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And maybe that’s better? At least they’ll be gone.

Everyone is up next to me then. Blondie is calling out instructions to someone. Jack Joseph slaps my face and screams, “Open your eyes! Open your fucking eyes!”

“Five,” I moan. “Get them all for me, Five…”

I spin, and spin, and spin, and then I realize they don’t want me dead, that I’m of no use to them if I’m dead. My impulsive final act of defiance might actually win this game right now.

My smile forms through the foam and saliva spilling out of my mouth until words turn jumbled and the world begins to fade into black.

Chapter Thirty-Three - Five

I can hear people yelling down a dark hallway.

Then footsteps behind me. I look over my shoulder, pull the pistol from my pocket and aim—

“It’s just me!” Chen says.

I lower the pistol as he walks up, looking warily round for enemies.

“They’re down here,” I say, surprised at how calm my voice is. “They’ve got Rory. Middleton told me just before he died.”

“I saw his body,” Chen whispers. “What did he say?”

“Nothing,” I lie.

“Nothing?” Chen asks as we stalk forward. We’ve both got our guns ready, our backs pressing against a wall as we come to another hallway.

I don’t hear anything, but I stay flat against the wall as I peek around.

No one.

I slip to the right, down the new hallway and continue forward. The yelling is getting louder and I can barely make out a sliver of light.

Suddenly there’s more gunfire behind us. Chen and I both look at each other, then back the way we came.

“They’re coming in after us,” I say. “We gotta do this now, man. Fuck everything, we gotta do this now.”

Chen looks uncertain. He glances back at the commotion, and that’s when I take off for the door.

I expect it to be locked when I turn the long metal handle, so when it’s not, I almost hesitate.

Rory.

That’s the only thing I care about right now.

I do not hesitate. I throw the door open and stand there, gun pointing at the chest of Jack Joseph.

I knew that fuck was behind this. I knew it.

“Five!” Jack bellows in his fake magnanimous greeting. “You’re right on time.”

A blonde woman is on the floor with my princess, who does not look good. She’s pale and there’s foam coming out of her mouth.

“What the fuck,” I growl—so low, so dangerous—“did you do to my wife?”

“Your wife?”

I glance over to where the voice came from, find Frank Fulbright smiling at me.