Part 18 (1/2)

”But”

”Don't tell her I'm alive. If you do, she'll come back for me.”

”I can't”

”Someone has to get out. That's what she said. She's right. That's the goal. The only goal. Make something up. Tell her a story. You're smart. You'll figure it out.”

”But you”

”I'll keep playing dead. I fooled you, right?”

He says nothing. He can't. He's looking at her, arms and legs every which way, and that's how she fell, and maybe she's just staying like that in case Gray comes back, so he doesn't realize she's moved, but Max suspects that's not the answer.

I can't feel anything. Can't get up.

He looks at the blood on her back. At the hole in the middle of her s.h.i.+rt.

Shot through the back. Barely holding on. Will she make it? She hasn't said she will, hasn't given any rea.s.surances, because she can't, because chances are ...

Don't think of that. Just don't.

How can he leave her here? How can he tell Riley she's dead when she isn't?

Make something up. Tell her a story. You're smart. You'll figure it out.

He doesn't want to figure it out. He wants to fix this. Help her. Leaving is wrong. So b.l.o.o.d.y wrong.

Except it's not. It's the right thing to do, for him and for Riley, like they did with Lorenzo, and it shouldn't come to that How the h.e.l.l has it come to that? Can he still be human if he does it?

And what is the alternative? No, really. What is the alternative? Brienne can't move. He could drag her into a nearby room ... probably hurt her worse and leave a blood trail that will tell Gray not only where she is but that she's alive. That he needs to shoot her in the head. Like Aimee.

Max sucks in breath.

”Max,” she whispers. ”Please. The longer you wait ...”

”I know. I'm sorry.” I'm so sorry. ”I'm going. We'll get out. I have a plan. We'll get you help.”

”Good lad,” she says, in an accent that's probably supposed to be English.

She manages a quarter smile, and he returns it. He starts to get to his feet, then he bends over and says, ”Riley said you wanted to be brave. You are.”

A real smile now. ”I know.”

CHAPTER 20.

Max comes back, and he doesn't say a word. He just shakes his head. I hug him, and when he hugs me back, it's fierce and so tight it steals my breath, as if he's holding on before I slip away like the others.

He whispers, ”I'm sorry, Riley,” and his breath hitches, and I hug him again. Then we separate and I say, ”I have an idea,” and he nods, a little distracted, still thinking about Brienne, and I'm glad I didn't see her like that, because I'm not sure I could have gone on if I did.

See, Brienne. Not so brave after all. Just really good at faking it.

”Predator is right over there,” I say, pointing. ”Just around the corner.”

”What?” He spins to the door. ”I wouldn't have put you in here if I'd known”

”Which is why I didn't tell you. I'm fine. I have this.” I lift the gun. ”And I haven't heard a peep. Either he's dead or he's close to it. Did you see blood in the hall?”

His fair skin pales.

I hurry on. ”Sorry. I know. Brienne. But”

”No, just hers. He's still in there, then.”

”With a cell phone.”

”Right.” He snaps his fingers. ”Yes, yes, yes. Brilliant. Let's go get that, shall we?”

To get to Predator's resting place, we have to pa.s.s the hall where Brienne lies. Max gets up beside me then, and when my head turns that way, he prods me forward and blocks my view with ”Don't, Riley,” and he's right, of course. It feels cowardly not to look, but I don't. I keep going to Predator's room. The door is open, and when we draw close enough, I can see Predator's foot. He's exactly how we left him when we ran.

Did Gray not even come back to check him? Just called or radioed and, when he got no response, carried on? Hurt or dead, either way his partner was useless. No need to check.

I don't search for the phone right away, as tempting as that is. Max doesn't let me. He waves for me to wait and aim the gun. Then he prods Predator with his foot. A light kick. A harder one. A grunt of satisfaction when the b.a.s.t.a.r.d doesn't move. He searches for the cell phone while I cover him.

”b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l,” Max whispers as his pocket pat-down comes up empty.

Yes, Gray did come back. To get the d.a.m.ned cell phone. We do a more thorough search; but still find nothing.

I remember Predator's gun and ask Max, but he says Gray took it from Brienne. I remember everyone who's been shot with that gun. Murdered with that gun. Everyone dead. Everyone gone. No survivors except us. Well, and Sandy, who got out before ”Sandy,” I whisper.

”Hmm?”

”He's the one who let Sandy go. That means he had the keys.”

”Yes!”

Max drops beside me, and we start patting Predator's pockets. He pulls out the keys, grinning, and I give him a thumbs-up and a return grin and Predator rolls over. The sudden move knocks Max back, and I'm swinging the gun up, but Predator's too fast. He's been playing dead and waiting for exactly the right moment, and when his hand comes up, I see the flash of metal. A knife. It's coming straight for me, and I try to scramble back, but he stabs me.

The blade goes in. I gasp. Max is on him. He grabs Predator by the hair and yanks him back. Predator slashes at Max. I swing the gun again, and it hits Predator on the side of the head, harder than I would have imagined. There's a crack, and I don't care what that crack means, only that it stops him mid-slash, and he crumples.

I hold the gun on Predator as Max makes sure he's unconscious. Then he sees the blood on my s.h.i.+rt. His eyes widen, and he fumbles to get over Predator's body, but I pull away, saying, ”It's just a nick.”

”Let me”

”I'm fine. Just the tip went in.” I point at the blade on the floor, and it is indeed only the tip bloodied, but more than that went init just wiped clean coming out. Max nods, chin bobbing as he stares at that blade as if rea.s.suring himself.

”I'm fine,” I say again. Which is not true. Not true at all. ”We have the key.”