Paul Kane - Broken Arrow

Mary began to move her hand slowly, down and sideways.

"Then he headed across to England. I suppose he thought he could start again. I can understand him wanting to come, I spent some time here myself in my teens. Mastered the 'lingo' pretty well, too, don't you think?" For this last bit Adele's accent jolted back to British, but when she spoke again she didn't bother hiding her true voice, her native accent. "So I followed his trail. All I wanted to do was meet him, get to know him, non? But by the time I got over here it was already too late. He really was dead this time. He'd been murdered."

Mary's trembling fingers made their way slowly towards the Peacemaker sticking out of the front of her jeans.

"Strange thing was, he'd been killed by someone wearing a hood, carrying a bow and arrow. A legend. And why was he killed?"

"Because he was a sadistic scumbag," Mary said seriously. "Because he took delight in other people's pain."

Adele shook her head. "Spin, created by those who slaughtered him in cold blood. He had power; he was The Sheriff!"

"He was going to hang people, Adele — if that's really your name."

"It is."

"He kidnapped me and put a sabre to my throat."

"Having spent time with you, I can certainly understand that." Adele's false smile now looked even more wrong. "My mother kept me from getting to know my father-"

"Wise woman," Mary broke in.

Adele scowled. "Then you people kept him from me forever . Well, I decided it was time you paid."

"So you thought you'd worm your way in here, have us all at each other's throats? Was that the plan?" Mary's fingers inched a little nearer to the handle.

"Sort of," admitted Adele. "I believe my father used to use the same methods of infiltration, to get inside his enemies' lairs. But it was always going to come to this in the end."

"It was no coincidence that Robert picked you up in York, was it?"

Adele shook her head. "Hardly. I've been studying the cult's movements, and Robert's, for longer than any of you realise. It wasn't hard to put myself in harm's way, to orchestrate a little… rendezvous."

Her fingers were almost there, just a fraction more. Careful, Mary, said her brother, which made her even more on edge. He only called her by her real name when he was angry with her or feared for her safety. She's crazier than her old man was.

"I must say, I can see why you're attracted to him," Adele stared at her, the tears all but dried up. "Under different circumstances and if I didn't hate his guts, maybe… Wouldn't be exactly difficult to come between you two, not with all the problems you've both got."

"You didn't come between anyone," Mary said defiantly.

"Right," replied Adele in a tone that made Mary want to punch her in the face.

"Look, we don't have much time. We're all in danger from The Tsar and-"

"Ah yes, The Tsar. An interesting twist," Adele said, stepping forward. "Even I had not foreseen that. I thought I would have to do this alone, but now… Maybe he might want to join forces, do you think?"

Hearing her talk like this, and now seeing her face — her true face — for the first time, Mary couldn't believe she'd been so blind. But then, how could anyone have known about Adele's real origins? She'd been so clever at hiding them. And in a post-apocalyptic world what did anyone really know about anyone?

"Especially if I give him a little inside help. It was only what I was going to do anyway, now that a good portion of your compliment are absent… or dead." She said this last bit with such hope, Mary made a grab for her gun — pulling out the Peacekeeper, cocking it, and pointing it at Adele's head. Adele didn't seem surprised; in fact she smiled again. That same crooked smile. De Falaise's smile. Mary was hardly likely to forget it.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Adele told her, then brought up her hands, turning around and showing what she was holding. A live grenade. "The pin's already pulled, in case you were wondering. All I have to do is let go of the trigger. I go, you go with me."

Damn it, said David in her head. What are you going to do now, sis? Mary didn't have a clue. She couldn't even tell Adele to drop her weapon, or they'd both go up.

Adele offered a solution. "So, I suggest you let me walk out of here with these." She shifted to one side, nodding down at a bag on the floor. Open, because Mary had disturbed her in the act, it contained a rifle, handgun, some more grenades, and what looked to be a mini-bazooka.

"You're not coming past me," Mary said. God knows what kind of damage she'd do with those, and at a time when they might be under attack from the outside as well.

"I don't have to," Adele barked. "I know there are other ways in and out of here." She grabbed the bag then walked backwards, picking her way through the Aladdin's cave of weaponry.

Mary's gun arm wavered. "Don't."

"You are not in any position to give me orders."

Mary hated to admit it, but Adele was right. All she could do was watch her as she retreated. When she was a good way off, Adele smiled again.

"I would like to say it has been nice knowing you, but…" Adele let the sentence tail off, then tossed the grenade at Mary.

Instinctively, Mary took a shot, but the woman was already gone. Then her eyes dropped to the grenade bouncing into the middle of the arsenal.

"Nuts," said Mary under her breath.

Run, Mary, run! shouted her brother, but she didn't need to be told, her legs were already in motion. She pelted out the way she had come, making it to the steps and almost all the way up them when the explosion came.

The blast rocked the cave, blowing dust, sandstone, and Mary out with it, causing a section near the exit to fall in just behind her. She felt something heavy land on her leg, pinning her to the steps, pain following.

Mary could see the light above, the open gate, but couldn't move. She reached out her hand, yet in spite of the efforts of her brother to keep her awake, Mary found herself blacking out. It sounded like another explosion went off then, but that one was distant. She let it go, able only to focus on one thing.

Her final thoughts were of Robert, Adele's words echoing in her mind.

Absent… or dead

Absent…

Or dead.

They were all dead.

Piled up, in front of The Tsar. And he was looking down on them with such a satisfied smile on his face. Mary, Tate, Sophie, Mark. And finally Jack, thrown down there by the giant Tanek, while the two Asian women looked on, swords drawn, ready to protect their Lord with their lives if necessary.

At The Tsar's feet was the suited man, crawling, half dead; one of his hands missing and blood staining his shirt from the belly wound that Dale had given him. All around them the forest was on fire. It was being attacked by the troops they'd found on the battlefield, trees mowed aside by armoured vehicles. The sound of chopper-blades could be heard overhead.

On his knees, Robert made an effort to get up and rush forward, to take revenge for the deaths of the people he loved. But he found he couldn't move. It was like he was stuck, his limbs unable to respond to his commands. His eyes were about the only things that could, and when he dipped them, he saw a light coating of fur on his chest, on his entire body (though he couldn't reach up this time — Robert didn't even think he had hands — he knew there would be antlers on his head). His shoulder was bleeding profusely, and so was his thigh.

But there was something else. A figure behind The Tsar. A woman. He recognised her short black hair, the pretty but tight features, instantly.

It was the woman he'd saved from the cultists. Adele. Indeed, the closer he looked at the soldiers flanking them, the more he saw their number amongst the troops: the robed men with machetes here and there, blending in with The Tsar's fighters.