She raised her head but only so that she could stare at me, incredulous and unfriendly.

Benny clicked his handbrace back into place around his wrist, then stood up, turned to face one of the toilets, and unzipped his fly.

“Oh, that was a joke, not a command,” I said.

“I’m not going to try to escape with piss in my pants.”

“Will those even still flush?”

“No.” The echo of liquid on metal punctuated his words. “Sinks won’t run, either. This ship has some sort of self-repair systems or it wouldn’t be intact, but they don’t seem to be working this close to the hull. Deeper in, there’s probably running water.”

He finished up, shook himself.

“I don’t want to smell your piss the whole time we’re here,” Quint muttered into her knees.

Benny turned around, still tucking himself back into his pants. “If you were smart you’d do the same. How about it, Sean? You wanted the lead on this; when do we escape?”

I glanced back at Indigo, still crouched down beside the little gap in the collapsed wall. Far enough away that he probably couldn’t hear us.

“There’s only one of them here with us now,” Quint whispered. “The others are still in the tunnel.”

But Indigo was the scariest of them all, except for One. He’d singlehandedly taken the four of us down a few hours ago, and that was when we’d had our weapons on us. “We wait,” I said. “If we make a move to leave, he’ll just turn around and grab us.”

A screaming, grinding noise called my attention back to Indigo. He was crouched at the opening, which seemed smaller than before. His arm was held at an odd angle within the opening, his shoulders stiff. The pile of debris had shifted, I realized—it was about to collapse. While the Ministers were still inside.

And Indigo, holding the opening in place, was pinned down.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

Missed Chances

Indigo held the passage open with one arm. He needed help, I thought, and then I realized that he was stuck there holding the passage open. He couldn’t move.

If we ran, now, he couldn’t chase us.

I reached down to Quint, beckoning her up. She stood, slowly and quietly, and I glanced around for the door. We could get there before Indigo could free himself. He didn’t even seem to notice us, too focused on trying to hold the opening up. I could see the strain in his narrow shoulders.

Strain, because he was struggling to save them.

Those were his people in there.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Benny raising his braced arm, aiming at Indigo.

It was like right before Leah had died, when I’d seen what would happen before she’d done it, like I had a limited prescience for blood. Except this time, it wasn’t Benny’s death I foresaw. Indigo had his hands both in the opening. He couldn’t block a bullet this time, the way he had with Leah. Benny would shoot him, but such a low-caliber bullet wouldn’t kill Indigo instantly, not with Benny’s aim. He’d be wounded, die slow. Probably die still trying to hold open that opening for his companions, bleeding out in slow and desperate agony.