“Watch her,” Scarecrow says. “I’m going over there to see if I can get a better look. If she moves, break her legs.”

“Yes sir.”

Scarecrow runs out onto the walkway, shooting greyskins on the first floor every couple of seconds while Brandon stands next to me. He stares at me for a long moment, his jaw muscles sliding back and forth. I can tell he’s nervous. But since I know I will soon have the crowbar in my hands anyway, I’m filled with confidence. He only looks away once, and when he does, my knuckles meet the side of his face. He falls to the floor hard and he struggles to get up, but I’ve already got the crowbar in my hands. Before he even gets a chance to realize what just happened, I slam the heavy bar into his face. The sound of cheekbones snapping makes my stomach feel queasy.

I look up at Scarecrow who is none the wiser, and then I look back at the door we just came through. I could run. I could get out of this warehouse right now if I wanted to, but I feel like I have a destiny to end this. I grip the metal firmly and march forward.

I stand on the walkway and I look through the holes in the metal to see the ravenous greyskins calling for me, begging to get a chunk of meat.  I slowly start walking toward Scarecrow and he turns to see me.

He smiles at me bitterly. He holds up his gun and points it at me. I have already watched him shoot at the greyskins. I already know that it’s going to be empty. He pulls the trigger and it clicks. He holds the gun in the air and shrugs. “I guess you have me cornered.”

Even though I’m already expecting it, when he runs at me, I feel surprised. His shoulder rams into me and knocks the wind out of me as we tumble to the floor. The greyskins scream for our blood. I try to shove Scarecrow off with the crowbar but he hits me, grabs at me. I feel his hand around my neck. Perhaps he’s thinking about strangling me, but when his hands grasp my chain, he yanks it off and stands away from me, a look of triumph on his face.

“Did your pitiful boyfriend give you this?” he shouts.

I pull myself up to my feet, crowbar in hand. Anger fills me more than fear. I’m angry at the fact that someone as vile as Scarecrow would hold Hattie’s ring - the same ring that represents Lucas' undying love for me. “Give it back,” I say.