“Shit,” Tilly mouthed, breathing nervously. One of them was armed. She considered her options. She could take them by surprise. She could try to negotiate with them. She could retreat and call for backup. She could flee. None of the options thrilled her, especially without knowing Rick’s status, but she had to move now, before things escalated further.

She decided to check on Rick. “Rick, are you alive?” she shouted over her left shoulder, revealing herself.

“Yeah, they’ve got my gun,” he yelped back, his voice curt.

“Kids, I know that you have no reason to trust me after what he’s done, but please return his gun to me. I promise that I will not harm you.”

No one responded, not even Rick.

Tilly spoke again. “I’m going to kick my gun across the doorway, disarming myself. Please do the same.”

“Jesus Christ, Tilly, just come in here and fucking shoot them. I’m fucking dying in here!” Rick hissed.

Tilly paused. Maybe Rick was right. What was she doing? Every bullet in her clip was backed and approved by the entire federal government. A legion of judges, secretaries, bailiffs, senators, congressional aides, and analysts had authorized these bullets to take any path she chose, any trajectory she willed. She had a license to kill and a warrant to do it at her discretion. Why was she hesitating?

She sucked in a deep breath, harboring the air in her chest, relishing its presence even as it transformed into an absence, a vacuum of unwanted gas.

Exhaling, she pivoted into a crouch, positioning herself in the center of the open doorway. Rick had lied again, she realized too late, diving forward as bullets sped past her, one acquiring a chunk of her left ear. On her belly, she fired back twice, both bullets striking Rick in his neck, toppling him over.

Tilly rose slowly, advancing toward Rick’s shaking body. His gun hung limply from contorted fingers. Tilly kicked it toward the doorway, holstering her own gun. Silently, she examined him. He was still alive, but he seemed to be frozen in an eternity of pain. His entire face was a grimace, every crevice broadcasting some unspeakable distress. Tilly stared directly at him as his body began to violently shake, blood fleeing his wounds. He didn’t look back at her.

Bending down, Tilly closed his eyelids and turned to the kids, who were huddled together in a corner. One of them was bleeding, but he was quiet. “What happened here?” she asked calmly.

Kai immediately spoke. “He ambushed us while we were in the middle of bombing. Apollo’s dumb ass said he’d rather die, and Rick shot him in the arm.” She stopped talking to glare at Apollo. “He then told us to continue what we were doing. He said that he ‘had to make us worthy.’”