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With a swift flick of her wrist, Amzi’s mother dug the knife into her torso, and ran like a coward.
Amzi’s shriek of pain and betrayal pierced through the flames. Altan froze. He could only watch as she dropped to her knees, clutching the open wound. To his horror, blood began to ooze from between her fingers, dripping to the stone floor.
Amzi lifted her trembling hand and used the last of her standing strength to reach inside her jacket for the hidden weapon, and her hands closed around the cool metal. She pointed it at her father, and pulled the trigger.
A bullet shot through his head. He dropped to his knees, and then face down on the floor.
Amzi stared at him, producing almost as much blood as her. Then, she collapsed and her head hit the floor with a thud.
It was Altan’s father’s turn to freeze. Amzi was bleeding out fast... but so was her father. Neithers’ survival was guaranteed if they both did nothing.
Locked in a strange stalemate, Altan stared at his father, scanning his body language to read his next move. Altan couldn’t shoot his father without guaranteeing a bullet in Amzi’s skull; Altan’s father couldn’t shoot his son without an inevitable bullet in himself.
A beam came loose with a crackling of wood. Altan reacted faster, ducking out of the way. His father was pinned beneath it, his left arm and leg trapped and burning. He let out a horrific screech of pain as the fire burned him.
“Don’t move. Or I’ll shoot,” Altan said through clenched teeth. His heart thudded in his chest hard enough to reach every part of his body.
Still keeping his gun aimed at his father, Altan knelt down at Amzi’s side, rolling her over onto her back. He propped her head on his knees, and bent her legs to keep at least some blood near her heart.
She coughed weakly, her eyelashes fluttering open. “Well whaddya know,” Amzi said through gritted teeth, like every word took another ten years off her life. Blood dripped from the open hole in her stomach, pooling on the floor. “It really doesn’t hurt that much...”
“No no no no , please... don’t say that,” he pleaded, holding her upright by the shoulders. “You’ll survive this, you will, I promise you!”
Amzi’s eyes began to flutter shut. “Come on Amzi, you’re not done. Not here! Think of your family, think of your friends, and me- I’m your friend too!”
“We’re more than that- we’re trauma fused.” Amzi whispered in what could only be excitement, making whooshing noises.
“What?!” Altan said. Shock is one hell of a drug. They were both high as hell on 667 already, but maybe this would be the final straw to her immune system.
“We’re like a coupl’a wires, fused together with those blue torch thingies... we really are like siblings now.” Altan couldn’t stop the frown of confusion spreading on his face. “Sorry. I’m really damn high right now.”
“That’s ok.” Altan smiled softly. His eyes trailed down her body to the sight of the wound. It looked ten times worse than before, somehow: blood was oozing out with worrying urgency, and Amzi’s hand was slowly slipping to her side. His calming smile faltered. Anxiety pounding in his mind, he didn’t notice the beginning of the police sirens in the distance, nor the other cult leaders running for the other doors.
“If this is how you really want to die, then... ok. If you don’t want to get out of here-”
“Please.” Amzi’s soft, green eyes were pleading. “Save yourself. Free the prisoners, go back home. Find Ms Cassidy and Ms Anderson. They really care about you, Altan.”
With a bang, another explosion near the back of the building went off. And with the colossal sound, came a moment of startling, shock-induced clarity.
“Amzi... I can’t leave you to die.” Altan sobbed, tears dropping onto her jacket.
“Yes you can.” A small smile ghosted over Amzi’s face. Altan knew that look. “I’m ready. Don’t be sad, fratello. I lived a good life. For some of it, at least.”
“Amzi, please... ” Altan pleaded for what felt like the thousandth time that night. “You can’t die on me. Not like this.”
“Why not? The mission’s over. I’m pretty comfy. And it’s even warm.” Amzi giggled like a child in a candy store and not a teeager on 667 and the brink of death. She winced as she moved, tightening the hold on her stomach.
“That would be the fire.” Altan somehow laughed.
“Can you sing? For me.” Amzi asked. Altan couldn’t say no. How could he- she was dying, and she’d accepted it. What kind of a person would he be if he abandoned someone so young and pained?
He didn’t know a lullaby, so he sang the song Amzi had sung to him when he couldn’t sleep with nerves the first night they were back in the cult. She had risked everything so Altan could sleep.
He could at least let her fall asleep with something nice in her ears.
“ Hush little baby, don’t you cry, everything’s gonna be alright. Stiffen that upper lip up little lady, I told ya, daddy’s here to hold ya through the night. ” Sobs choked his throat, and he had to make himself stop, unable to continue.
“Thank you Altan,” Amzi beamed, letting her eyes flutter shut. “That was beautiful.”
Tears flooded his eyes. She looked dead. She was dead. Was she? He didn’t dare tear his fingers away from her neck, where a weak pulse still beat.
“Amzi, please ... hang in there.”
Tears flooded his eyes, tuning the fire to a wash of glowing yellow, he let himself mourn. Just for a few more moments.
She didn’t deserve to die. He at least deserved to mourn her.