The Fall of Five

36

I know he’s gone. I can still feel the lingering pain from the new scar on my leg. I might never stop feeling that; it could be with me for the rest of my life.

I have to try.

I fall to my knees in the mud next to Eight’s body. The wound doesn’t even look so bad. There’s not as much blood as there was in New Mexico, and Eight lived through that. I should be able to heal this, right? It should work. It has to work. But this one is right on his heart, straight through. I press my hands across the puncture and will my Legacy to kick in. I did it before. I can do it again. I have to.

Nothing happens. I feel cold all over, but it’s not the iciness of my Legacy.

I wish I could lie down next to Eight here in the muck and just shut out everything that’s going on around me. I’m not even crying—it’s like the tears have gone out of me and I just feel hollow.

Just a few yards away, Five is shouting but my mind can’t process what he’s saying. The blade he used to stab Eight has retracted back into its wrist-mounted sheath. His hands are on his head, like he can’t believe what he’s just done. At the base of the tree, Nine has fallen silent, in a state of shock. If only he’d shut up moments ago and not egged Five on. Six is finally struggling back to her feet, looking groggy, trying to make sense of the new scar on her ankle. Everything has fallen apart.

“It was an accident!” Five is babbling. “I didn’t mean to do that! Marina, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!”

“Be quiet,” I hiss.

That’s when I hear the dreaded hum of a Mogadorian ship’s engine. The tall grass around us begins blowing wildly as the sleek silver vessel starts descending from the sky. This was all just a setup orchestrated by Five, so of course he’d have backup waiting in the wings.

I lean over and touch a gentle kiss to Eight’s cheek. I want to say something, to tell him what an amazing person he was, how much better he made this terrifying life we’re forced to lead. “I’ll never forget you,” I whisper.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. I whip around to find Five standing over me.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” he’s saying, pleading with me. “This was a horrible mistake, I know that! But everything I said is the truth.”

He’s insane. Insane to touch me. I can’t believe he’d even have the audacity to do that after what he just did. “Shut up,” I warn him.

“You can’t win, Marina!” he continues. “You’re better off joining with me. You— you—” Five stammers as his breath mists in front of his mouth, the humidity around us cut by a sudden chill. His teeth chatter. “What are you doing?”

Something in me snaps. I’ve never felt anger like this before and it’s almost comforting. The icy feeling of my healing Legacy spreads through me, but it’s different somehow; freezing and bitter and dead. I’m radiating cold. Near Five and me, the murky swamp water crackles as the surface turns instantly to ice. The plants within my radius begin to wither, drooping under the flash freeze.

“Ma-Marina? Stop . . .” Five, hugging himself to keep warm, takes a step away from me. His feet nearly go out from under him as he slips on the ice.

With this new Legacy coursing through me, I act on pure furious instinct. I jerk my hand upwards and the ice takes shape beneath Five, a jagged icicle forming from the ground and thrusting upwards. He’s not quick enough to get out of the way and the icicle stabs straight through his foot, pinning him to that spot. Five screams, but I don’t care.

Five pitches forward and grabs at his impaled foot, just as another icicle juts up from the ground. It strikes Five right in the face. If it was any larger, it would’ve probably killed him. Instead, it merely takes out one of his eyes.

Five falls to the frozen ground awkwardly, his foot still impaled. He clutches at his face, screaming. “Stop it! Please, stop it!”

He’s a monster and he deserves this. But no. I can’t do it. I’m not like him. I won’t kill one of my own people in cold blood, even after what he’s done.

“Marina!” Six shouts. “Come on!”

The Mogadorian ship has landed and its doors are opening. Over by the tree, its branches now sagging under the weight of fresh ice, Six has thrown Nine over her shoulder. She holds her hand out to me.

I take one last look at Five. He holds both his hands over his face, grasping at his ruined eye. He’s crying, the tears turning to frost on his cheeks.

“If I see you again, you traitorous bastard,” I yell, “I’ll take the other fucking eye!”

Five makes a weak gurgling sound. Pathetic.

I’m about to run to Six, but stop. At my feet, encased in a solid chunk of ice, is Eight’s body. As I realize what I’ve done, the air around me begins to warm up. I kneel down and press my hands to the sheet of melting ice that separates me from Eight. I want to take him with us, to keep him away from the Mogadorians and lay him to rest like he deserves, but there’s no time to wait for the ice to melt. Six is shouting at me and the Mogs are closing in.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling numb all over.

I race over to Six and grab her outstretched hand. We turn invisible.