Mad with fear, I dive toward him, my hand seeking the second knife.
Then I stop dead.
I glance down.
I found a knife!
It’s right here — buried in my abdomen.
Titus pulls the blade out slowly and I slump to the ground. Amazingly, I don’t feel a thing. I just stare at the wound and back at him with the wonder of a small child. The muscles in my face relax, and my whole body goes numb.
I know I should lie still and not move an inch; it’ll keep the blood in longer. But I also know it’s over for me. And though I’ve never thought about my death before — not really — I know I want to die on my feet.
I struggle to stand and Titus takes a few steps back, like he can’t believe his eyes. Then his face changes, twists with a sinister shadow.
“Your will to survive was cool at first, baby,” he says. “But now it’s getting irritating.” He tosses his bloodied blade to the ground. “As much as I’m starting to hate you, I’m not sure I can kill you myself. But I can let gravity do that for me.”
I stumble backward, but pause as a thought occurs to me. I don’t want to fall to my death. But maybe if he shoves me off the ledge, I can take him along. Give the other Contenders a chance to finish the race without him … out there.
Titus rushes toward me. But before he can cross the distance between us, something blocks his path.
His claws are four inches long.
He weighs over eight hundred pounds.
And he’s moving toward Titus, a terrible growl building in his throat.
“AK-7, stand down,” he says, trying to step around the bear. But the bear cuts him off. “I said, get the fuck out of my way.”
The grizzly bear rises up on his hind legs. His back swells. And he releases a roar that makes my blood run cold.
He’s protecting me, I realize. AK-7 is protecting me.
I can hardly make out Titus behind the beast, but I can see his face — and the moment he understands. He reaches behind his back and withdraws the last knife. The other is still on the ground, too far away for either of us to reach it.
“Come on, then!” Titus screams. “Come at me!”
The bear lands on all fours and races in his direction. And even though Titus is insane, he does something that surprises me still — he runs toward the bear. At the last second, before they collide, Titus lays himself out like he’s diving for home base. He slides beneath the bear’s legs and comes out the other side — directly in front of me. Bolting to his feet, his thigh gushing blood, he grabs me by the neck and drags me toward the ledge.
AK-7 roars again, but stops when Titus jabs his knife under my chin. My feet all but dangle off the side of the formation, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
This is it, I think. My last thought isn’t of my brother. Or my mom or dad. It’s of Guy. The way his face changes when he smiles. The way he never cracks his damn thumbs. I think about his love of newspapers, how he likes the way the pages sound in his hands. And I admit, for the first time, that when he said that, I imagined one day we’d sit at a breakfast table together — me in my leopard-print slippers and Guy crinkling his beloved paper. That we’d be together. Away from the race and the fear of losing those we love.
A breeze blows across my face and I snap my eyes open, expecting to be falling. To be one heartbeat shy of death.
But I’m not falling.
And when I realize what I’m seeing, my whole body shakes with excitement.
It’s RX-13, flying three feet away, her wings beating the hot desert air. But then I realize I’m not quite right. And I laugh aloud again when I notice the burning green eyes.
My little Madox.
I clamp a hand over my wound, suddenly fighting to stay alive. At that exact moment, Titus slams his hand over my mouth.
“Don’t think because Green Eyes came back, you’re going to live,” Titus snarls. “Then again, maybe you will. Let’s see! Why don’t you give him a command? Tell him to save you. And if he does, we’ll all live happily ever after.” Titus roars with laughter and presses his hand down harder. “Go ahead, tell him what you need.”
Titus doesn’t know Madox can’t understand me. That he’s never understood. But then again, that’s not exactly true. More than anyone, my fox has gotten me. He always knew what I needed without my saying a word. With only a thought, it seems.
Something boils deep within me. It splits me in half, mends me back together. A calm slides over my body, and for the first time in days, I think clearly. I look at Madox, and I speak directly to him — using only my mind.
Tear his eyes out.
Madox screeches and dives toward Titus’s face, talons outstretched.
Behind me, my captor screams with pain. The knife beneath my chin drops away and I twist around. Madox is beating his wings and tearing at Titus’s face. It’s like my Pandora had the same idea — to blind him — but was waiting for me to think the order. I wonder quickly how many other times he’s waited for orders I never gave.
After Madox swoops away, I gasp with horror. Titus’s hands cover his eyes, but I can still see the bright red blood dripping down his cheeks like wet fingers. He teeters toward the edge, and without thinking, I reach out to keep him from falling — then stop myself. But can I really let him fall? And if I do, is it me who kills him?
Titus steps closer and closer to the edge, growling in anguish like a monster. I cover my mouth as hot tears sting my eyes. He’s going to fall. He’s going to fall to his death. Not me.
Titus’s foot hits the ledge and his arms pinwheel. He knows he’s going down. I can see it in the way his mouth forms a perfect circle.
But then he stops. Manages to right himself.
And he takes a step toward me, his arms outstretched, eyes bursting with red flesh and blood. Suddenly, I’m not afraid of him falling. I’m afraid of him living.
No sooner than I think this — Titus flies off the side of the ledge.
His body plummets to the earth.
Seconds later, I hear a sickening, wet thud. AK-7 stands where Titus once did, looking down over the ledge. The grizzly shoved him off. And now the creature gazes at me with fear, backing away, afraid I’m going to hurt him for what he did. But all I want to do is throw my arms around his neck.
So I do.
The animal grunts when I fall against him. His muscles tense against my embrace, but then the creature relaxes and nudges his head into my side. Seconds later, I feel a second head nudging my other side. When I turn, I see Madox dressed as a twin bear. He must think this is what I want. I laugh and hug my Pandora, overwhelmed with love for these animals who have saved me.
Pulling away, I press down on my stomach. I can’t inspect the wound again. I’m afraid I’ll faint if I do. I also know I don’t want to look at Titus’s body, but that I must. Stepping toward the side, I glance over. One look is all it takes. He’s facedown on the ground, his head turned to the side. A stream of blood flows from his open mouth and from his leg.
He’s dead.
I step back and — after suffering a wave of dizziness — nearly tumble over the side myself. Touching a sticky hand to my forehead, I realize I have to get to base camp. Titus stabbed me only minutes ago, but already I feel light-headed and weak. He must not have hit a major organ or whatever. Otherwise, I’d already be toast.
Adding to my wooziness are raw nerves. My stomach twists when I think about saving Cody. With my injury, I don’t have much choice but to seek medical attention. But I pray Guy gets to base camp soon. And that he’ll help me find a way to continue the race without having to harm a Pandora. I have to believe it isn’t over. Not when I chose to do what I believe is right.