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“JESSA!” My body moves on its own as I growl her name in the form of an order. “Don’t do this. You don’t need to end it like this. Don’t leave me again.” I no longer care about maintaining the composed façade I wore for everyone standing around me.
Behind me, Logan relays Link’s information to Dana, and I glance over my shoulder to see her face pale.
Within a minute, she went from utter relief at being released from Zane to realizing the depths of hell we are all descending into, and she shrieks her friend’s name.
I look back at Jessa, and her expression has changed. The weight of her world is crushing her, and I can’t help her. I’m forced to watch as she slowly crumbles underneath the storm she has created, and my rage turns to agony.
She’s giving her life to save ours.
Travis’s image is removed from the screen behind her, prompting Maxwell to speak.
I want to tear him apart for what he’s made Jessa do.
That piece of shit doesn’t even know what she’s done yet.
I’ve missed part of their conversation but Jessa’s pained laugh cuts through my anger as her beautiful voice, now laced with a rage of her own, begins to speak.
“I’m Zane. I created Zane in high school to use as an alternate identity if I ever needed one for hacking. I coded a system that could follow my cues and work with me. After you killed my family, Zane became my lead.Hecould never be found.Hecould never be caught, andhewould never be yours, just like I was never yours, Maxwell.”
She’s Zane. All of this. The planning, the hacking, and the hiding was all her. She fought to keep herself and Dana out of Maxwell’s grasp.
Maxwell has turned his attention to someone off-screen, no doubt trying to buy some time. The realization that he’s been played is hitting him, and he’s trying to stay afloat while his team works to protect themselves against Jessa’s hack.
But he’ll fall just as easily as we did, because he underestimated her. Just like we did.
We all had our eyes on a prize that didn’t exist.
Glancing at Logan, I see it written all over his face.
We are not in charge.
Maxwell is not in charge.
Jessa is running the show now, and there is nothing that will change the course she’s set for us.
“Jessa, you don’t have to do this. The gases you are filtering in are deadly. It’s cyanide.” Link’s voice rings into my ear, and it’s only now I realize she’s turned communication back on.
The door rattles behind her as Hunter hears Link’s words at the same time I do, and Dana sobs beside me, paralyzed with panic for her only friend.
“This is how it has to end…” I don’t hear the rest of Jessa’s response as my body becomes both heavy and lighter than air at the same time.
Dana’s cries turn to anger as she yells again for everything to stop. In her haze, Jessa’s eyes return to her friend, and her face softens for a moment before tears flow down her face. “Dana, I love you. Thank you for always being with me. You never let me down. I won’t let you down—” She opens her mouth to say something else, but Dana isn’t having any of it.
“You’re letting me down now, Jessa! Stop it! Stop the gas! Please!” She blinks hard to clear her eyes of her tears. Then everything becomes blurry, and I realize it’s my own tears that are blocking my vision.
“Grizz. That outside door is locking in twenty seconds. She shouldn’t see this.” Jessa speaks to my teammate, and he jumps into action, lifting Dana almost effortlessly. She fights against him to stay until the end.
As the door shuts behind them, the click of the lock echoes into the room, and Logan and I take one last glance at each other.
Logan’s face, now void of expression, takes me back to the first day I met him. He knew then Jessa was gone, just like he knows now what will happen once she gets enough of the gas into her lungs.
“Jessa, I’m sorry. Take deep breaths. The first gas coming in is meant to disable you, then you won’t feel anything. It’ll knock you out before the cyanide releases. You can still stop it. Just kill everything.” My anger flares at Link for telling my Jessa how to kill herself, but I know deep down he’s trying to spare her—and me—the experience of a painful death.
The speaker crackles, prompting Jessa to turn her attention to the laptop in front of her and tap a key.
“TacCon, this is Ranger Three. We are locked on target. Awaiting strike confirmation sequence.”
Link mutters a long string of profanities that I feel in my bones. I can tell he is equally impressed and terrified of Jessa right now—we all are.
