The Deadly Nightshade (27 page)

He stares at me for a moment, his pained expression indicating how much my words have hurt him. “So what?” he mutters.

“So what?
So what?”
I hiss. “Do you want to die, Connor? Is that what you want?”

“What the fuck would it matter if I did?” he explodes, his voice breaking and his eyes growing misty. “Without you and without these people I would’ve been dead a long time ago anyway. I’m living on borrowed time, Nightshade. What does it matter if I die?”

I stare at him, trying to form an argument but finding no words. In that moment I know there is nothing I can say or do to convince him. If there’s one thing I have learned about Connor in my time knowing him, it’s that he is stubborn beyond belief. If this is what he wants, I will never be able to change his mind. All I can do is acquiesce. His bullheadedness will be his demise.

“Alright,” I whisper, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pressing his forehead against mine. “Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Please, Connor.”

His lips curl upward in a wry grin and his blue eyes gleam with mischief. “No promises.”

Reina clears her throat to get our attention. “The last of them have just filed in,” she says. “It is time.”

We follow her back down the stairs and into the bomb shelter, where the rest of Sweetbriar waits anxiously for their leader’s arrival. They are already chattering loudly before we enter, each and every person trying to ascertain some idea of what is going on, but when they catch sight of Connor and me the volume seems to triple. Nate approaches our trio and quickly informs us that only four more people have agreed to join the fight, none of whom have ever fired a gun before, but were willing to take a quick demonstration. There is no doubt in any of our minds that we are outmatched, but that doesn’t mean we are defeated.

Before the Sweetbriarans can get out of control again, Reina addresses them. “Now I know you are all wondering what is going on, and the truth is that I have been informed that when daylight breaks Sweetbriar is going to be attacked by the men and women you saw outside our camp. They seek to kill every one of us and take this town as their own, regardless of whether or not we give them Nightshade and Connor. We have overheard their scheming. Roman anticipated we would turn against each other and surrender Nightshade and Connor to save our own lives because it is human nature to be selfish, but what he did not anticipate is that we are not like him and his people. We are not a gang—we are a society. When morning comes, we will fight back against these invaders with all the manpower and firepower we have got. To those who are in this bomb shelter, you are in here for your own protection and I swear I will not let any harm come to you as long as I live. To those who will fight with me, I wish you luck for the last time and I ask you to fight today not only for your own lives, but for the lives of everyone in this room as well.”

The room remains quiet for some time after Reina finishes speaking. Nobody moves. Nobody blinks. Nobody breathes. There is no telling how these people will react to this news—whether they will fly into another rampage or protest or just accept this as their reality. Although only a few seconds pass, it feels like an eternity of silence.

Then, the unthinkable happens: the townspeople actually begin to voice their agreement. I watch in stunned silence as they clap and shout their support and proudly slap those with guns on the back and thank them for what they are about to do for their community. They wish each other luck and hug each other warmly, exchanging “be careful”s and “stay safes”s. They turn to their neighbors and friends and loved ones and whisper tearful goodbyes, words of encouragement, and promises to come back alive that they have no possible way of knowing they will fulfill. As I look around the room at the mass of people who just hours ago had been an angry, violent mob, I realize Reina has done it—she has rallied all of Sweetbriar behind her in the waning minutes of the night and restored their confidence in her leadership. And she will lead them to victory too.

Victory or death.

Chapter 48

With everyone else locked away, the twenty-three of us who have agreed to fight head for the stations Reina has assigned us. As we exit the building, I am struck with awe as I witness the most breathtaking morning I have ever seen. Night has just broken into day, and the glorious sunrise seems to have been painted in the sky by an artist’s hand. Rich violet fades slowly into lavender, mauve, pink and, just peaking over the horizon, the sun bleeds a rich crimson. It’s so strange, how such an ugly day can hold so much beauty, but I can’t say I’m not glad it does; for many of us, this will be the last sunrise we ever see. As I look around at my fellow fighters, all of them painfully familiar, I wonder who will fall today and who will live. I examine face after face, trying to determine whose I am seeing for the last time, wondering if they are all doing the same. Maybe this is the last time I will see
any
of them—maybe this is
my
last morning on this earth.

Reina sets us up in and around the homes closest to the gate. Connor, Sheppard, and I are assigned to the inside of the nearest house on the right side of the street, while Reina, Nate, and another man take the inside of the nearest house on the left. Sophia and Claire are stationed on the roof of my building and two other women are assigned to the roof of Reina’s. The rest either set themselves up inside or around the other nearby houses or climb the sentry ladders and take their place atop the wall.

Connor, Sheppard, and I close ourselves into the house and crouch beneath the windows that face the iron gate. Sheppard pushes them open to give us an area to shoot through, and we each peer over the little ledge to survey the gang. There is a good distance between them and us—around a hundred feet’s worth—a decent buffer zone if they manage to get through the gate, which is locked thanks to the guards Roman murdered. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to shoot them all through the iron bars before they can kill any of our own.

Roman approaches the gate while his gang hangs back, armed and waiting for his command. In fact, they stand a good distance farther from the entrance than they did yesterday which, although it isn’t exactly cause for alarm, strikes me as strange. Either way, they are much easier targets than we are, considering we’ve got every gun in Sweetbriar pointed at that gate, which they have no choice but to go through if they want to get in.

The gang leader swaggers forward with his rifle in his hands, the beginnings of a smile on his weasel face. When he reaches the iron gate, he raps on it a few times with the barrel of his gun, then takes half a dozen large steps backwards. “Rise and shine, people! It’s mornin’!” he shouts. “So what’s it gonna be, Miss Reina? Are ya gonna give over those killers, or am I gonna have to send my friends here into your little camp?”

“I have made my decision,” calls Reina. She exits her house and walks down the cobblestone path toward him, stopping about fifty feet from the gate. Though she holds her weapon at the ready, her position is anything but defensive. Nate, unable to stop her from going, runs out after her in a panic and takes his place at her side, unwilling to let her face these fearsome people alone.

“What’s she doing?” Connor hisses.

“Being a leader,” I whisper. Of course Reina would be the one to place herself directly in the line of fire. She loves these people more than life itself. If Roman wants to get to the rest of them, he will have to get through her first.

“And what might that be, sweetheart?” coos Roman, fidgeting with impatience. “Come on, love, we’re all dyin’ with anticipation.” Then, with a wry smile he adds, “I see ya got yourselves some guns while you were gone. How naughty of ya.”

“We are armed and we will kill anybody who trespasses on Sweetbriar territory or tries to harm one of our own,” she threatens. “
That
is my decision.”

He stares at her for a moment, looking quite taken aback. “Oh,” he says in a voice drenched with surprise, a clear indication that he wasn’t expecting this outcome. “Alright. Very well then.” With that, he turns his back to her and begins to walk toward his people, who look just as puzzled as he does. He gestures to them to follow him and disappears into the crowd. Perplexed, I turn to look at Connor and Sheppard, whose knitted eyebrows indicate they are just as confused as I am. What is Roman doing? Surely he can’t be turning around, not just because of that, not after the threat he made. Is this a trick, or does he really have no plan for this? Could he really have been so sure that our friends would turn on us, that they wouldn’t stand up to him?

I have just lost sight of Roman when I hear a quiet
click
followed closely by a deafening
boom
as the iron gate explodes in a burst of smoke and flame. The iron doors fly off their hinges, landing in the street only a few feet from Reina and Nate, who are blown back by the force of the blast. But our leader does not stay down for long. Forcing herself back to her feet, Reina releases a round of fire at Roman’s gang as they rush for the entrance and shouts at us to do the same.

Connor, Sheppard, and I shoot at our enemies in short bursts, being sure to duck for cover after every few shots so as to decrease our chances of getting hit. Within a matter of seconds, I take down two unsuspecting women with clean shots to the head. Sheppard kills two men and another woman with one clip, taking cover just in time to avoid a round of fire from a man with a machine gun, who I manage to take out with a body shot. But just as I watch my victim flop to the ground, I become aware of an acute burning sensation in my shoulder unlike any I have ever felt before. As I sink to the floor, I press my shaky fingers against the area and examine them to find them covered in blood. Connor looks at me and, realizing I have been shot, turns with fury in his blue eyes and empties the clip of his submachine gun at the man who hit me. After coming to my senses, I pull myself up just in time to watch him shoot the man twice, killing him.

As Connor ducks down to reload, he smiles at me and says, “That felt good. You okay?”

“Not dead yet,” I say.

“Can you still fight?”

“What did I just say?”

The three of us remain crouched beneath the window, waiting for a round of shots to pass as bullets whiz above our heads and sink themselves into the wall behind us. When it is over I raise my guns, ignoring the flaring pain in my shoulder, and attempt to find my next victim. As I survey the blood-soaked cobblestone battleground, I notice an array of bodies near the wall, some of which I recognize and most of which I don’t. Roman does not appear to be among them.

Reina and Nate still remain in the street instead of the house they were supposed to take shelter in, although Nate tries desperately to guide our leader back inside. But Reina ignores him, firing in rapid succession at the encroaching invaders, her red lips curled back and her teeth bared in a vicious snarl. I watch as she hits man after man, not letting up for even a moment until her ammo is depleted. She shouts at Nate to cover her while she reloads, but their opponents have begun to swarm. Six or seven of them advance upon the duo at once, taking advantage of the fact that Reina is temporarily indisposed. Nate dutifully positions himself in front of his leader and releases a volley of gunfire, managing to take down two of the assailants before a burst of blood sprays from his back and he sinks to the ground. His arm twitches once, then his legs, and he is still. The sight makes my stomach turn over, and I feel the urge to vomit.

Reina looks at her fallen lieutenant with wide brown eyes, her face spattered with his blood. Then, with tears streaming down her cheeks, she turns on her attackers with a fury unmatched by any I have ever seen before, shrieking as she rains fire upon them. I am unable to watch what becomes of her; at that moment, two men and a woman burst through the door of the house we are held up in, followed by Roman, whose dark eyes gleam upon seeing me. I fire four times at the man in front, missing the first two shots and shooting him dead with the second two. Realizing I am out of bullets, I eject the two empty magazines while Sheppard kills the other man, leaving only Roman and the woman. But Roman’s gun is already pointed at me before I have a chance to reload, and in that fraction of a second I realize there is nothing I can do but wait to die—no matter how fast I try to dodge the shot, no matter how quickly I reach for the two fresh mags on either side of my belt, it won’t be quick enough. He smiles with satisfaction just before the gun goes off.

“Nightshade!” cries Sheppard, throwing himself in the line of fire just as Roman pulls the trigger. He remains standing after the first shot, but Roman fires again and again, and after the third bullet pierces his chest the preacher falls to the floor. I look at him lying at my feet, his hazel eyes growing cloudy and blood pouring from his abdomen, and suddenly I am watching my father die all over again, suddenly I am that frightened fifteen-year-old girl and my whole world is falling apart before me. But this time I am not helpless.

Feeling a fire in my stomach I thought I had lost forever, I throw my empty guns to the ground, grab a throwing knife in each hand, and hurl them at Roman. Neither hits its mark; he manages to dodge them just in time to avoid being impaled. I rush at him before he can fire off another shot, and the two of us collide in a mass of swinging arms and legs. He struggles to aim his gun at me, but I grab his hand with mine and pound it against the floor until he is forced to release the weapon, which slides away before I can get hold of it. Just as I reach for another knife, I am knocked senseless by the force of Roman’s fist upon my face and I flop, dazed, onto the floor beside him. He pushes himself up and kneels over me before I am able to come to my senses, raining down punches again and again and grunting with each stinging blow he deals me. Soon all I can hear is the sound of his fists cutting through the air and making contact with my skin, the rush of blood pumping in my ears, and my own soft groaning. My nose begins to trickle blood as it cracks under the force of his blows, and then his fist produces a gushing gash under my right eyebrow which leaves me partially blinded.

As I struggle to get Roman off of me, I become aware that Connor is on the other side of the room wrestling with the woman, but he isn’t winning. Through the corner of my good eye I can see her on top of him as they both vie for control of her gun, which goes off a couple of times, firing a spray of bullets into the wall beside them. I want nothing more than to knock that woman off of him, to sink my swords into her flesh, to paint these white walls with her blood—but with Roman to deal with there is nothing I can do to save him, at least not until I can get this brute of a man off of me and end his life.

I kick and scratch and claw at Roman, but no matter what I do the punches keep coming, and soon it is all I can do to cover my face with my fists to protect it. I try to come up with some way to throw him, to stun him long enough to pull out a weapon and kill him, but all I can think about is Connor fighting for his life a few feet away. His wide blue eyes and pained grimace are all I can see as Roman quickly scrambles to his feet and lays a firm kick to my side, crushing the air out of my lungs. Kick after kick lands upon my ribs, and I can feel them on the verge of breaking inside of me. But the blue eyes never leave my mind, and it is then that I realize I am not completely conscious anymore.

“This! Is for! My! Brother!” Roman yells between each rib-crushing kick.

“Your brother was a fucking monster!” I cry just before he lands another blow, bloody spit dribbling from my mouth.

“Ya don’t think I know that?” he shouts, his voice breaking. With my good eye, I am able to catch a glimpse of his reddened, crumpled face as tears begin to rain from his dark eyes. “Ya think I don’t know what kinda man he was? He was still my fuckin’ brother!” With that, he draws his foot as far back as it can go and lands the most excruciatingly painful blow I have ever felt. I hear something snap inside of me.

The kicks stop for a moment and I realize this is my chance to react, but the pain in my side is too great and I cannot move. Instead, I lie there limply until Roman wraps his gigantic hands around my throat and effortlessly lifts me up so that my feet no longer touch the ground. I squirm and struggle as he crushes my windpipe, preventing any air from getting through to my lungs no matter how hard I gasp. I clutch his hands with my own, trying to pry his fingers open, but the more I scratch the harder he presses, and I feel his knuckles crack with the strain. He grins with sick satisfaction as he chokes me, pulling me closer and closer to his face so I am forced to meet his tear-brimmed black eyes. With each passing second I feel myself fading more and more.

This is it, then. This is how I die—alongside Sheppard and Nate and Reina—
and Connor
. I focus on the spot behind Roman’s head where Connor and the woman are still fighting, but now he seems to be the one with the upper hand. He twists the gun between the two of them and manages to point the muzzle at her abdomen despite her effort to force it away. Then the gun goes off once, twice, and she finally stops struggling, falling dead on top of him. Connor’s head hits the floor as his body relaxes and he emits a loud sigh of relief.

He hasn’t yet noticed my predicament, but I know there’s no way he can save me. In a few more seconds, I will be dead and that will be all. But at least I can die knowing Connor is alive, knowing he still has a chance, knowing he may really have a shot at a life with Savannah. At least he will live—my companion, my friend. At least he will survive.