Candle was on his knees, one hand clutching his face. Roman booted him in the gut. Then again. On the third time, Candle grabbed Roman’s leg before it could connect and pulled Roman to the ground. Roman rolled away, barely managing to avoid Candle’s next blow. He tried to stand, but Candle was too fast, dragging him back down and punching him in the jaw.
Roman retaliated with a sharp jab to the throat. Candle gasped, winded, but retained his composure enough to block Roman’s next blow and strike back with a fist to the forehead. Roman’s body went weak and he collapsed onto his back, vision blurry.
“We all get what we deserve,” Candle spat as he punched Roman just below the ribs, driving what was left of his breath out of him. “Apart from you. There’s no hell bad enough for a bounty hunter. You trade our lives for money, you piece of shit.”
“Fuck you.” Roman didn’t have the strength to fight back, not anymore. That was it. Candle had won. But, when Gavin heard that Roman was dead, he would let Ruby go. Hopefully.
Candle raised his fist for another blow, but a hand grabbed him from behind before he could strike. A hand that made even his look small.
Roman blinked, stunned. Candle spun around just as Caleb’s huge fist caught him in the side of the head, hard. Candle collapsed, unconscious.
“Hey Roman,” Caleb said simply.
“Caleb… How?” Roman’s vision returned to focus. “What happened to you?
Caleb frowned. “I couldn’t talk the boy out of his… choice. So I came after you.”
“Did you see Tan? Is he—”
“He’s upstairs. Alive, but hurt. Badly. We’ve got to go.”
Roman nearly fainted from relief. He took a deep breath, calming himself. He noticed Caleb’s arms were covered in cuts, and blood dripped down from a gash in his forehead. But he was here, and Tan was alive.
Caleb looked down at Candle. “Is that—”
“Yeah.” Roman crouched beside Candle and rolled his unconscious body onto its back. The left side of his face was red, the wax hardening on his skin. His closed eyelid was already beginning to blister. Roman cringed just looking at it. He quickly unstrapped the third and final activation needle off Candle’s arm, carefully putting it in his coat pocket – he didn’t think he would ever need it, but at the very least it was worth a handful of credits.
Caleb picked up Candle by the arm and slung him over his broad shoulders. “Let’s go.”
Roman went to Spencer’s body and pried the pistol from his dead fingers. Five bullets left loaded. Roman tucked it into his jacket, then picked up his own gun off the floor and followed Caleb out of the room.
“Tan!” Roman called out as he climbed the stairs back to the main room.
Tan sat against the wall in the corner of the room, cradling his arm in his lap. Roman ran to him, his breath catching when he saw how much blood was pouring down his friend’s face. Tan smiled at Roman weakly. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. “I told you that I shouldn’t leave you alone. You always get yourself into trouble without me.”
Tan flinched when Roman wiped away the blood from his forehead, revealing a wide cut. Roman couldn’t tell in the dark, but Tan’s skull might have been cracked. He quickly pulled his hand away — any pressure on the wound now could do serious damage. “You’re going to be okay,” Roman said. Whether he was trying to convince Tan or himself, he wasn’t sure.
“I really don’t feel okay, Boss. I might just take a nap here… oh.” Tan paused when he saw Candle. “You got him. Good. Now, go get Ruby back. I’ll just stay here and… Well, bleed.”
“Don’t try be fucking noble. It doesn’t suit you.” Roman took off his shirt beneath his coat and wrapped it around Tan’s forehead carefully. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Who’s being noble now? It looks shit on you too.”
“I won’t argue with that.” Roman looked at Tan’s arm next. The middle of the forearm was bent at a forty-five-degree angle, and there was another break at the just above the wrist. Roman winced just looking at it. They would have to set it back in place and splint it. But that would have to wait. Roman pulled Tan up by his good arm, supporting him as they walked to the door.
“You don’t happen to be hiding any whiskey in your coat, are you?” Tan said between clenched teeth.
“If I did, you would already have stolen it.”
Caleb stepped outside first, having to duck to fit both him and Candle through the door frame. Roman followed, still supporting Tan, momentarily blinded by the sunlight.
A crowd of militia were heading straight for them.
Roman cursed. Could they run? No — he and Caleb might be able to get away, but not with Tan and Candle. So he was going to have to try talk his way out of this. Roman reluctantly surrendered by raising his hand that wasn’t holding Tan.
A dozen militia armed with crossbows levelled them at him while the others kept advancing. There had to be over thirty of the bastards.
Juliette made her way to the front of the militia. Even in bulky body armour, she looked scrawny. Her brown hair was even messier than usual, knotted and uneven. She held a bow, an arrow nocked and the string half pulled back. She scowled at Roman. He returned the expression. She stopped a dozen yards away, the militia halting behind her.
Roman’s fingers twitched, eager to grab his gun. One shot between her eyes. It would be easy. “You lied to me about Ashton Spencer,” he growled. “There was never any serum.”
“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” Juliette looked from Roman to Caleb, then to Candle. “But do you think I’m going to pay you for capturing Candle like this? I expected better from you, Roman.”
Roman moved between Juliette and Caleb. “Juliette, listen to me, Gavin has Ruby and—”
“Where’s Ashton Spencer?”
“Dead. But Ruby—”
“You killed him? Why the fuck would you—”
“I didn’t. But listen to me, Gavin has Ruby, and he’s going to kill her unless—”
“I don’t give a damn.” Juliette pointed her bow at Roman. “Just give me Candle and you can walk away. Simple.”
“I can’t.”
“You work for me, remember?”
Tan staggered in front of Roman. “I don’t.”
“I’m sorry, but you really do.”
Tan shook his head. “To quote a friend: Fuck no. I’m a freelancer. Bitch.”
Juliette shot him in the chest.
33
Sparks watched Tan collapse. Time seemed to stand still.
She killed him…
She fucking killed him.
Juliette was the first to move again. In one smooth motion, she reached over her shoulder, pulled another arrow from her quiver and nocked it. She brought the string back, aiming towards—
No. Not Caleb.
Before he knew what he was doing, Sparks charged towards Juliette. He heard someone screaming and realized it was him. With each leap he crossed half a dozen yards, dashing past the militia in his way.
Juliette turned, swinging the bow to aim at him. The arrow grazed Sparks’ cheek. He barely felt it.
He dove forward, slammed into Juliette and pitched them both into the air. Her screaming mixed with his as the world rushed past. They struck the wall with a bone-shaking crunch. Chunks of brick collapsed onto them. Somewhere close, a gunshot.
Sparks lay half-submerged in the fallen rubble, disorientated. He coughed, dust clogging his throat. One of his arms was still wrapped around Juliette’s chest. He raised himself onto all fours, vision hazy as he looked down at Juliette. A trail of blood ran down from her mouth, but she was still breathing. Her eyes opened, focused on Sparks, and went wide with fear.