I'm sorry to say, as I said at the end of the last chapter, that something is wrong. You will have to read the chapter to find out.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the things I own. The things I own are the things not owned by Colfer. Colfer owns everything except the things I own. The things Colfer owns are the things I do not own. :) Try that one, all you people who think you're the next Artemis Fowl.
Valerie laughed. "Are you getting a cold? After all that happened, you're coming down with a cold?"
"Actually—" Zane suddenly stiffened, face twisting in pain. "Actually, no."
"What's the matter?" Valerie leveled out the controls towards Alaska, and turned to look at him. "Did you get shot again? What does that make it? The second time? Or is it the third?"
Zane shook his head in pained silence, and slumped back in his chair, breathing hard, ragged and choking. It wasn't right.
A worried look on her face, Valerie pressed buttons until she got a light, checked behind them to see that they weren't being followed for once, and then slipped out of her seat to lean over him. "Alright then, let's see you. Where'd you get shot?"
"Back," he gasped, and coughed again. This time, Valerie saw it was blood he was coughing up.
"Oh damn," she whispered. Gently she wrapped an arm around him, and pulled him forward against her so she could see his back better.
There were three bloody holes in it. Not nicks. These bullets were buried in him. She remembered him jumping on her as men started shooting, and forcing her between him in the plane. Those bullets— those bloody holes were meant for her. Not him.
Zane jerked slightly as her finger brushed his shoulder, and squeezed her arm so tightly it hurt.
Quickly she lifted her hands and eased him back. "I—" Underneath she felt panic rising, and she fought it helplessly. She couldn't panic. Not now. Things were falling apart so badly, and she couldn't afford to let the last few threads snap. He would be okay. He had to be okay!
"I doubt it." His voice was very quiet.
It took her a moment to realize she'd been mumbling to herself aloud. She looked up, right into his pained eyes, and saw that he knew how bad it was. He knew it was bad. He knew he was going to die.
"You can't!" Valerie stared at him a moment, and suddenly got to her feet, turning out the light, and pushing him away. "You can't die, you fool! Don't you understand?" She jerked the controls angrily, ignoring the pain in her hands. No. Not ignoring it, relishing it.
"I'm sorry." Zane collapsed into another fit of coughing, and after a moment, Valerie set the controls on autopilot was the nearest small town in Alaska, and turned back to him.
"Why?"
Zane winced at the hurt, and the accusation in her voice. A child's voice. She was being destroyed all over again. Why her? "I don't know why." What a horrible answer to give her. I don't know. Neither did she. She didn't know why life was hurting her like this. It wasn't fair.
Valerie stared at him in hurt— like he was hurting her. Like he was doing it on purpose. "But why?"
Zane turned his head away.
The cold that blew in with the wind made him shiver, and Valerie got out of her seat, pushing him gently to the side, and curling her body around him to keep him warmer. She held onto him tightly, but gently, careful not to bump him. "Does it hurt?"
"Only a little."
"It does." She tightened her grip, and set her head against his shoulder. "You lied to me."
He didn't answer her.
"Zane?" She shook his arm insistently. "Don't do that! Stay awake and talk to me! How much— how much longer can you— can you—" A sob tore at her throat, breaking off her words and threatening to spill out through tears.
"For a while." Zane struggled to raise his arm, finally, burying his hand in her tousled black hair. "Your hair's soft."
She said nothing, but it didn't matter anymore. It mattered only that he was talking. It mattered only that he was still alive. That was what mattered. Nothing else.
"Valerie?"
"What?" She tightened her grip again, and kissed his forehead. "What's the matter?"
Zane let his head settle against her chest, and closed his eyes. It was very dark anyway. The moon had disappeared behind the clouds again, and it would probably storm soon. The copter was going to be a hell of a place to be during the storm. "You're a good kid, Valerie. Don't forget to give something back before it's too late. Before you get hurt."
Valerie laughed bitterly. "Before I get hurt?"
"I don't want you to get hurt Valerie. You've been hurt enough already." Zane bushed his face under her chin. "If you take, and take, and never give back, the world's going to take back from you one day, Valerie. Give something back before it's too late."
She was shaking. "You don't understand," she whispered. "It's much too late for that, Zane. It's much too late."
"Why?"
Valerie screamed suddenly, startling him. It was a horrible sound, and he was glad he would never have a nightmare again, or he was sure it would haunt him in his dreams. It was so… tortured. "Because," she sobbed, but her eyes were dry, because there were no tears left to cry, "I've killed so many people, Zane! So many people!"
"It's still not too late." He let go of her hair, and moved his hand to her face, trying to sooth her.
"Yes, it is!" She whimpered like a baby, clinging to him. "I'm killing you, Zane! I killed you, that's why!"
He felt the rigid anger in her, the helplessness, and the fear. She was so alone. All alone.
"You're not killing me, Valerie. Of course you're not!"
"Yes I am," she whispered. "You know I am, Zane. I killed you. I might as well have pulled the trigger. I killed you, Zane."
Zane shook his head slightly. "No. No, you didn't! I'm not even dead yet!"
Valerie pressed her lips against his suddenly. Fiercely. "You don't understand, Zane. I promised your brother— I promised him it wouldn't hurt you. I promised him it would be one bullet. I promised you I'd get you out." A tear started to form in her eye, but it disappeared in a blink. "I'm killing you, Zane! Slowly! It wasn't even one quick bullet! You're dying slowly, Zane! Like a knife, damn it!"
"I do understand. And I don't care."
"But I do." Valerie shut her eyes tightly and rocked back and forth, holding on to him. "I want to die, Zane. I do. Let me die with you. I'm so sick of it all, Zane! I want to die!"
With a sigh, Zane lifted his head, which had started to drop as the weight became heavier to hold. His back was on fire, and breathing was killing him. He felt like he was drowning, but there was no water. Only blood. Lots and lots of blood. "Do you remember what you told me?"
"About what?" She wiped the blood off his mouth when he began to cough again and waited, staring out the broken windshield, and not seeing anything.
Zane looked out too. He couldn't see any stars, and it bothered him. There was nothing for her to reach for. No reason she could see to go on. "You said: sometimes the hero is the one who survives. Not the one who gives up their lives. Sometimes, it's more difficult to live than to die. Trust me. I know. Do you really know, Valerie?"
"I didn't then," she whispered woodenly. "I do now. I want to die, Zane. I want to die!"
"If you live, you'll be the hero." He reached up, playing his fingers through her hair again, wondering when their conversation would have to end because he couldn't continue it anymore.
"Then I want to be a damn bloody coward!" she sobbed out, rage filling her voice. "A coward; you hear me, Zane? A coward!" Valerie buried her face in his hair, and shook, harder and harder, until it hurt her stomach and head, and she wanted to throw up.
Zane coughed again, violently, before falling back against her chest. "Valerie?" he said weakly.
"What?" Valerie kissed his face, and began to rock back and forth. "Please don't die. Please don't die. Oh you fool!"
He said nothing, but took her hand, and held onto it.
"I don't want to cry, Zane." Her eyes were dry, but he could hear the desperate tears in her voice, and knew she was close to breaking. She was holding in a sea of tears, and she didn't know how to let them out. She didn't want to let them out.
"Cry," said Zane simply. "Tears are beautiful."
"Why?" She looked at him pleadingly, asking for a reason for something.
"If you can't cry for death, you don't understand the beauty of life," whispered Zane with a smile. "My sister told me that. If you can't cry for the dead and dying…" He coughed again. "You're a good kid, Valerie. I'm glad you're getting out alive."
Valerie shuddered, but still refused to cry. "I'm not."
"I'm sorry." Zane took a deep breath, and gagged on blood. "Be sure to give back, Valerie. Don't keep taking, or you'll be hurt again."
Valerie looked at the shards of glass lying on the floor. Like her heart. All broken and cut, and it would never be better again.
"Be sure to include my name in the history book," said Zane with a painful smile. "After all, I won't be there to brag about it, and I wasn't exactly the key player in this."
"Yes you were." Valerie hugged him closer. "It wouldn't have happened without you. Any other man I would have killed without thinking. But you're different."
"That's nice." Zane smiled slightly, and slumped against her, fighting to keep his eyes open. "I thought the same thing about you."
There was a sudden crash of thunder, and Valerie looked up as a bolt of lightning ripped open the sky, blinding her and the coast below them for an instant before disappearing.
When she looked down, he was dead.
"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered. "I didn't know… I didn't mean to! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I'm sorry…"
She looked down at the blue diamond, where it lay on the floor, surrounded by the broken glass. Even in the black, it seemed to glow a deep, treacherous blue. Sinister, and cool. It was laughing. It was laughing at what it had done, and at what price it had been taken.
Why, oh why did it have to happen?
What if… if only they hadn't gone after the diamond. If only they had left the country when they still could have. If only she hadn't asked about her family and the man who killed them. If only she would have listened to Zane when he told her to get in the plane. If only she hadn't let him protect her, and had made him get inside.
If only… she hadn't fallen in love with him. If only he hadn't died.
If only she hadn't been a fool.
Yes. That was it. She was a fool. She had killed him, and she knew she had. Zane— he didn't deserve to die. Not Zane.
Four years. Four years wasn't that long ago. She'd have thought she would learn. Perhaps there were some things that you could never learn. Maybe she would always be the fool.
Slowly, she picked up the diamond lying on the floor. It sparkled brilliantly, taunting her with a false light in the darkness.
"Happy birthday," she whispered.
Valerie took one last look at the Flame of the Gods, and hurled it down… down… down. Into the frothing water below. Then she turned the controls, and set her course for America again, steering with one hand. Her other was still clasped tightly with Zane's. A single tear ran down her face, but no one saw, and no one would have guessed, because it was raining.
Valerie was gone. Only Madam was left.
Now you can all see why I was extremely depressed for three hours after writing this. Very, very depressing. Killing characters you love is not good for your mental health. Shakespeare should have died after writing Romeo and Juliet. Anyway, if you're all angry with me, or at least sad, feel free to review. Please note also, that there will be a short Epilogue, to explain who she is in the book a little better, though you can probably figure a good part of that out.
You who do not review: Your evils will condemn you on the day of judgment. :)
