Lib Novel Page 68
I just do, I send, look at the—
I don’t have a chance to finish my sentence before Percy takes off from his place beside me, running at a full sprint toward the commander, who shouts, turns on his heel, and runs from the room instantly, diving through a door just before it closes.
Bigby and I glance at one another, before letting out incredulous laughs. Percy goes right to Veronica’s bedside, untying her and lifting her into his arms.
“Get her out of here,” Bigby says, “Byron and I can handle that little weasel. Always was a coward.”
Percy nods, already halfway out the room, and Bigby and I follow after the commander, trailing behind him and making our way through the boat. We take out guys one after the other, me throwing my knives, Bigby just muscling his way through.
After a minute, we emerge onto the top of the boat, where the commander is standing with his arms crossed. This time, when he turns around, a smug smile on his face, it’s genuine.
“Zane?” I ask, heart in my throat. There he is, a knife to Olivia’s throat. Tears are streaming down her face, and she’s holding his forearm like he’s choking her. “What the fuck?”
“What’s wrong?” he shouts, “I thought you didn’t care about her?”
Everything is confusing, happening all at once. Zane is here? And he has a knife to Olivia’s throat? He’s working with the commander? How could something like that happen?
My mind flashes back to when we first came to Rosecreek, when Aris found out there was a traitor on the team and forced us all into the river, naked, to talk to us about it. Is this what he was feeling then? This level of betrayal.
I always knew my brother was flawed, grieving, maybe imperfect, but this? Threatening an innocent woman? Working with the man who nearly killed Percy?
“You’re right,” I say, my voice breaking. “That’s what I thought. That’s what I wanted. Because it’s easier than watching the people you love betray you.”
“This isn’t betrayal,” Zane says, “this is what I’ve always been like.”
“Maybe that’s true,” I say, a cold laugh bubbling up in my throat. A frigid wind rips across the top of the boat, and I see ice-slicked over the surface, see how it glints in the moonlight. Olivia’s hair is blowing up around her wildly, and the commander is watching the two of us, like he can’t wait to see how it plays out. “You remember our play-through of Undertale?”
“Of course,” he says, laughing a bit, and I frown.
“It was just like you to choose the genocide option,” I say, shaking my head, like I’m disappointed in him.
“Yes, of course, I chose the genocide option,” he says, “but Byron—”
I don’t hesitate. The knife is between my fingers in a second, flying through the air a moment later, and burying itself in Zane’s throat, cutting him off. For good.
Chapter 30 – Olivia
Several things happen all at once.
First, the womp, womp, womp of a helicopter becomes audible just as Byron’s throwing knife buries in Zane’s throat. It cuts through like he’s made of wax and not skin and bones and sinew. I scream, expecting hot blood to spray over my face, but it doesn’t come.
Second, Bigby tries to step forward—to do what, I’m not sure—but he slips on a patch of ice. When he lands on the boat, it’s loud, and also, he seems to land on some sort of weapon, which fires, ripping through the wood on the deck and slicing into the hull.
We all stand still for a moment, suspended in time. There’s a loud, but muffled boom under the vessel, like the ammo traveled through the wood and metal and detonated under the boat.
“That’s not good,” Bigby says.
Third, the commander says something when he sees the helicopter, flipping his hand up in the air. I can’t hear it through the ringing in my ears, but whatever it is seems to piss Byron off, so he takes a running leap over the top of Bigby, tackling the old man to the ground. They tussle together while I scream again and run to Bigby, helping him get to his feet.
This boat is sinking much faster than the other one, icy water already washing over our feet, making me gasp. When I get him standing, Bigby is shivering, his massive body quaking in the wintry gusts.
“Oh Gods,” I say, when I see Byron and the commander rolling toward the part of the boat that’s rapidly plunging under the water. “Byron!” I shout, trying to move toward him, but Bigby reaches out, touching my arm as though in a trance.
“Look,” he says, and when I glance down to my feet, where Zane’s lifeless body had been just a moment before, there’s a steaming white pile that looks like lard, or opaque Jell-O in its place.
“Oh, Gods!” I shriek again, just before I turn and vomit. Bigby grabs me under the armpits to keep me from sliding over the side of the boat as I retch. On the other side, Byron seems to have the upper hand on the commander, the old man pinned to the boat’s deck, the water lapping under his chin, surely drenching and freezing him at the same time.
Byron’s hair is slick, dripping, the wind turning his cheeks and lips raw. There’s a look on his face like one I’ve never seen before as he wrestles with the commander, trying to get his knife close enough to the man’s throat to end his life. Manic. Feral, almost.