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The first bolt caught him in the lower back, just to the left of his spine. The second caught him in the arm. He screamed, but didn’t stop running. Nor did he let go of Ruby.

“Caleb…” There was nothing Ruby could do, or say, that would help. She was powerless to do anything but watch the life bleed from Caleb. “I’m so sorry.”

The militia reloaded.

Caleb kept sprinting for the Security Ministry.

Ruby watched the arrows fly towards them.

One struck Caleb in the thigh. He stumbled but didn’t fall. Yet. Another caught him in the neck. His scream faded to a gurgle, his body went instantly limp, and he and Ruby toppled to the ground.

The world spun around Ruby. It took all her willpower not to pass out again when her broken arm collided with the concrete. For a moment she thought Caleb was, impossibly, still screaming. Then she realized the voice was hers.

She regained control of her body and her voice. Caleb lay beside her, lying on his side. His eyes met hers and he tried to speak, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was blood.

“I’m sorry,” Ruby whimpered. “You don’t deserve this.”

Even without words, Caleb spoke to Ruby. His eyes said everything: he was afraid. No, he was terrified. Who wouldn’t be? Anyone who said they weren’t afraid of death is a liar. And Caleb was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar.

Ruby took one of Caleb’s huge hands in hers. “Roman will rescue Sparks,” she told him. “I know it. I’ll tell Sparks that…” Her voice trailed off.

There was no point telling Caleb what she would tell Sparks. He couldn’t hear her anymore. His fingers went limp and his gaze went blank.

Caleb died.

* * *

Roman stepped over the corpses. Judging by the smell, several militia had shit themselves before dying. He strode over a woman who was still alive, gurgling as she feebly tried to pull the axe from her chest. Roman examined each corpse to check if it was Juliette’s, but she wasn’t here. Good. If anyone’s going to kill her, it’ll be me. Not Candle.

Candle stood at the end of the corridor, his back to Roman. His blue glow was dimmed by the layer of blood that coated him. A crossbow bolt was lodged in his side, just below his ribs. He had bullet wounds in both his shoulder and thigh. He turned to face Roman, revealing a cut running from the top of his chest to his hip. It didn’t look fatally deep, but Roman couldn’t help looking away.

Candle stepped forward, stumbled, and had to lean against the wall for support. Roman approached him cautiously. “Are you okay?”

“It’ll take more than this to stop me.” Candle spat blood. “Just… give me a moment.”

Roman nodded. He moved amongst the bodies until he came to a woman who looked alive enough to talk. Her arm had been dislocated at the shoulder, and blood was pouring from a wound in her stomach. She watched Roman with wide eyes as he knelt beside her.

He pulled the knife from her belt and spun it in his hand. “Where’s Juliette?”

“Go… to… hell,” she croaked.

“Hell couldn’t be much worse than this.” Roman waved a hand, motioning to the mess around them. “I can give you faster passage there, or I can start peeling your skin off. Your choice.” He laid the blade against her cheek. “So, think about your answer this time: Where the fuck is Juliette?”

“Oh god… Please, no. Juliette’s at… the machine… waiting…”

“Is she alone?”

The girl nodded. “Oh fuck… hurts…”

“I imagine so.” Grimacing, Roman sliced the knife across her throat. It felt wrong — killing someone in a fight was one thing, killing them like this was another. But for her, this is a mercy, he reminded himself, it’s Juliette who deserves to suffer, not this girl.

Candle sat down against the wall, breathing hard. He watched as Roman moved between the militia who were still alive, ending their agony with swift strokes of his knife. Candle frowned. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said when Roman had finished.

“No. I didn’t.”

“If you knew the pain that these fuckers put me through — put all of the Adrenalites here through — you wouldn’t have any sympathy for them.”

“This isn’t out of sympathy.”

“Then why?”

Roman shrugged. “I might be angry, stubborn, vengeful. But I’m not cruel.”

“That’s a small distinction.”

“Better than none at all.”

Suddenly, the hall was flooded with light. Roman cursed, shielding his eyes. The few light bulbs lining the hall had turned on, the nearest just above him. His eyes slowly adjusted. Looking at the bloody scene around him, he wished the lights had stayed off.

Candle looked puzzled. “Why would she bring the power back now?”

“She must have heard the fighting. Now she knows that either we’re dead, and she’s safe. Or that we’re still coming. Either way, she knows she can’t hide anymore.”

“She’s at the machine.”

Roman nodded. “Let’s not keep her waiting too long. But first…” He pushed open one of the doors that lined the corridor, it led to an empty room. He moved onto the next room, where a steel table stood against one wall, covered in books. Juliette’s hiding books down here, Roman thought furiously, just how much is she trying to cover up? The part of him that was still a historian longed to read them. But now wasn’t the time.

In the next room the walls were covered in shelves, most of which held small devices Roman didn’t recognize. Tools of the Ancients? His eyes settled on a shelf in the corner, where over a dozen activation and defoxican needles rested. He stole a defoxican needle and hid it in his coat. Just in case Candle does anything… unhelpful. On impulse, he took an activation needle as well.

In the hallway, Candle was back on his feet. Roman glanced over his wounds and was surprised to see most of the bleeding had already stopped. He knew Adrenalites healed quickly while activated, but this was unbelievable.

“You ready?” Candle asked.

Roman nodded.

Candle led the way. They followed the hallway to a staircase leading deeper underground. Roman’s unease grew with each flight of stairs they descended. There was a deep rumbling noise, getting louder the further they went. He could feel it in his chest.

“Is that—”

“The metal bitch. Yeah.”

Just how deep underground are we? Roman wondered. The only sources of light were dull, flickering bulbs. The air was dry and stale. There must be ventilation here somewhere, bringing fresh air from above ground. Roman looked around for some sign of it, but all he saw was bare grey walls.

Three flights down, they reached a landing with a large steel door. The sound was coming from behind it. Opposite, another flight of stairs led further down. Roman placed one hand against the door, feeling it vibrating from the rumbling. His other hand gripped his pistol. Two shots left.

“The Adrenalites are held below,” Candle said, already moving down the next flight of stairs. We can come back and kill the Captain after we’ve—”

“No. I’m dealing with her first.”

Candle halted. “Bad idea. If she’s waiting for us, then it’s definitely a trap. Once we rescue my friends — and your boy — we can come back. Then we’ll have enough of us that whatever she’s planned won’t matter.”

“I’m not giving her the chance to slip out past us.”

Candle shrugged. “Fine. I don’t need you anyway.” Then he ran down the stairs two steps at a time, turned the corner at the landing below, and was gone. Roman didn’t even consider following. In fact, he was glad they split up. It meant Juliette was left to him.