I shrugged. “When we get back into prison, I’ll need you to kill a few people. I want a private cell.”
“I can do that.”
Outside a voice called, “Dig Graves and Delphine De Astor come out here and die!”
42
My heart ballooned and thrashed in my ribcage.
For people who were chaotic criminals, they were marvellous at organising themselves.
At least a hundred Soulless stood outside on the streets, wearing their own blood and the blood of their prey, brandishing weapons and carnivorous grins.
Drones hovered overhead.
The clock ticked.
Twenty minutes until the Battle was over.
Enough time for an episode of a comedy show, for a good morning yoga stretch, for a hearty breakfast.
Instead of choosing any of the available alternatives in spending their last moments not locked away in a prison cell, the inmates had decided instead to focus on the demise of Dig Graves and myself.
The drone junkies were dressed in new garb: purple sequined dresses, their hair piled high with big bows. They put on a flashy song on their solar speaker and started up a dance routine, each move flawless. The beat was catchy, I tapped my foot.
Fiona’s traps had already been destroyed; the inmates began to head to the front door.
The four of us scrambled inside, pulling on clothing, snatching weapons, arming ourselves.
“You’ll run out the back with Tommy and Fiona.” Dig grabbed me and planted a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll go out the front and fight them. It will be enough of a distraction for you to run away. Get somewhere safe. The Battle is almost over.”
I snatched his wrists, my heart pounding. Vomit threatened to rise. “And what about you? How will you fight them for the full twenty minutes alone and survive?”
He looked at me for a long moment, but I knew it was fleeting. Perhaps only a second in time, but to me it was eternity. I searched those dark eyes of his with foolish despair that he had another plan.
“It’s going to be okay.” He smiled at me.
It was not.
“I’ll be fine.”
He would not.
“We’ll see each other soon.”
We would not.
Oh, he was such a lovely liar. Those words of his I drank up like priceless honey and I lived the fairytale he spread out of me.
“Dig,” I breathed out his name. I hunched over a little from the ache in my heart. Whatever kind of fear this was, it was burdening. “I don’t want you to die.”
His smile was weak. There were doors shutting up inside of him, windows being locked. “I love you, Princess.”
No. Don’t leave me. Not like this. I had spent my life auditioning people to love me, and here was this man, this single soul who had sat patiently and waited for me. “Come with us.” My nails dug so deep into his skin I pricked him with half-moons. He started to bleed. “We will all run for twenty minutes, come with us.”
He kissed me hard. “Go!”
Fiona grabbed my arm and tugged me as Dig turned to the front door. He pulled on his glower and did not wear sunglasses. He wore his eyes with dignity, with pride, and snatched out his blades with a thirst as if he were about to rip earthquakes into the world.
