to finish his thought as he spun to the side. He slammed his elbow into the militia's ribs. The brute didn't even flinch. Roman had to side-step again as the knife flew past. This time it sliced a gash across Roman's chest. He staggered back, gasping, switching to a defensive stance.
The militia didn't give him a chance to recover. Roman barely avoided the next two swipes, quickly losing ground. He was faster, but the militia had the advantage in size, strength and reach. Another step backwards. Then two more.
He needed time to think. Roman dashed past his opponent, dived to the ground and rolled under the steel table. Once on the other side, he stood and spun around. The militia charged around the table. Roman darted the other way, keeping the table separating them.
Where was Juliette?
To his right. She slowly advanced, cradling her right arm against her chest while the other held a knife.
The table couldn't keep them both away. Roman retreated into the shadows. If he could just lead them away from Sparks, then he could call out, and they wouldn't be able to stop the boy before—
The militia roared, charging forward. Roman cursed as the knife scored a glancing strike against his forearm.
From the other side, Juliette closed in on him.
He was trapped.
* * *
Sparks convulsed. He was deathly cold. The only warmth came from the blood rapidly pouring out his guts. He couldn't seem to breathe. His hands shook as he struggled to press the wound closed, but Juliette had twisted the knife inside him, widening the gash too much for him to deal with.
Oh hell no, please . . . I can’t be killed by her . . . Anybody but her . . .
His spasms became a constant shuddering as his body went into shock. If only he was activated, then his body would be able to survive this. If only he had a needle.
Oh.
Suddenly he realized what an idiot he had been.
Of fucking course.
* * *
“Wait!” Roman cried, throwing up his hands in surrender. His back was pressed against the wall. He now had two more cuts from the knife, in addition to the ones on his chest and forearm. “You win. I give up.”
Juliette scowled. “Too late for that. I offered you a chance to be reasonable, and you fucking shot me.”
“Yeah, well, you should have known I’m not a reasonable man. Never have been.”
“You’re right about that.”
“I guess there’s a part of me that always needs to be pissed off.” Roman’s gaze darting between Juliette and the militia. Which one would strike first?
“It’s not a part that I’ll miss.” Juliette raised her knife.
But she paused when she noticed the light coming from behind her.
Blue light.
* * *
Sparks smashed the empty activation needle against the floor. He had ripped a sleeve off Roman’s coat and wrapped it around his wound. He still needed to stitch it closed, and soon, but now he was activated his body was no longer in shock, and he could ignore the pain. He could fight again.
It had taken him too long to realize — of course Roman kept his activation needles in his coat. That’s why Roman had tossed his coat at Sparks. He had created a backup plan.
Finally, Roman had given Sparks his own needle.
Juliette and the militia turned to him in unison. Juliette’s face fell. “Oh . . . shit.”
The militia ran at him, yelling.
Sparks grinned. This was going to be fun.
* * *
Roman was glad he had bothered to take the activation needle from the room upstairs. Really, really, fucking glad.
He tackled Juliette to the floor and knocked the knife out of her hand. She went limp beneath him — she knew she didn’t have a chance, not anymore. Roman punched her in the face, again and again.
When her nose was broken and bleeding and she was spitting teeth, he finally stopped.
“You win,” Juliette said faintly. “You’re going to release monsters into my city, and you’ve destroyed the only Ministry that could save it. Congratulations. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”
She reached out with her good arm, picked up her knife, and raised it up.
Then pulled it down towards her chest.
Roman caught her by the wrist, stopping the blade just as it pierced her skin.
“Oh no you fucking don’t,” he said. “You don’t get to take your own life.” He pulled the knife from her grip. “I’ve already claimed it.”
He shoved the knife into Juliette’s heart.
45
It was over.
The boy flinched as Roman finished closing his wound — he had found the device the militia used to staple the Adrenalite’s chest wounds shut after they had been hooked to the machine. Three of the steel staples now held Sparks’ skin together. It was enough to stop the worst of the bleeding, barely. Roman picked up Juliette’s knife and thoroughly wiped the blood from it, then went to the lantern and held the blade over the flame.
Sparks’ face was pale. “You came for me. You—”
“Try n
ot to talk,” Roman cut him off. “Focus on breathing. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“But—”
“I’ve just risked my life to save you. If you die now, I’ll be very pissed. Understand?”
Sparks nodded.
When it was hot enough, Roman removed the blade from the flame. Sparks cringed as the knife neared his skin, his light pulsed a frantic, quick tempo. Roman pressed the knife against the wound for two breaths while the boy cursed through clenched teeth. Roman caught the stench of burnt skin. Then it was finished.
Next, Roman ripped off a section of his shirt and wrapped it around Sparks’ forehead. It made a makeshift bandage to cover his bleeding ear. Or half an ear, at least.
When he was satisfied the boy would be okay, Roman turned to Juliette’s corpse. He could barely believe that she was dead. He had done it. Until the moment he had buried the blade into her and watched her die, he wasn’t sure she actually could die.
So . . . that was it. She was dead. So was the Adrenalite who had — potentially — killed Stevens. Roman had got his revenge. It was over.
Now what?
Roman didn’t know the answer to that. He had never considered the after. He supposed the first step was to get out of here and regroup with Ruby and Caleb.
“Let’s go.” Roman picked up Juliette’s gun, shoving it into his belt. He took Sparks by the arm and helped him to his feet. The boy grimaced with the movement, but his condition seemed to be quickly stabilizing. His light’s pulse gradually transitioned from weak and erratic, to longer and brighter pulses as Roman led them out of the room and back to the stairs. Roman paused on the landing. His gaze switching between the flight of steps leading down, and the set leading up.
Where was Candle? Surely he should have come back by now.
Something must have happened to him.
The real question was: did Roman care? He’d killed Juliette and saved Sparks, that was all he had come here for. If he left now, maybe he could leave behind the problem of Candle, and he wouldn’t have to help release a half-dozen Adrenalites back into Legacy.
Sparks looked up at Roman expectantly, still leaning on him for support. “Now what?”
Roman frowned. “I hate that question.”
* * *
Ruby listened to the footsteps draw closer, barely daring to breathe. Her fingers curled around the handle of a crossbow. She had crawled between desks, careful not to make any noise until she found the weapon. It was laying on the chest of its previous owner, who was missing his head. She heard the militia cross the room to the open elevator, and she had hoped he would climb down. No such luck. He began to walk between the desks, searching for her.
“Come out, whore,” he taunted. His footsteps were slow, unhurried. Now they were coming straight for her.
Ruby had nowhere else to hide.
She sat up, struggling to lift the crossbow with one hand, and rested its end on the edge of the desk. With only one hand — and an injured one, at that — she couldn’t aim properly. The militia was five-yards away. His expression dropped when he saw the crossbow.
Ruby fired, but the quarrel went wide, missing him by a full two feet.
Well . . . fuck.
The militia grinned, striding towards her. He raised his machete. Ruby didn’t bother trying to crawl away. She wouldn’t die like that. She would die facing her killer, scowling at them with all the defiance she had.
Don’t let them see your fear. If you show it, then you’ll never stop yourself feeling it. I won’t die afraid.
A gunshot.
The militia fell with a bullet hole between the eyes.
Stunned, Ruby turned to see Roman climb out of the elevator, a smoking pistol in his hand. He had cuts running down his chest and arm, and he looked exhausted as all hell, but he was alive. His eyes locked onto Ruby’s. “You promised that—”
“Oh shut up.” Ruby broke into a smile. She let the crossbow drop as she lay down, both too exhausted and too flooded with relief to stay upright. “You saved me.”
“It was my turn.”
“This doesn’t make us even.” Despite everything, Ruby found herself laughing. “You’ve still got a lot of catching up to do.”
Roman knelt beside her. He gasped when he noticed her arm. “How—”
“It’s a long story. Did you kill Juliette? Is Sparks okay?”
He nodded.
Ruby smiled. “We did it. We actually did it.”
“Yeah. I guess we did. Now let’s get out of here.”
Ruby’s smiled vanished. “Um . . . about that. There’s one last problem.”
Roman glanced towards the doors, catching her meaning. He shrugged. “I’ve dealt with enough shit today. I think I’ll leave this to our new friends.”
“Friends . . .?” Ruby craned her head to look past Roman, towards the elevator shaft. An Adrenalite stepped out, glowing blue, she didn’t recognize him. Then another appeared. In total, five exited before Candle did. He glanced at her, offering a quick nod of his head. She returned the gesture.
Sparks came last. The boy looked even worse than she felt. One hand clutched at his stomach, which was covered in blood. But he took one look at Ruby and grinned. “Did you miss me?”
Ruby’s heart sank. Caleb. I’m going to have to tell Sparks that he’s dead. But . . . not right now. “Maybe a little, I guess,” she said with as much of a smile as she could manage.
Candle led the Adrenalites, excluding Sparks, out of the Ministry. Ruby heard them shout as they charged across the square, followed by screaming from the remaining militia. She knew how one-sided that fight would be.
Roman hadn’t taken his eyes from her. He wiped the blood off his hands and reached down, gingerly running his hand down her side, where her clothes were ripped and torn from her fall. His face filled when relief when he didn’t find any more serious wounds.
“I’m . . . I’m glad you’re alive,” he said.
“Of course I’m alive. If I died, who would be left to tell you that you’re an idiot?”
“When I came up and saw you . . .” he trailed off, his eyes going distant. After a moment he seemed to remember where he was. “I saw you, about to be killed, and you didn’t even look concerned. Weren’t you afraid?”
“I’m never—” Ruby stopped herself before she could say afraid.
Don’t let him see your fear. If you show it, you’ll never stop yourself feeling it.
Oh, to hell with that.
“Of course, you idiot,” she said, moving her head to rest against him. “I was fucking terrified.”
46
Sparks found Caleb’s body. Ruby had told him what he was going to find, but he hadn’t believed her, not really. Even now, standing over Caleb, he could barely believe it.
Four arrows. That was what it had taken to kill him. Sparks felt a brief surge of pride for his ex-owner. He had been strong — a good fighter, and that was important. That meant something.
But he was more than a good fighter. He was a good owner. And a good friend.
Sparks knelt, not caring about the blood that soaked his knees. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have gone rogue.”
Caleb, of course, didn’t respond.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t believe you,” Sparks continued. His throat felt tight. “I thought all you cared about was money. But you came here for me. And you died. For me.”
Sparks took Caleb’s hand in his, and cried.
It was strange. He had seen so many people die, most of them he had killed himself, but he had never shed a tear for any of them. Caleb was different. Sparks knelt there, crying until the tears wouldn’t come anymore — even though he wanted them to never stop. After that, he continued to kneel beside his friend. It felt wrong to leave. As if by staying there, Sparks could keep Caleb alive, in some small way. But Caleb was dead. He wasn’t going anywhere. Sparks had to be the one to leave.
He stood up, wiped his eye
s, unsure what he was meant to do now. Roman had told him he was free, but Sparks didn’t know what free people did. There was nobody left to fight, and what was the point of being the best fighter in Legacy without anyone to fight.
He looked across Reformation Square. Roman and Ruby were sitting at the far corner. He saved me, Sparks thought as he looked at Roman. He could have let Juliette shoot me, but he didn’t.
Maybe he’s not an asshole.
Well, not a complete asshole, at least.
Sparks turned to the Security Ministry and saw what Candle and his men were doing there. He smiled. He still had no idea what he was going to do from now on, but that seemed like a damn good place to start.
* * *
“Are you ready?” Roman asked.
Ruby had an arrow in her mouth, biting down on it as she nodded.
She was lying on her back. Roman knelt over her, holding down her bicep with his knee, and her broken arm in both of his. He had made a makeshift splint from a broken desk leg and a quarrel, lashing them together with a length of the rope Ruby had used to climb from the window with earlier.
Ruby grunted a dozen curses as Roman forced her shattered bone back into place and secured it with the splint. When he was finished, he put his hand on her shoulder while her breath came in staggered bursts and her face was screwed up in pain. He felt helpless, frustrated at not being able to help more. He took the time to glance at his own wounds. Fortunately, none were too deep. He had been lucky. Damn lucky.
Eventually, Ruby calmed down. She took the arrow from her mouth and sat on the lip of the sidewalk beside Roman. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I won’t be much use as an archer anymore.”
