I dive for his legs, my cheeks scraping against the long grass. My shoulder slams into his knees hard enough to knock my teeth together. Hard enough to bring him down. I scramble on top of him in an instant, sinking my knife through his snake and his wrist before he can regain control of the gun. It falls from his grasp. I grab for it as his other fist smashes into the side of my head, sending me sprawling. Pain races from my ear to my jaw as one side of my vision blackens.

I spit dry grass from my mouth as I force myself to roll over onto my back.

The sky sits blank and calm above me. No clouds. A shadow looms across me as Ethan drops to his knees beside me. Blood drips from his wrist to my face as he places the gun just above my nose.

“I win.”

Nadine crashes into his side, flinging him onto the ground next to me. She holds a hand on one shoulder where blood leaks through her fingers.

My head twists to Ethan beside me, but he hasn’t even lifted his pistol. The expression on his face is relieved for one second before it hardens. “I thought I killed you.”

“You’re not as good of a shot as you think.” Nadine focuses on me. “Are you okay?”

I nod—too stunned to answer.

“Good, ’cause I’m finished. This is real, Ava.” She holds up her bloody palm. “Sam wouldn’t want me to die looking for her.” Her face turns bleak. “Not when she’s probably dead herself.” She spins around and shouts in every direction. “I’m done with this shit.”

“Nadine, wait!” I struggle to my feet, but it’s too late. A thick swirl of fog surrounds her, and she’s gone.

The ground erupts beneath us, cracking and sliding to pieces, and I don’t have time to dwell on my guilt. We fall into the same dense smoke that took Nadine moments before.

I hit coldness and scramble to my feet, bracing for an attack. I find Ethan ten feet from me, gun trained in my direction.

I bare my teeth, sinking into the wild part of me I always kept just beneath the surface. But even though his gun is on me, Ethan’s turning his head, taking in our surroundings.

“We have other problems,” he says. He lowers the gun, keeping his finger on the trigger.

It’s enough for me to take my eyes off him.

We’re back in the center of the room, although I’m sure we never really left. The audience is there, leaning toward us, eyes greedy for our blood, safely behind a thick pane of glass like we’re in a giant fish tank. I glance up at the solid glass ceiling over our heads and know in my bones that I’m not going to like anything that comes next.