Chapter Thirteen

Danny

“I think maybe I should –“

“No, you shouldn’t.”

“But –“

“No!”

“Bekah –“

“Cass –“

“Oh, for God’s sake, Rebekah, let him say whatever he wants to say so he’ll stop pestering us!”

Pause.

Finally, Cass said, rather dryly, “Thanks, Danny.”

“Any time.”

“Anyway, Bekah, all I wanted to say was that I wanted to check something with Eframe –“

Of course, Beks had to cut in again. “Oh, good God!” she yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “Cass, you said we should go on. And if you say ‘I should check something’ one more time, Heaven help me, I’m going to punch the living crap out of you!”

“Good luck with that,” I muttered, pretending to make myself comfortable against the wall. Rebekah, for all her vibrato, couldn’t hit worth shit. The best she could do was a slap across the face, and I’d guess not a very hard one at that. She’s just not the type that goes around hitting people. Beks steps on toes, elbows people in the ribs, and has fingernails (which she uses), but she doesn’t punch. It was an empty threat.

Cass shrugged, meanwhile, sighing through his nose. “All right, all right,” he conceded. “I just don’t want to do something wrong. I’m going off instructions from a voice in my head. Do you know how hard it is?”

Bekah, apparently trying to become bipolar, let her expression soften. “No, but I can guess,” she said. Jairann laughed derisively in my head.

“What?”

Nirzhan’s face, he said. Rebekah’s slight annoys him.

"Is that all?"

"What?" Beks glanced at me, then away again, apparently having realized what I was talking to myself for. I didn't bother to clarify.

That is all.

There was a pause during which we all sat around the cave, watching each other and waiting.

"Cass?"

Cass looked at Bekah, and it looked like he was having a fight with himself. He frowned.

"Cass? Are we going to –" She seemed unsure, like she didn't really want to finish the sentence.

"I guess," Cass said finally, resignedly. "Eframe says it should work. I guess we should go on." Any idiot could tell he didn't want to, though. He had that determined look he gets whenever he doesn't want to do something but doesn't want to let anyone know about his misgivings.

Beks could see it too.

"Maybe we should wait."

Cass shook his head. "You know we can't."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. If we wait, we'll never do it. We'll lose our nerve. Do you want that?"

Beks swallowed, looked around the cave, then focused on me and Cass. We must have looked a sight – gritty, clothes sweat-stained, greasy hair. She wasn't' much better, though.

"No," she said finally. "Not by a long shot."

"Thought so."

Silence.

None of us moved. None of us wanted to. Despite what Cass said, I know none of us wanted to willingly, knowingly do this.

I know I didn't. See, the first time, the first time I trained a gun on someone and pulled the trigger and sat their watching them die, I could claim it was an accident. The heat of the moment. Jairann's influence in my head. My inability to control my temper. An accident. I could justify it that way and maybe not feel so horrible. I would feel horrible, remembering that, for the rest of my life anyway – whether Morgan had survived or not. It didn't matter, because his surviving wouldn't erase the memory.

But I didn't want to remember purposely, knowingly shooting someone. Standing there and knowing what I was about to do and doing it anyway. That's something you just can't rationalize away, and I knew it. I didn't ever want to have that hanging over me.

And none of the others did, either. You could tell from the way Rebekah clenched her hands into fists in her lap, and the way Cass was frowning without really realizing he was frowning. Nobody wanted to be the first one to shoot.

So the silence stretched, longer and longer and longer, as we stared around and tried not to meet each other's eyes.

Beks stared at her crossed legs, and you could tell she was thinking about saying something she really didn't want to say. She scratched under her fingernails with the nails on her other hand, working out little grains of sand as she thought. When that exhausted her, she interlaced her fingers and tried to pretend she was calm, letting her hands lie limp in her lap. But she couldn't seem to keep still, and they twisted of their own accord. Still, nobody spoke.

"Beks," I said when I was utterly fed up with how long she was taking to psych herself up. "You got something to say. Just say it."

She chewed her lip, arm muscles tense and taut as she clenched her hands in her lap. Her cheeks grew red, and she didn't look up, but finally she spoke. "I … want to go first."

Pause.

"Hang on," said Cass finally. "You want to …" He trailed off, clearly waiting for her to clarify.

"I want to go first," she repeated, shamefaced. "Go back, I mean. First."

Nothing less than I should have expected, I suppose. Beks isn't a fighter, not at all. She hates blood, will take a cheesy chick flick over an action movie any day, and would probably not pick up a dagger if her life depended on it. I should have guessed she wouldn't want to do this.

Cass and I shared a glance. He knew too, I could tell. But the difference between us right then was that he wanted to let her go first.

And God help me, I didn't. See, if she went first, one of us would have to do the dirty work, pick up a gun and point it at her and shoot and watch that beam of searing light disintegrate her. And even if Cass took the initiative and did it, one of us would still have work to do. And it might be me. I might have to send Cass back, like I'd done Morgan, except this time I'd know. I'd have time to consider and think about it and wonder and psych myself up, which wouldn't do any good because how can you psych yourself up for something like that?

So I didn't want her to go first. I wanted to go first, so I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore.

I know Cass could see me hesitating. Beks probably could too. And she'd have tried to make someone else go first so we wouldn't have to decide, because that's Bekah for you, and that's just the way she works. Cass cut in before she could try and fix her mistake though.

"Yeah," he said finally, giving me a please look. "You can."

I nodded and told myself not to be such a coward, and the relief on her face was insane. Only a suicidal person can look that relieved when someone's told them they can be the first one to die.

I guess that classified every one of us as pretty damn suicidal.

----------

Cass

We went outside. I don't know why, but by unspoken agreement, we all trooped on out. Like killing indoors was worse than killing outdoors. Like it mattered anymore.

I thought that as we emerged into the dying light of the evening, and I was surprised at myself for thinking something so – so dark. And then I was surprised that I was surprised, because I figured I had a right to be dark and bitter and whatever the hell else I wanted to be, because nobody but me had to know.

Eframe had enough brains to figure out that commenting on this particular thought probably wasn't a good plan. He kept quiet, which was a relief.

And then we stood around outside, sand sinking beneath our feet. And we stared at the ground, at each other, at the sky, at the cave mouth, and we didn't speak or really move for a long time. We were all wimping out, unsure whether we should do this or not, almost unwilling.

Cassidy, murmured Eframe in my head after a while. You must do something. You do want to get out, do you not? You must decide if you want to go through with this.

I breathed for a moment, contemplating, wondering whether I really wanted to go through with this or not. At that point, I wasn't sure.

It is the only way out, he continued.

"But it's what we wanted to avoid," I said under my breath, more mouthing the words than actually speaking them aloud. "We didn't want to have to do this."

There was never any alternative. I have helped all I can, but I cannot get you out any other way.

"We're playing just the way you wanted us to." This time it was Danny, surprising me with the words. Eframe was talking to all of us, I suppose. "We're playing your game. One of us is going to win for you, and what happens to them?"

Cassidy has a plan, said Eframe calmly.

"Yeah? Cass?"

"… I'm not really sure about it. Eframe says it'll work, but …"

"what is it?"

I told him. Beks's eyes widened, and she looked at me like I was crazy. I guess I was.

But Danny – he was relieved. I could see it all over his face, despite how he was clearly trying to look disturbed and weirded out. He was glad it was going to work this way. Maybe I should have been mad that he was so happy, but I couldn't be. This way meant he wouldn't have to do any more work. He was glad of that. How could I get mad at him for being relieved that he wouldn't have to kill anymore?

I couldn't. Impossible.

"Cass?"

God, I just wanted a little longer, a little bit more time to rationalize and justify and make what I was about to do all right. Just a couple of more minutes, then I could bring myself – maybe – to pull a gun on one of my best friends.

"Cass?"

"Maybe I should –" Danny sounded resigned, and he was closing his fingers around his weapon. But he'd already done enough (don't think 'damage,' whatever you do). I could do it. I could. If I just didn't think too hard about it.

"No, no," I said, and God, I sounded pathetic. "It's okay."

"Nothing's okay," Bekah said darkly, and I couldn't help but agree. She was completely right, after all. Things were not okay.

I took a breath. Then another. And then I thought I needed one more. And then I had to swallow hard to keep my throat from closing, and then I fumbled with the handle of my weapon, and my head began to ache, throbbing in my temples and behind my eyes. I didn't realize I was clenching my teeth until my jaws began to ache; but I could tell Beks was doing the same thing. Danny had folded his hands behind his back, trying and utterly failing to look calm.

It's all right, Cassidy, said Eframe in my head, speaking only to me this time. Here.

You know that sensation you get when you're so utterly exhausted that you doze off in class, or at the lunch table? That feeling of extreme heaviness and drowsiness, and the feeling that you've missed some time and can't really remember what's been going on?

That's kind of how it was. Except somehow, I knew what was going on, and I knew I'd know everything later. But right then, time passed breezily by my conscious mind while my subconscious witnessed things, stored them away, saved them for later. Like the way Beks closed her eyes, the way her hands were clenched so tight her nails probably drew blood. And the way Danny was furiously digging at the sand with one foot, trying to distract himself. And the way my hand was suddenly steady on the handle, but not because Ii had readied myself to do this – just because I was dreamy and drowsy and not really thinking.

And, of course, the flash of light. The bright beam that sent Beks sprawling, sending up sand all around her. But God, the worst thing was the sound that bubbled from her mouth when she tried, reflexively, to breathe. Her chest heaved, and under normal circumstances it'd have sounded like she was gargling water. But we all knew she wasn't. Even if we had, the way her eyes widened in terror and then glazed over, and the way she convulsed and then fell limp, and the way her mouth fell open and you could see blood – that would have proved the total lack of innocence in that sound.

By that time, the drowsiness had worn off, and I heard it with all the clarity of someone who is far, far too alert. Danny and I watched each other for a moment, and we made sure not to look at Rebekah, whose blood was still flowing – and how could anyone ever have that much in them? – or Morgan, whose shirt was stained with his own blood, just dried. We stood there quietly for a while, neither speaking, and I figure both of us still in shock.

"Cass. Put it away."

"What?" I didn't really hear what he had said – I could tell he was speaking, and the shell-shocked tone of his voice struck home, but the words went right over my head.

He pointed at the gun, which was still raised and gripped too tightly in my right hand. "Put it away."

Pause. A pause that stretched longer and longer, until finally – finally – something clicked.

Put it away.

"Oh."

I didn't really put it away. I just let it fall, slackening my fingers which had been holding so tightly they hurt. It fell onto the sand, and I didn't bother to pick it up again.

Eframe's voice registered in my head, not needing to be filtered through my ears first. As we returned, silently, to the cave, he said, Well done. Did that help?

"Not really."

I tried. Not that far to go now, Cassidy.

"yeah."

But Cassidy, listen to me. I am not sure your plan will work.

"You just said it would." I couldn't really muster up the energy to care at that point; I was just stating facts. I wasn't mad, and I didn't break down (yet). I was simply repeating things he'd told me.

And it may, he conceded. Danny dropped down on his side on the cave floor, lying one cheek against it and closing dull eyes. I dropped down too, a ways away. Eframe continued. It may. But I am not completely sure.

"What do you think I can do?" I asked.

Continue, he said simply. The only part I am worried about is the last one.

The last one. He was only worried about the last phase.

"Why?"

I am only making educated guesses, he said. I think it should work, but I am not completely sure.

"And if it doesn't?"

There was a pause. Do you really wish to know?

I didn't care. If he told me, fine. Just another worry. Just something else to grapple with. And if he didn't tell me, then I could wallow in my ignorance and pretend nothing was wrong. "I don't care," I said.

You may remain here, he said. You may be trapped. But that is only a guess.

"A guess." I'm not sure I was really paying attention to him anymore. I heard the words, and some part of me digested what they meant – that I might be trapped here forever, with no way back. But the rest of me, lethargic and apathetic and trying desperately to deal with suddenly being a murderer, barely registered anything. I was just repeating phrases that got through, and I'm sure Eframe knew that.

He fell silent. So did I. I couldn't seem to get to sleep, though. I laid awake for hours, unable to drift off, as the air got cold and Rebekah's blood slowly dried in the soft night breeze.