Nara catches me this time, and I let her because my body is failing faster than pride can compensate. Kauss moves toward me instantly, holstering the pistol.
“Evie.”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you are not.”
“Still bossy.”
“You left the hospital.”
“You left sanity. We’re both making choices.”
Then Ron moves.
He should not be able to. He is injured, kneeling, beaten, watched by armed men. But hatred can be faster than pain. He pulls a hidden compact pistol from beneath his ruined jacket with his good hand and fires before anyone can stop him.
The first shot hits Kauss in the side.
The second strikes his chest.
The third punches into his abdomen.
The room erupts.
I scream his name.
Kauss staggers but does not fall.
Ron fires again.
The fourth shot hits near Kauss’s shoulder, snapping his upper body back. Arturo’s people shout. Nara pulls me down. Darlene fires the shock baton, but the bolt strikes the floor as Ron lunges forward, laughing and sobbing at once.
Kauss drops the pistol.
Then he moves.
Mortally wounded or not, he moves like the thing every nightmare in Halo has been trying to name.
He crosses the distance barehanded.
Ron raises the gun again.
Kauss catches his wrist and crushes it.
The weapon falls.
Ron screams, but Kauss’s other hand closes around his throat. For one second, I think he might stop. That mercy might still live enough to hold him back.
Then Ron spits blood into his face and rasps, “She falls pretty.”
Kauss’s expression goes blank.
He twists.
The sound is small.
Awful.
