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There was a white-hot immensity of sensation in her stomach, and somehow it held her to the boards. It was some kind of sorcery, some strange magic, and her mind fought to understand it.
Then whatever held her was gone, and she was rising, surging backward onto her knees. She froze then, as if kneeling in prayer as she stared down at her stomach. Her lips formed two words, but there was no sound.
Red mouth.
For so it was
. An enormous one had opened in her stomach, and she could feel a corresponding one on her back. As if an invisible blade wielded by a demon hand somehow passed through her. She looked at the planks, but there was no blade anywhere to be seen.
Then something rose up over the edge of the platform. A face. Young, dark, with a lot of hair and eyes that were not at all like a demon’s. They were kind eyes, and so very sad.
A boy clambered up onto the platform. He had a long bo tucked through the back of his belt, and in his hand was a machete.
Her machete.
As the whiteness of pain ebbed, a bright clarity opened in Sister Sorrow’s mind. This boy had seen the handle of her weapon as he climbed up. He’d taken it, and as she lay down to try and catch it, he’d driven the blade up between the boards. Into her.
She tried to say that, despite being a sinner, she thanked him for the gift he’d given her: sending her into the eternal darkness where Lord Thanatos—all praise to his greater darkness—was waiting to enfold her. Sister Sorrow wanted to say all of that. Needed to.
But she had no voice left. There was no breath left in her. She felt herself go… to fade. The blessed darkness wrapped its gentle wings around her, and she was gone.
* * *
Brother Mercy parried the sword, lunged with one knife, and whipped out with the other, but as he did so he saw something that tore a terrible cry from him.
He watched Sister Sorrow topple forward like a broken doll and then roll off the platform, vanishing into the darkness below.
His scream was so big, so filled with despair, that it made Benny Imura pause and step back. The scream tore a huge hole in the night, and for a moment there was nothing except that sound.
* * *
Spider crawled over the edge and onto the platform, winded, bloody from stabbing the reaper woman. Then he saw Gutsy and tore across the boards. He dropped the machete and pulled his bo free from his belt, swinging it at the ravager who clung to the edge of the deck. The staff hit solidly, knocking the zombie forward. The killer started to fall, but his fingers caught in the pockets of Gutsy’s canvas fishing vest. The impact tore the bottom third of the vest away, dropping the ravager onto the one clutching her ankle. The shock broke his grip, and both ravagers plummeted to the ground. However, the initial downward tug on Gutsy’s vest nearly broke her grip. She managed to hold on, even though blood welled from between her clutching fingers.
“Gutsy,” Spider cried as he used his bo to try and snag the cable. The angle was impossible, though. “Don’t let go.”
“Spider,” she yelled, “push me.”
“What?” he yelped.
“Push me. Make me swing. Come on, do it… I’m slipping.”
Spider looked terrified, but he changed his grip on the staff, leaned out, placed the end against her hip, and pushed. It made her swing about a foot away, but on the return, she didn’t come anywhere near close enough to the platform.
“Harder!”
* * *
Brother Mercy made a guttural sound of raw hatred and attacked with renewed ferocity, driving Benny back step by step.
Benny realized that he was too close to the edge and abruptly threw himself at a right angle, tucking into a roll and coming out of it running. He stamped down, pivoted to arrest his momentum, and met Brother Mercy’s charge.
Their blades met again and again.
* * *
Gutsy knew she was going to fall. There was no strength left in her arms. Everything was numb, except for where it was on fire. She thought of Alice down there, hurt, needing her. Had the Carnovskys gotten her to the hospital? Would that even be enough? Gutsy had no idea how bad Alice was hurt. She hated herself for not staying with her. For not caring enough for her.
Except that wasn’t true, and on her deepest practical level, Gutsy knew that. Stopping the crane meant saving the whole town. If the reapers and ravagers had torn down the wall, then nothing Gutsy could do would save Alice. Or any of the people she cared about.
