Final.
Ron Sanchez drops to the floor and does not move again.
The room freezes.
Kauss stands over him, swaying, blood spreading dark across his torn suit. His breathing sounds wrong. Wet. Heavy. His eyes find mine with horror already dawning.
He did the thing I came to stop.
And for the first time, I understand with terrible clarity that there was no peaceful choice left.
I push Nara away and crawl to him because standing is no longer possible.
“Kauss.”
He turns toward me and sinks to his knees before he reaches me, as if his body finally remembers the bullets.
I catch him badly. He is too large, too heavy, but Arturo and Darlene are there suddenly, helping lower him without letting him hit the floor. His blood soaks my left hand. It is hot. Too hot.
“No,” I whisper. “No, no, no.”
Kauss looks at Ron’s body, then at me. His voice is barely there. “I killed him.”
I press my good hand to his face, forcing him to look at me. “He left you no choice.”
His eyes search mine desperately. “I tried.”
“I know.”
“I lowered the weapon.”
“I saw.”
“I chose mercy.”
“You did.” Tears spill hot down my cheeks. “He chose this.”
His breath shudders. “I did not come back as the man who said it.”
“Yes, you did.” My voice breaks. “You came back exactly as him. You spared him when it was yours to choose. What happened after that was not your failure.”
He closes his eyes, pain twisting his face.
Nara is beside us with the med-kit, hands already moving. “Pressure here. Darlene, call Saint Orra’s. Arturo, transport now. I don’t care what kind, just fast.”
Kauss’s hand finds mine weakly.
“Evie.”
“I’m here.”
“You should not be here.”
“Too bad.”
That almost-smile flickers and dies.
“Keys,” he whispers.
