24
BAM!
"Fuck!"
White flashes of pain erupt in her knuckles, and she pulls back immediately.
Alice's fist smashed against the glass, but didn't even crack it. A loud ringing sound fills the room, as if someone had just smashed a gong with a mallet. She clutches her fist, the tops of her knuckles already beginning to redden.
"Oi!" Bayard mumbles, tossing in his sleep. He blindly gropes around his bed and flings a pillow in their general direction. It hits Tarrant, who simply tosses it back. "Keep it down, will you?" Bayard pulls the blanket up higher, rolling himself back over onto his other side.
Mally gets up, unsure of what to say. "I'll get you some ice, love." she says, going out of the dorm.
Alice stares down at her lap. She hates admitting it, but Bumby's right. He was one step ahead. She glances up at Tarrant, who is still looking at her worriedly. She gives him a wan smile. "Sorry about your telly."
Tarrant laughs, but it's mirthless. "I'm more concerned about your hand."
Alice snorts. "S'fine. It was a stupid thing to do."
Tarrant lifts the other two tapes. "Maybe these will be different?"
"We can always try."
By the time Mally returns with a bag of ice they've found that both tapes contained the same message as the first. Tarrant's shoved the tapes underneath his bed and now sits rubbing Alice's back gently while she lies on her stomach, her face in her hands as her fingers knead her temples. She sits up when she hears Mally settle beside her, taking the ice from her with a quick thanks before pressing it to her knuckles, hissing at the sudden chill. What if he's right? What if they've already lost?
Fine, then. If they've already lost, then there's only one thing for it.
"I'm going to kill him."
Tarrant's hand stills, and Mally snaps her head back to look at her in horror.
"You. Did not. Just. Say that." Tarrant says slowly, his eyes, green and gold, seeming to search for some sort of joke in hers. Finding none, he pulls his hand away. "I don't believe this."
Mally bites her lip. "You're joking, right, love?" She begins to wring her hands. "You're not actually thinking of —"
Alice springs up suddenly, letting the ice fall from her hand. "Why not? You heard him. We've lost. What else can we possibly do if he's got the court shoved so far up his arse they've forgotten what the sun looks like?"
"You don't know that for certain!" Tarrant counters, getting to his feet. "They're reasonable people, they have to be!"
But the panic in his eyes tells Alice that he's still trying to convince himself more than her, and it's not working. Alice shakes her head. "There's only one way we can stop him, Tarrant. Only one way we can keep him from hurting any of us ever again! He needs to go, Tarrant!"
"No!" Tarrant's eyes are shifting rapidly around the room, though what he's looking for Alice can't be sure. "We can't — that would — we're not like him, Alice!" he sputters out.
Thump!
The three of them turn to find Bayard sitting up, his legs swung over one side of the bed, his hair messy and hanging in his face. He looks through his fringe at them with sleepy eyes. "Since it's clear I won't be getting any sleep with you lot in here, let's all calm down, alright? You're worse than my kids." He strides over and fixes Tarrant's hat, which has gotten askew, and Tarrant's breathing slows down considerably, but the franticness in his eyes remains. "No one is killing anyone. Alice is just upset, right?" He gives Alice a pointed look; Alice reluctantly nods. "We're all upset. This just means we have to work harder. Have you forgotten that the Underlands still have a very powerful influence?" He says, bringing Tarrant back to the floor to sit with Mally. He motions for Alice to sit back down, and Alice does, replacing the ice pack. "Not to mention, you've got Wilkins on your side as well. His reputation didn't come from nothing, you know. You've got to remember that while Bumby is powerful, you have your own power players. You have to use them. Panicking and talking yourselves into doing something rash is exactly what Bumby would want."
Alice sighs. As much as she hates to admit it, Bayard is right. She'd nearly played right into Bumby's hands. "I just can't stand the idea that there's a chance we might lose." she says quietly.
Tarrant settles into the pillows, pulling his knees to his chest. He drums his fingers against his kneecaps for a moment. "I admit that I have had similar fantasies." he says quietly. "But I do not wish to make them a reality. Please, Alice, you must promise me that it will never come to that."
Alice tries to make the words come out. She really does. I promise I won't kill Bumby. The words are right there. But she can't. After everything he's done, if she were given the chance, without any danger of consequences, she would, in a heartbeat. Nothing would make her happier than to see the bastard dead.
She shakes her head. "I can't promise that, Tarrant. But —" she says quickly, noticing Tarrant starting to panic again. "I will promise you that I will only resort to that if there is absolutely nothing left." Her mind flashes to the experiments. Faces she's never known, lives destroyed because of something out of their control. "I can't forgive what he's done. It's too much. People have died under his care. To promise not to end his life, if given the chance, to me, would be a disgrace to their memories. I'm sorry."
Tarrant nods, swallowing hard. "I can understand that. I wish I didn't, but I do."
Alice's thoughts are racing far beyond the present, thinking ahead. "I've got to go." she says, standing up. "There's one more thing I can try before the trial. If that doesn't work, all we can do is hope Wilkins is a match against whoever is representing Bumby. I can't sit around and wait for the adults to do everything for me."
Bayard nods in agreement. "Fairfarren, Alice."
Alice heads for the door, only to be stopped by Tarrant's hand on her shoulder.
"I hope you know what you're doing."