“Okay, then let’s put the pistol down.” She was closer now. Just another couple of meters.

“Can’t. Not my call. That son of a bitch knows what I’m trying to do.”

“And what’s that?” She made another step.

“Something you told me. Something Demon remembers.”

“I’ve told you a lot of things.”

A shattered smile crossed his lips. “Got me at an impasse, he does. I do this, or I’ll pull the trigger.”

“He? Demon will make you shoot yourself?”

“Says he won’t lose.” A dry swallow. “And I won’t let him win.”

“Lose how?” Talina was a step away. “You’re sounding crazy.”

She charged her muscles, had to move quetzal-fast to make this work. If she didn’t . . .

“I won’t live like this,” Dek insisted, a trickle of sweat breaking from his hairline. “Not . . . your . . . fault . . . Tal.”

She leaped, levered the pistol away from his head as it discharged into the air with a loud crack. She pulled his arm down, hammered it to stun the nerve, and pried the pistol from his fingers. Let it drop beside her rifle. As she did, to her horror, Dek pivoted on his heel. She grabbed for him as he started to fall. Tried to pull him back.

As he overbalanced, he reached out, ripped her hand free of his sleeve.

That instant fixed in her memory: Dek’s face, eyes alight with triumph, a victorious smile on his lips. The expression was jubilant as he toppled into the abyss. And then he was gone.

Talina fought for balance, only to have one of the broken and cracked stones beneath her foot give way.

And then she was falling, tumbling, twisting. The world spun, water oddly frozen in motion beside her. Paralyzed she watched the boiling water come close as she fell headfirst . . .

53

Michaela had barely slept. Kept reliving the horror of the entire day: from Toni’s paralysis, the fateful deployment of the submarines, the lobster monster, the loss of Varina Tam and Jaim Elvridge, and finally Kim Yee’s unnerving fate.

How much more can we take? Michaela fought tears, wanted nothing more than to lock herself in her quarters and scream into the silence of her room. And, damn it, her fractured arm kept aching.

My people need me.

That one baseline had kept her sane through all those years aboard Ashanti. Now, like festering acid, it ate at her. Forced her to dress despite her broken arm, to gird herself, and open the door. She checked the monitors in her office. Still no sign of the second sub, no distress signal, no bobbing hull visible out among the swells. Even with full power, the sub’s oxygen regeneration was long depleted. Varina and Jaim were dead. No hope remained.

Calling up all the dignity of a prisoner facing the gallows, she made herself enter the cafeteria.