She closes her eyes, holding the gun steady for me—but not before I see her in there, as broken and shattered as I am, begging for a way out. For any way out.
I can’t pull the trigger.
Then pounding footsteps break the silence, and I spin around to face the tunnel. Turlough Doyle is the first into the cavern, and he stops two steps in, so the next man through—Sean—collides with him. McBride’s the last one to appear.
For an instant the five of us are frozen in place. Turlough shatters the stillness with a shout, stumbling forward to drop to his knees beside Mike’s body, grabbing his husband’s shoulder and turning him over. He gives a broken moan, curling over Mike to bury his face against his shirt.
Then Sean sees Fergal. My cousin goes perfectly still, suddenly carved from stone. Even in the dim light of the cavern, I can see it when the blood drains from his face.
When McBride sees Jubilee, he tenses. Turlough’s sobs almost cover the noise of McBride pulling his Gleidel out of its holster. “Move away, Cormac,” he says, his voice low and level, absolutely calm. His face is empty and cold, as though the emotions that ought to be there have fled from the sight in front of him.
If I can’t pull the trigger, McBride certainly can. I want to drop Jubilee’s gun and push past McBride to get to Sean, but my body’s shaking, won’t listen to my orders.
McBride moves forward and shoves me aside as though I weigh nothing at all. I hit the floor hard, the jolt of pain coursing through the same path as my grief, eclipsing it for a fraction of a second. McBride stops in front of Jubilee, lifting his Gleidel, mouth curving to a slow, faint smile that only I can see. “Captain Chase,” he murmurs, very soft. Just for us. Angling his gun, ready to put a shot straight between her eyes; she doesn’t move. “Here’s to peace on Avon.”
His finger shifts on the trigger, and I surge to my feet, lunging at McBride and colliding with him; his shot goes wide, the scream of the Gleidel shattering my ears.
“Lower your weapon,” I gasp before he can try again. My voice sounds different, my throat burning for each word. “There’s something happening that’s bigger than this—we need her.”
Recovering his balance, McBride’s starting to lose his veneer of calm. “Get away from her before I go right through you.” He keeps the barrel of his Gleidel pointing square at my chest, his other hand coming up to steady it.
Behind me, Jubilee stirs, her skin scraping against the stone. “Just let him have me,” she whispers, the sound sharp as shattered glass.
“No.” It’s like someone else is speaking. Someone above this hatred, this grief; someone who doesn’t care that the sound of Jubilee’s voice makes me sick, that her betrayal has broken something beyond repair. Someone who cares only that I need her to save my planet.
Sean gropes for his own gun, hands shaking violently as he holds it at his side, uncertain. “Flynn,” he calls, hoarse. Straight from his lips to my heart. “Don’t do this.”
“What did she offer you?” McBride demands, voice thick with disdain. “You’ve always been weak, Cormac, but even I thought you were better than this. To give up your family for a taste of a trodaire.”
I still can’t take my eyes off of Sean. His chest is heaving, the gun trembling wildly now.
Hands shaking, I lift Jubilee’s gun, flicking off the safety. The soft whine of the battery powering up fills the cave. For a moment, everything is still. Turlough, hunched over Mike’s body. Sean, standing still, his eyes on my face. Jubilee, eyes closed, waiting for an end. For an endless instant, there’s only the choice I’ve just made.
Then it’s over. “Traitor,” McBride whispers as I aim it at him, and the word goes through me like a knife.
I look past McBride, my eyes falling instead on Sean, still standing with his gun at his side. “This won’t bring Fergal back. This wasn’t her, it was the Fury. It’s real. You’ve trusted me all our lives. Trust me now.”
The world narrows, and all I can see is my cousin’s face, and all the years behind it, the cocky smiles, the shared grief, the quiet moments without any words. He’ll see. He’ll recognize the truth, that the Fury’s real; that our planet is diseased and the madness could come for any of us now, that Jubilee is our only hope to find answers. He knows me. He knows me.
Then Sean lifts his gun—and aims it at me. His red-rimmed eyes meet mine for half a second before my cousin pulls the trigger.
The shot goes wide, screaming through the cavern and breaking the spell.
McBride roars and steps forward, Gleidel trained on Jubilee once more. I dive for her, grabbing her arm and dragging her to her feet, my body between her and McBride. The laser shrieks. I keep my iron grip on Jubilee’s hand and lunge for the passageway behind us.
My feet know the way, taking over from eyes blinded by images. Fergal’s behind me, so unfamiliar in his stillness, and Turlough’s still back there with Mike, and Sean, my Sean, is pointing a gun at my face. If I let go of Jubilee she’ll fall. I wrap my arm around her, ignore her cry of pain when my hand squeezes the wound where my bullet grazed her side, and pull her on into the dark.
It comes in fragments. Her mother’s scream. The smell of something burning. The counter vibrating as something hits the floor, hard. The sharp, shattering crack of gunshots. Someone’s voice, saying, “That’ll be a bitch to clean up.” A little girl screaming from far away. The taste of metal.