Dunne's eyes locked on the barrel of the machine gun as Weed aimed it at him. He shook as he waited for the killing shot.
But he did not pray. He was terrified...but part of him believed he deserved what was coming. Part of him believed the shot was long overdue.
For two years, he had imagined that every truck backfire, slamming door, and bump in the night was this shot...the shot that should have killed him instead of his wife and daughter. Now that it was finally here, he almost felt relieved. He could almost feel Vicky and Ella in the Team Room with him, smiling approvingly, ghostly arms outstretched forgivingly.
But the shot did not come.
Dunne heard the motorcycles tear past again, just outside the Team Room. Weed tossed the machine gun back to his Asian bride and stomped up the steps to the upper level of the room.
"Time for the endgame, my lovelies!" Weed threw open the door in the far corner, and the Team Room flooded with bright sunlight from outside. "This is what I call shooting tadpoles in a barrel!"
The brides cleared away from the doorway. Every gun swung around to point in that direction.
Dunne looked at Hannahlee, and she was looking at Weed. "Stop this right now," she said. "No killing."
Weed chuckled and cupped a hand behind his ear. "Can't hear you, sweetheart! Tell me later, after we've killed these damned Willows!"
Hannahlee took a step toward him. "You do realize this isn't really Posse Ranch, don't you? And you're not Jeremiah Weed? And all this is based on a TV show called Weeping Willows?"
"I love you, too, honey drawers!" said Weed. "Now make yourself useful and jump around some, so they can see you better out there."
Hannahlee stood for a moment and glared up at him. Dunne imagined he could see the beam of her emerald gaze like a bead of light from the laser sight of a gun, dancing across Weed's forehead.
Then, Hannahlee burst into action, vaulting onto the upper tier at Weed's feet. Before anyone could react, she tackled him backward, bringing the contents of a bookshelf down over them.
As Hannahlee wrestled the burly, fur-coated Weed, his brides swung their guns around to point at them both. No one took a shot, though...probably because Hannahlee and Weed were tangled together.
Dunne watched from the center well, wondering what was going to happen next. Hannahlee couldn't possibly beat burly Weed in hand-to-hand combat...or could she?
Hannahlee and Weed continued to struggle. The Rainbow Brides kept their guns aimed at them but did not intervene...at least at first. The Asian bride finally stepped closer and poked her machine gun at the back of Hannahlee's head.
"Hannahlee!" said Dunne.
Just then, the roar of an engine filled the room. Dunne turned in time to see one of the motorcycles surge through the doorway from outside.
Before anyone could shoot or take aim or anything, the red-helmeted rider—whom Dunne knew was Agent Mohican—charged along one arm of the upper level. Brides leaped out of his path and dove into the center well to avoid being run down.
At that point, Weed managed to pry off Hannahlee and pitch her aside. Yanking a pistol out of a pocket of his gray fur coat, he swung it around to target Agent Mohican.
Which is exactly when the second motorcycle burst into the room.
This time, the bike came from inside the house, blasting through the doorway through which the redheaded bride had led Dunne. The rider wore a white helmet and a pukka shell choker with an orange starfish pendant.
It was Leif Willow.
The second motorcycle drew some fire as it zipped along the other arm of the upper tier. The rounds all missed, though, and struck unintended targets—like the TV set in the corner, which exploded and caught fire as the bike passed. Not a single shot hit the rider as he darted forward, driving the remaining brides into the well to join the first batch.
Meanwhile, Agent Mohican swept to a stop just short of Weed, who had swung his pistol toward Leif and was now swinging it back. If Weed could get off a shot, Dunne knew he was bound to hit Mohican.
Right at that moment, though, an amplified voice boomed into the room, and everyone stopped what they were doing.
"What the hell is going on up there?" It was a man's voice, a baritone with a raspy edge. Dunne thought it sounded vaguely familiar.
He also thought it sounded like it was coming from the burning TV set.
"What are you even doing up there?" said the voice. "I thought I told you all to go home."
Leif took off his helmet. "Father Gowdy?" He turned to look at the TV. "We thought you were dead."
Gowdy paused. "Maybe I am dead and gone to Heaven. Is that Lianna Caprice there with you?"
All eyes sought out Hannahlee, who was pulling herself together in the central well. She looked around with no reaction.
She raised her voice to reach whatever mics were in the room. "It's me."
"Incredible." Gowdy paused for a long moment. "I'll bet I haven't seen you in twenty years."
"That's about right," said Hannahlee.
Just then, Leif interrupted. "We need your help, Father. Weed has taken over New Justice. The Willows have almost all been captured or killed."
"So bring them back," said Gowdy. "Start a new role-play scenario."
"There are no scenarios," said Leif. "There is no role-play. They're using live ammunition."
"You're joking." Gowdy sounded stunned. "Since when?"
"A year ago," said Agent Mohican. "Since you died."
"I don't understand," said Gowdy. "Weed—Albert—can you tell me what's going on?"
Weed sneered at the burning TV set...then turned the sneer on Leif. "Nice trick."
"You know it's not a trick," said Leif.
"End of the line, boy." Weed brought the pistol up fast and reeled off a shot in Leif's direction. "I win."
Leif spun and gasped as the shot tagged his shoulder. Weed kept the gun aimed at him, ready to fire another round...but he never made it. Before Weed's finger could squeeze the trigger, Agent Mohican lunged forward and grabbed his arm, wrenching it upward. Weed pumped off two more rounds, both hitting the ceiling.
That seemed to be the signal for everything to go crazy. The Rainbow Brides all started shooting at once. Leif took another bullet and fell off his bike, which lurched out from under him and toppled down into the well. A squad of Weed's gunmen stormed in from the house, just as two more motorcycles darted in from outside with Kenya Willow and Gary Escuchar onboard.
In the middle of it all, as gunshots whizzed by, Dunne and Hannahlee huddled together, keeping their heads as far down out of the firing line as they could.