Brandt’s head ached, but he didn’t allow the slow, throbbing pain nagging at his brain to distract him as he eased into the room, his gun out, his eyes struggling to penetrate the oppressive darkness around him. Alicia was in there somewhere. He knew it instinctively, just as he knew that at least one of his bullets had found its mark. He strained his ears, relying on one of his better senses when his eyesight was useless. He heard Cade’s soft breathing behind him, her boots brushing against the carpeted floor. He didn’t want to imagine how sore she would be if they made it until morning, especially after the beating she’d taken at Alicia’s hands.
A pained intake of breath nearby drew Brandt’s attention to his right. He looked in that direction and grabbed for Cade, tugging her closer to him. “Flashlight,” he said in her ear. “You still got one?”
“Yeah, here,” Cade breathed back. She slapped a small flashlight into his hand, and he wrapped his fingers around its cool metal casing.
“Be ready,” Brandt warned simply. He didn’t have to voice anything else. He and Cade were so in sync now that he knew she’d understand exactly what he meant.
“Always,” she murmured back.
Brandt found the switch on the flashlight and flipped it on. The bluish-white light spilled into the room, bringing everything in its path into sharp focus. He slowly edged to the right and shone his light in that direction. The first thing the beam lit on was a smear of blood on the otherwise clean cream-colored carpet. He followed the drips and smears and found Alicia at the end of the trail, sitting against a door leading to another attached conference room. A red smudge was on the white door near the knob, as if she’d tried to escape to the next room before giving up. She looked at Brandt, her face shockingly pale, her eyes shadowed and full of pain and defeat. Cade’s Glock lay near her right hand, and Cade’s knife still stuck out from her leg.
Brandt knelt in front of her and picked up the firearm, passing it to the Israeli woman lurking behind him. Then he rested his forearms against his thighs and watched Alicia silently.
“If you’re going to kill me, hurry up and fucking do it,” Alicia said, her voice tired and weak.
“You could help us, you know,” Brandt said, offering her another chance, despite his inner reluctance to do so. “You could come with us. I’m sure we could use your help. You could give us a hand with the cure. You could—”
“No, I can’t,” Alicia interrupted. She glanced down, and Brandt followed her eyes. She had a hand pressed to her stomach, trying desperately to stanch the bleeding, but even Brandt could tell there was no hope for her. Two of his bullets had found their marks, and she was bleeding profusely from both wounds. “Michael … Brandt, please,” she begged. He looked back at her face and saw tears swimming in her eyes. “Please don’t let me be like those things. I know I’ve made mistakes, but don’t … don’t let that happen to me. Please.”
“I won’t,” Brandt said automatically. It wasn’t even something he had to think over. If he let her die and come back, if he let her reanimate and become something even he was scared of, then he wouldn’t be able to call himself a decent human being. “But Alicia, why did you do all this? Why did you go to all these … these extremes? What was the point?”
Alicia began to cry silently, twin trails of tears making their ways down her cheeks. “It wasn’t what I meant to do,” she managed to say. “It wasn’t—it was that fucking virus. It did stuff to my head, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t control myself. It was like I was trapped in myself and seeing myself do all these things, and no matter how loud I screamed, I couldn’t make myself stop. I can’t take this anymore. I never meant for this to happen.”
Brandt took her bloodied hand and squeezed it tightly, wordlessly. Her words were so similar to the ones Ethan had uttered before this mission that it was almost frightening. He hoped Ethan wouldn’t turn out like this.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” Alicia said. Her voice was noticeably weaker, her breathing more labored. “He was so brave. He just wanted to help … oh God, all those people.” She squeezed her eyes closed and grasped Brandt’s hand more firmly. “I’ve killed all those people … the children …” A fresh wave of tears flowed. “Tell Ethan I’m sorry. Tell everybody …” She trailed off, her breath hitching in her throat. “Brandt, now. Please,” she whispered. Then her head fell gently back against the door, and she was still, her hand slack in his, leaving Brandt with more questions than answers, questions he’d now never have answered.
He let go of her limp hand and rose to his feet, gripping his rifle tightly, as if seeking reassurance from its presence. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and drew his Beretta. He exchanged a look with Cade, and almost simultaneously, they lifted their weapons, pointing them at the redheaded woman slumped against the door.
“Are you going to let her turn?” Cade asked quietly. “Are we going to wait until—”
“No,” Brandt interrupted. “I gave her my word. I won’t break it now.” He checked his gun, made sure the safety was off and he had ammunition, and then he adjusted his aim to focus it on Alicia’s head. “Together, on three,” he said. “One.”
Cade glanced at him and gave him a short nod. “Two,” she said, her voice still hushed.
“Three,” Brandt finished. As he said the word, both of them squeezed their triggers.
As disgusting as it seemed, the spray of blood and bone across the white door behind Alicia was morbidly and grotesquely beautiful in its own way. Perhaps it was because of what it represented, what it meant: that all of Alicia’s shit was over with, that the direct threat she’d posed to the rest of them was gone. Brandt slowly lowered his weapon and let it hang loosely at his side, forcing a slow, steadying breath out through his nose. He didn’t realize he was shaking until Cade pressed a hand to his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze and wrapping her fingers around his wrist. “Come on,” she said in a soft, husky whisper, tugging at his arm. “Let’s go. We’ve got other work to do.”
Even as she said this, the muffled, distant sounds of gunshots above them rang out in the air, shattering the uneasy silence in the room. Brandt closed his eyes for a moment, forcing in another breath before nodding. “Yeah, let’s go give Ethan and Remy a hand. Sounds like they might need it.”
Cade gave his wrist another squeeze and turned to leave the room, and as Brandt moved to follow, his flashlight’s beam swept over the rest of the room. He stopped short, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Holy …” was all he managed before trailing off.
Cade looked to see what he was surprised at, and a smile spread across her own face as she beheld the arsenal of weaponry spread across the conference table in the center of the room. “Oh, man. Are we going to have fun with this or what?”