THE DAM

PART 2

The proctors had indeed arrived; they were scattering around the dam to secure every possible way out. Troy and Nick snuck into one of the maintenance rooms, waiting out a team marching past on their patrol.

"I need you to get out of here, find a gun, and take a position that overlooks the dam bridge," Nick said when it was safe to whisper. He locked his eyes on Troy's, hoping he could make the stubborn Otto listen closely. "I need to find them and see what I can do. You can't go because Daniel will shoot you on sight. He's desperate, he was about to torture the confession out of me. I did all I could to convince him the horde was Jake's work, but I don't think he truly bought it. You need to get out of here asap. Do you understand?"

Troy's eyebrows shot up at the revelation that Daniel had threatened Nick with torture about what had happened at the ranch, and that Nick still hadn't sold him out. Clark could have very easily thrown him under the bus, could have disposed of him or let Madison do it as she'd unwittingly intended and be free of the walking complication he appeared to be for this family's conscience.

"You detonate that C4, Nick, and this place will crumble like a sandcastle. You'll die. There has to be another way you can get through to your mother. A radio?"

"There isn't another way," Nick rapped the words out, much like he did to his mother earlier. "I need to do this. You know it, I know it. But I need your help. I need you to back me up with that favorite gun of yours. You need to sneak out, get to our car and grab the gun. Try not to get caught, it's not just my life depending on it."

There was always another way, multiple ways, Troy knew and believed it, they just didn't have the time to find it or discuss it more thoroughly.

"Fine," he countered, aware that Clark's stubborn streak wouldn't allow for much in the way of a debate and that, like with Madison, Nick's mind was made up. "But give me the detonator. If I see things are getting out of hand and I'm sure you're able to get away, I'll make the call. I've more experience in this area."

Nick winced in defiance. "I'm not giving you shit. I asked you to do one thing, and you either do it or don't, okay? I need to go now, there's no more time."

He pushed past Troy to the door, hesitated at it, and turned to give Otto's arm a squeeze.

"Don't get killed."

With that, Nick slipped out of the door and trotted down the corridor.

A few of the proctors passed outside the windows, hauling two men along with them, guns trained at their heads. The prisoners spoke in rapid Spanish, too quickly for Alicia to make much sense of other than a few words here and there such as 'please' and 'mercy'.

She was starting to feel nauseous again. She cleaned her hands with a wet wipe from the medical bag and looked up at John from under her eyelashes. "What are you doing to them?"

He followed his men's progress with his gaze until they were out of sight. "You know what I'm going to do."

She did. It wasn't hard to guess. She had already heard several shots go off in the distance. And still, a part of her hoped she had been wrong. "The deal you made with Strand–"

"–is null and void."

"Yes, you said so. But… what was the deal exactly?"

She had caught snippets of their conversation when they arrived at the dam, but she was nowhere certain her assumptions were right. What had Strand promised to do in return for her mother's safety?

John scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked tired, which, considering his day, was not all that surprising.

"Strand was supposed to facilitate our takeover of the dam. In return, he'd be made steward of this place. He'd take care of things while I was elsewhere. That and safety for your mother and her kids. But as you saw when we came in, the corpses in the water, Strand didn't uphold his end of the bargain."

Alicia couldn't say she was surprised. Victor Strand, despite having had his good moments, craved power and wealth. It made sense he would bargain for such a position.

"Facilitate the takeover," she repeated, frowning. "What does that mean?"

John looked at her, lips twitching in a miniscule crooked smile. "Make sure we were met with no resistance from the workers. And if that was to become a problem, well… he was supposed to kill 'em, darlin'."

Nick found his mother in one of the tunnels; she was at the exit.

"You can't go there, they're everywhere," he said. Her face brightened with hope as she saw him.

"Nick—"

"Troy left, and I won't be discussing any of it with you right now, okay? Let's focus on getting out in one piece."

She nodded.

"There you are," Victor called from a bridge over them. "Hurry, follow me, there's no time."

They did. He pushed them into a tiny maintenance room. Then Madison turned on him, pressing him into a wall with a gun to his chest.

"Daniel took you in, they gave you sanctuary."

"Temporary sanctuary at best," Victor played back. "Proctor John was coming. I made a deal to save you."

"You made a deal to save your own ass," Nick put in.

"And I told you to get Madison outta here," Victor turned on Nick, his eyes bulging. "I told you to leave! But you had to be stubborn. Can you please remove the gun?" When she didn't immediately oblige, he swallowed, and added: "Alicia's here."

Nick gaped at him, feeling his heart thumping in his throat. Madison's face paled.

"She's here with Proctor John. He brought her here."

"It doesn't make any sense," Madison said.

"He likes his toys," Victor reasoned, making Nick's stomach churn. Nick closed his eyes momentarily to hold off sickness. "Maybe he likes her enough to let you go. But I wouldn't bet on it."

Madison let him go, and he tossed two uniforms at them.

"Put these on."

"Why?" Nick asked.

"It's how I move you through the dam. I'll walk you out right under their noses." Victor looked pleadingly, and when they didn't move, he asked: "Can you just do it?"

He was sweating bad now, Nick never saw him that scared before. It made Nick feel worse, for all of them. Mostly, for Alicia. He couldn't bring himself to think of what Strand insinuated. It was too out of the world his sister was built for. She didn't deserve such dirt, such pain and humiliation. No one did, but Alicia…

Nick sucked in a breath, pushing the thought away, and started to dress.

"Your time has come, hasn't it?" Madison noted, eyeballing Strand with bitter irony.

"Please, put on the damn uniforms," he begged.

"What did you do?" she asked, not moving, staring him down like he was the lowest scum she'd ever seen. Same look she used on Troy down in the tunnels. "Who was it?"

Nick watched, feeling the bad news about Alicia wasn't the last one yet.

Victor sighed and confessed: "Daniel."

"Jesus Christ!" she hissed.

"I did it for you!" he blurted, drawing a sickening parallel in Nick's brain.

"Don't say that!"

"He was alive when I left him."

"You shot Daniel?" Nick asked, having found his voice.

"I didn't kill him. It was the worst thing that's ever happened to me." Strand looked him in the eye in a way that was impossible to doubt his sincerity, but Nick thought back to when he had to shoot the man he claimed to love, and wondered. He didn't want to dwell and just proceeded to put the uniform on.

"And Lola?" Madison asked.

"I let her go. I couldn't do it."

"Good," Nick commented, putting a worker cap on. "There's still hope for you."

Nick shot a meaningful look at his mother she didn't like to hold; she started to dress herself. Victor insisted on taking the detonator, and she backed him up. Nick wasn't going to fight them over it. A death wish wasn't on his list today.

What happened on the bridge was a small disaster. It was like in that saying: what could go wrong went wrong. Lola showed up shooting the proctors, and took a bunch with her before they put her down. After that show, no one let the Clarks and Strand pass. They were ushered into the glass office, and there, next to a tall man in his late forties, stood Nick's sister.

The siblings barely exchanged glances, but Nick was glad to see her in one piece and without any visible injuries. As for the concealed ones, he didn't want to think about it. Not yet.

Alicia's mouth went dry the moment the door opened and a throng of familiar faces pushed through and into the room. There they all were – Mom, Strand, and Nick.

Shit. Nick's here?

She had hoped he'd decided to take a detour with Troy after they left her a few days ago. Not because Troy was good company, but because she wanted her brother to be anywhere but here.

Alicia went out on her own to avoid situations like this, and yet here they were once again. As though fate herself willed it. Ironic.

The atmosphere became tense, increasingly so. Proctor John eyed Strand wearily.

"I am mystified," he said, calm as ever.

Strand immediately jumped to his own defense.

"I can explain."

"I'm sure you can but I don't wanna hear it," John countered.

"I was gonna kill them myself."

John stepped out of the way and his right-hand man rushed forth to slam the butt of his gun against Strand's face. Strand went down on the floor, groaning.

Alicia inhaled sharply, looking between the two men uncertainly. "John…"

"Shut up, darlin'," he responded without pause. She obeyed, swallowing her protests as John addressed Strand again. "I'm told the woman we dispatched was the "Water Queen," whom you were supposed to kill, and here she springs up like goddamn Whack-a-Mole. One wonders, is soldado alive and waiting to assassinate me?"

Strand peered up at him from the floor. "He's dead, I swear."

The other Proctor delivered a kick to Strand's abdomen, and down he went once more.

"He's telling the truth." It was Madison who spoke this time, making Alicia clench her teeth behind her closed lips.

Stay quiet, Mom. Please, stay quiet.

"He confessed to me," Madison continued. "And I believe him."

And why would that matter, Alicia wondered to herself, her mind spinning with fear for what was going to happen. She dared a quick look at Nick. He didn't look concerned in the least but that didn't mean he wasn't. He was just better at hiding it.

Nick could feel himself rolling his eyes inwardly as Madison just had to put her five cents in. He wondered whether she cared about Victor or she merely thought she could still use him for their advantage. Nick hated himself for that thought, but it was there, solid and proud and unwilling to leave.

Proctor John studied her with an ironic smirk. "You're Madison."

"I am," she nodded. "I'm Madison Clark."

He smiled endearingly and turned to Alicia. "Go to your mother, dear. Let's see a joyful family reunion. Please." Alicia obeyed. They hugged like two strangers. John went on to Nick. "And what role do you play in this family drama?"

"He's my son," Madison piped up. Nick kept silent, feeling it unnecessary to nod and smile.

"This one was with another white boy, acting bizarre, asking questions," one of the proctors said. Nick recalled seeing him at El Bazar. That wasn't good, but no worse than the rest of this bloody theater piece.

"Is your friend here, Nick?" John asked.

"No, he's dead, my mom killed him," Nick responded, not even skipping a beat. It would have been the truth had he not fired that gun. Her eyes narrowed slightly with either hurt or reprimand or both, but she didn't deny it. She jerked her chin high as John looked at her with new eyes.

"Wow," he said. "Really? You killed your son's friend?"

"Was more a threat than friend," she said, deadpan.

John chuckled. "What a perverse family you have, Alicia from Los Angeles. You've been a good nurse to me. But you know what I have to do now."

"Wait, listen to me—" Madison started.

John's smile evaporated. "Shut up, mother. I have to kill her because I'm going to kill her brother. I'll never be able to trust her again after that." He looked at Alicia. "I'll kill you first so you don't have to witness what follows. But you, mother-killer," he continued, his eyes flicking to Madison, "you bear witness."

Nick sighed quietly. It all felt like some kind of a fucked up déjà vu loop. Like he had seen it all before but in another form, in another lifetime. He searched himself for fear or despair and couldn't find anything to label like that. Maybe he had exhausted his emotions for today. He merely felt tired. The only bitter feeling in his heart was for Alicia. She was paying too high a price for trying so hard to be better than her mother and brother could ever hope to be.

Whenever Alicia would watch scary movies with her friends in the past, she always assumed she'd be one of those people who cried and begged for mercy if faced with the threat of an execution. Turned out, that was not the case.

She was not void of fear when The Proctor's final judgement fell. She even felt a little betrayed, which, in hindsight, was a silly thing. He was right; she had been a good nurse to him. Maybe if she hadn't, maybe if she had ensured the operation failed and doomed this man to a life in a wheelchair, things would have ended differently for her mom and Nick. Alicia'd be dead. They might not be.

Coulda, shoulda, woulda, as Nick liked to say. There was no use dwelling on such thoughts now. It was already too late to go back.

The group of bikers led them outside and onto a giant bridge. Madison clutched Alicia's hand in hers so tightly it hurt, her other arm wrapped in Nick's as they solemnly made their way to their final destination.

Alicia was afraid, but not to the extent she would have expected. Mostly she was just tired. She remembered telling Ofelia once something along the lines of: You don't get tired of surviving. You just push on.

But she thought she understood now how Ofelia had felt. It was a tiring thing, this new existence of theirs, and though most days her instincts were still to ensure her survival, there were moments… Just moments where she wished she could rest.

"Say your goodbyes, if you have them," Proctor John called out from behind them.

The three of them came to a halt, and after a few seconds hesitation, embraced one another. Wedged between her Mom and brother, Alicia pressed her face to Nick's shoulder, trying to inhale his familiar scent one last time. But he didn't smell like himself. The jacket he was wearing was not his own.

There wasn't time to say anything before a giant bearded man grabbed her by the arm and hauled away. Someone did the same with Madison, guiding them further down the bridge.

Troy muttered a prayer as soon as Nick left, resolutely attempting to summon the help of a higher power he hadn't visited in years and regarded as a last ditch effort to keep Nick safe.

If there was an afterlife beyond walking the earth as a corpse, then Jeremiah was rolling in his grave.

He checked the amount of bullets left in Nick's gun and headed out, keeping low and against the side of the building, watching out for the Mexican, Madison and anyone not on their assumed team.

Their team.

Troy'd been downgraded in the tunnels.

Gunshots boomed left and right as he started his approach for the gates, coming from every direction, leaving little doubt that proctor and his men had decided to do a clean sweep of the place. His only hope was that Nick wasn't part of the filth, and that he'd grabbed his mother and run.

A few of the bikers guarded the gate. They were taking no prisoners, shooting anyone not wearing their leathers, putting down any dead and anyone who'd missed the memo and was senseless enough to beg for water.

Troy watched and waited, biding his time.

When they didn't move, weren't summoned away to help take care of another part of the dam, and no one else came to join them, shots still ringing out, he flattened himself to the ground and freed up Nick's gun from his hip. He took aim, falling into sync with the mayhem, confident that whatever was going on would disguise his objective, and put the first one down. A clean hit that penetrated the shoulder and sent the man sprawling onto his back, his companion blindly retaliating in Troy's direction.

Troy fell back, keeping low, counting out the biker's bullets trying to assess what weapons they were using and then—thinking he had it—fired again, hitting the second in the stomach. The man cried out in pain and drove Troy to his feet. As the last standing Otto ran, he shot at the first wounded man's wrist as he attempted to raise his gun, nailing the second as he clawed at his stomach, and then finished off the first.

Troy crouched beside them, casting a look in the direction of the main area of the dam, half-expecting to see someone coming to their aid. No one did.

He confiscated their guns, their bullets and their radio, and took off toward the gate at a sprint, no longer looking back, heading for the vehicle they'd hidden in the hills.

He hadn't been scavenging very long when a command came through the radio, an instruction to keep a close eye on things while they moved to the bridge.

Troy tossed the guns into the backseat of the Jeep, found his rifle beneath the bags and other stuff to keep wandering eyes from getting itchy, and headed for the hills to get a better vantage point.

The proctors convoyed their prisoners back onto the bridge. Lola was still there, dead, propped against the side like she was snoozing. Victor shuffled behind them, and they strolled like the fucking perfect family, Madison between her kids, her arms interlaced with theirs.

Nick stole a few glances at Alicia, gauging if she was scared. She didn't look petrified, but he knew she was. It was natural. Even if he had a moment with her alone, he wouldn't find any words to express how sorry he was to have her in this shit where only Madison and he deserved to be along with Victor, who they would flank on their way to hell.

"Say your goodbyes, if you have any," John offered.

Madison collected her children in a group hug. Nick studied Victor over her shoulder. Strand looked defeated and horrified. Nick wondered briefly about Troy's whereabouts, but it wasn't the most important thing at the moment. His dark eyes lingered on Victor. He still carried something Nick needed back. Two proctors yanked Alicia and Madison from him, Nick walked around them for Victor, his arms spreading.

"Safe travels," he offered.

"Thank you," Strand said, accepting the embrace.

"Enough," John said.

Nick delivered a loud kiss to Strand's bearded cheek and detached from him, walking back to his family, hands in pockets. He stopped at the fence, overlooking the vast lake, then looked back at Strand and the proctors behind him. Strand's face shifted into more confidence.

"There's an endgame here, Proctor, one for which you didn't plan."

"You really do talk too much," John said, seemingly bored.

"Lola and Daniel didn't have enough guns to defend the dam, so they wired it with explosives."

"Bullshit," one of the proctors said.

"Top to bottom," Strand continued, "C4 to build the dam, C4 to take it down." He smiled. Nick glimpsed the shadow of what he had met in a cage for the first time.

"Take his tongue already," John commanded with the same bored tone.

"No more lies, Proctor," Strand boasted, backing away from the man and searching his coat's pockets. His smile was slipping off. Nick was leaning against the cement border, finding himself subtly amused. The feeling left quickly, though, leaving just the same weariness behind.

"You got a hole in your pocket?" the proctor following him asked, seeing panic on Strand's face as he still patted at his coat. They grabbed Victor, pulling his arms behind him. His face was that of a small cornered animal that watches the predator's teeth closing in.

"Strand," Nick called, raising the detonator in his hand. Strand looked at the boy like it was a ghost of his Thomas. "Says it's armed."

John's face pinched in annoyance. One of his men put a gun to Madison's head. Nick finally felt the ice of fear flooding his spinal cord from bottom to top. He could see in his mind's eye how her head would jerk and blood would flow. He wasn't ready to let himself feel it, see it. He wasn't.

"Nick," Strand said, his eyes pleading. "Don't touch the other button."

Nick looked at the device and flipped the second red switch up, revealing the second button. He looked at Strand, smiling subtly. "What, the one that says Detonate?"

Even as the men dragged them away, Madison refused to let go of Alicia's hand, clutching as if her daughter was a very expensive handbag she was worried might be snatched away. Her palm was sweaty. No doubt Alicia's was the same. Alicia squeezed her fingers, silently trying to reassure her mom it was okay. That she, Alicia, was okay.

Her attention snapped back to the other side where Strand and Proctor John were still standing at the mention of explosives.

Was that true? Or was Strand bluffing? He was good at that. A skilled liar. But what would be the point if he had no proof? Proof he seemed to lack, judging by the lost look on his face as he patted himself down.

Nick, who was hovering near the railing between our two groups, called out to Strand, and all eyes turned to him. He held up a device for all to see. A detonator.

A gun was cocked and pushed to the back of their mother's head. Alicia forced herself not to look despite her racing heart and the urge to pull her away from the lethal weapon, her gaze solely on Nick.

That low murmur of fear felt before, grew and expanded inside her until her legs began to tremble subtly. And yet, she became aware of another niggling sensation. Satisfaction. A Fuck you to these men who were about to end their lives in cold blood. Nick had the power to take them down, as well.

Nick raised the detonator again, his thumb under the second silver switch, ready to push it up. The Proctor John studied him.

"What's your play, Nick?"

Nick looked around and pointed at his men in front of me surrounding Victor. One of them had his gun trained on Nick.

"Tell him to put his gun down," he said.

"Put your gun down."

The guy did, glaring as Nick walked past him to another fence to look at what path the river would take after it was free. Strand watched him, lost and confused. It would have been very funny if it wasn't getting to such a sad note in the end. Nick returned to another side he originally occupied, and surveyed the water below and its banks.

"My mom and sister are gonna take the zodiac across the lake."

"Nick, don't do this," Madison asked.

"Just go as far up the river as you can," he told her.

"We'll pursue them," John said.

"They'll have a head start."

Alicia frowned, unable to keep from protesting once her brother's intentions became clear. He was going to sacrifice himself for the two of them.

"Nick, just come with us," she asked, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. "Please."

"He can't do that, nurse," Proctor John declared. "The detonator has a range. If you go with them, you lose your leverage, right?"

There hadn't been enough time to get to too higher ground but Troy's vantage point of the bridge as he settled in the dirt on a rock was clear enough to make a scene, obstructing only a few of the twenty or so men gathered together behind the fence.

He peered through the scope on the top of his rifle, and his heart turned cold. They had the Clarks.

ALL of them.

Fuck! Why hadn't Nick grabbed her and fled? And where the hell had Alicia come from?

Troy didn't have to be there, either, to hear his threats or know what he'd intended.

Otto jumped from his position and charged back to the Jeep, setting the rifle down in the passenger seat, quickly starting the engine, desperate to find higher ground closer, determined to provide any and all assistance that he could to keep Nick from pressing that button.

Nick didn't bring himself to look at Alicia, to see the pleading in her face. He saw it so many times and never listened, never kept the promises he showered her with. He couldn't look at her now and say no. He had a deeply buried fear that it would break him, break all this fragile ice he was dancing upon to maybe save them. He no longer remembered or cared whether Troy was in position. It was so far away, in another solar system altogether.

"I'm not negotiating, John," he said. "This is my suicide note."

"It certainly seems to be," John agreed, irked. Wishing looks could kill – the little bastard would drop dead then and stop being such a nuisance.

Nick forced himself to look back at his family. Madison was shaking her head, grieving already. Alicia… The utter loss on her face snapped something inside of him. He strolled toward them, feeling all eyes on him scorching, but only caring about them. He hated hurting them. He had been doing it all his life. And now that it was necessary, it somehow hurt the most.

"Go," he said, his eyes on Madison, the other parallel, no less bitter, surfacing in his head. "Cause you have no choice. If you don't go, we all die. So just go." He strolled closer, locking his eyes with his mother's to make her listen at least this once. "Mom, please. Go." He waved a hand along the bridge, inviting them to do as he asked.

They did. Madison had Alicia's hand in hers, pulling her forward and past Nick. They barely crossed gazes, and then they were walking away into the sunset, like in some shitty-ass poetry Nick always loathed.

He looked at Strand. "You, too, go, get in the boat."

Strand uttered his name, ready to object, although Nick read in his eyes loud and clear that he wanted to. He wanted to live.

"You wanted mercy – here it is," he said simply. "Just take care of them, all right?"

Strand understood. He nodded, grateful, assuring and sad. Nick truly saw it there – sadness for him. It was a nice touch. He had Nick's gratitude for it, too, only Nick couldn't voice it as he was walking after them already.

"It's all right," John said. "There'll be time to find them later."

"You don't survive this," Nick reacted, letting a spark of anger to flare. It made him feel less tired. It gave him hope to see it all through.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. Many have slipped between the cup and the lip. I'm interested to see how it all plays out. Not well for you either way, I'm afraid."

"I'm not afraid of dying," Nick informed him, hating the tears collecting in the base of his throat in a lump. He already missed them. Missed his mom the way he always wanted her to be. His dear sister that he loved so damn much he never had enough words or actions to express it and so he always had been failing in the worst of ways. And the very worst thing this time was that he wouldn't get another chance. Whether Troy was or wasn't out there to cover for him, Nick wasn't sure he could play god and make this pit he had chased himself into any shallower. He didn't feel he could get out.

John didn't look impressed. "The bravado of a junky Christ. That detonator real?"

Nick was holding it up, tempted to press it right away. But they weren't gone yet. Not. Yet. Every passing second made him ache.

Everything went quiet all of a sudden. All sounds became muffled, and Alicia's vision was blurred and askew. She felt her mother tug her away, and her legs moved of their own accord, but for most of their trek across the bridge, Alicia didn't comprehend what had just happened.

It felt like one of her nightmares. Another nightmare her big brother had to save her from. It wasn't right. It was anything but right.

"Hurry." Strand's voice cut through the hazy fog of her mind. He and Madison ushered her in front of them, and the trio rushed down the concrete stairs as quickly as their legs could carry them.

Once on the ground level, they headed outside and ran for the river, back to where the Proctors and Alicia had abandoned the boats earlier. Alicia leapt into one of them and started working on the motor while Strand made quick work of the ropes tying them to land.

"Hurry, Alicia!" Madison urged as she took her position in the front of the boat.

"I'm trying!" Alicia called back, revving the engine and putting it in reverse. It eventually decided to do her bidding, and they slowly edged away from shore. A few seconds later, Alicia had them cruising away from the bridge at top speed.

They didn't get far before the motor went dead. Alicia sighed in frustration, trying to start it back up again, squeezing the fuel pump a few times to ensure they hadn't run out of gasoline. While she worked, Madison and Strand looked on with wide, concerned eyes, between her and the engine and the bridge looming over them from behind.

"This dam," John lectured, "could be the center of a new civilization. Right here, a modern Euphrates. But it needs managing, parceling. We can't just give it away, Nick. You're smart. You understand. And you could help."

"It's bullshit," Nick said. "It's just one more thing you cruel few want to control."

"You blow the dam, the river flows," he reasoned. "You think folks want to end the fight for what they bottle? Come on! Civilizations are born in violence."

Nick had to smile.

"What's so amusing?" John asked.

"I heard someone else say that."

"It's the great truth," John said, bored once again.

"I killed the last man who spoke that truth."

"So you do understand this world," John said. "Like mother, like son. Harness the fury or get stampeded.

"I'm looking for a third way."

"There ISN'T ONE!" John yelled. "War was waiting to be realized by us. And here we are."

The boat was almost below Nick now, and he heard their failing attempts to start it again. John knew it, too.

"A quandary: you blow the dam too soon, your family doesn't make it. Didn't consider that quite, did you? End of the road, Nick." He held a hand out to the stubborn bastard. "Hand me that device."

His men were closing in on Nick, pressing him to the border as he was still hesitating to push the button. Nick needed a divine intervention. Needed badly, as bad as he had never needed it before in his entire life.

"Get the detonator," John commanded. One of his men – the one who called Nick out on being in Troy's company – neared, ready to kill him for it. Nick pressed into the fence, holding it high and still not knowing whether he'd push in the last second before they shot him down or not.

The man's head exploded in a spray of blood and brain; he fell down. His heart thundering, Nick hoped it was Troy. Who else could it be?

Troy was late in setting things up the second time as the sandy roads had been uncharted, catching sight of Alicia, Madison and Strand through his scope as they scrambled into a rubber duck, focus that lingered a couple of seconds and then went in search of Nick.

He was still up there and the group of men was beginning to close in like hyenas.

Troy inhaled and prepared to put the stranger down when suddenly his head exploded.

What the hell?

Another shot rang out, and another of the proctors went down. They scrambled, shouting commands while still trying to corner Nick.

Before taking his own shot, satisfied that whomever was shooting was on Nick's side, Troy searched the hillside and found who it was. The Indians. Crazy Dog and Walker. They hadn't seen him, and given all that was going on, Troy doubted they were expecting to. As he stared at them through the single binocular, a rush of contempt took a hold of him. The aftermath of Madison nearly being killed in the tunnels, Nick's suicide mission and the knowledge that if Troy lost him – his only friend – then he officially had nothing left in this world. Nothing he could go back to, nothing that he could go forward with and that had been his safe space.

Crazy Dog smiled at Walker as if the two were sharing a joke, and took another shot.

And just like that, the air passed.

Troy turned back, focused, and pulled the trigger, joining in their macabre festivities.

John circled the body on the floor like a tiger, grinning at Nick. "New wrinkle. Don' matter. Not a game changer."

Nick walked around the corpse, keeping John across from him. An eternal dance of predator and prey.

"As for you, young Nick, I think you're bluffing. Can see it in your eyes. You're not a killer, and your family is not far away yet."

"Let's find out, shall we?" Nick suggested, holding the detonator up again.

John smiled, then let it die. "Fine. I'm bored. Kill him."

One of his men trained his gun on Clark. Nick put his finger on the switch to push it, but then another shot fired, and it wasn't Nick who went down in a spray of brain matter. Some of the proctors guessed the direction and were shooting through the fence at the hills. The sniper returned fire, and more men died.

John was yelling something, his men were yelling, more shots thundered around Nick. He stood at the fence overlooking the lake, and no sounds around him mattered. They all went quiet, as though someone changed the volume. He watched his family and Strand in the boat trying to get away. He watched them, a small smile tugging at his mouth. He wished he was there with them, and at the same time, he was glad to be up here and let them have a chance. A solid chance at life.

Nick felt the button with his thumb and pushed it. He didn't quite hear the explosion, but the water spray showered his face. The series of chain explosions followed, the cement floor beneath him trembled. Reverberating in his very bones. He held on to the fence, tightening his fingers in its metal loops.

John stared at him, furious and scared. He was being pulled away by one of his few men that still lived. He went with him when the bridge cracked in the middle, the gap snaking around the bodies along the cement floor.

Nick barely marveled at all the destruction happening around him like some nature's wrath display. His eyes locked on the little boat throttling in the dirty water as if on the same spot. The dam had cracked open and water was raging, racing through the gap away from its captivity, pulling the boat with it.

His heart was sinking lower into his solar plexus, aching and trembling in terror.

He didn't save them, after all. The flow was too strong. They hadn't gotten far enough.

Clutching at the fence, Nick couldn't move. His feet grew into the cement bridge, he didn't care about anything left in the world, his world had shrunk to the size of their boat struggling in the raging stream.

Strand got to his feet and nudged Alicia aside, taking over in her efforts to restart the engine. Like her, he struggled. She checked the fuel line again, made sure it was all right, gave the pump a few more squeezes, and finally made another attempt.

It worked.

"Come on, let's go!" Madison and Strand all but chorused. She obeyed and they were off.

They moved too slowly for her liking, and they all continued to glance back at the bridge. She tried to find Nick among the shapes and silhouettes up there but failed.

The sound of gunshots echoed through the valley, turning her insides cold. Please, don't be Nick. Please, don't be Nick.

Madison's gaze was fixed over Alicia's head as she twisted the tiller to urge them faster through the water.

"No, Nick," she murmured. Alicia didn't look back this time.

A thundering roar from behind them and the powerful quake that followed made her slip from her perch on the side of the boat, and she lost control of the engine. Water and rocks hurtled towards them, and they all dove for cover, their arms braced over their heads. For a few eerie moments, everything fell silent.

And then, the dam broke. Large cracks zigzagged up the walls, tearing the concrete apart, the lower foundation already ripped away and greedily sucking at the water the dam had to provide. Alicia launched herself at the tiller, revving it hard to get them into motion again, but it was useless. The currents were too strong, and no matter how hard she tried, the boat stood still. And then… they were being pulled down.

She didn't stop fighting, didn't cease her efforts even as her mother grabbed her from behind, either to pull her away or hold her steady, Alicia couldn't tell. Her hands tugged on her daughter's jacket, caught in her hair, but Alicia barely noticed the pain. Her heart was in her throat, her scream drowned out by the roar of the water as they finally fell over the edge.

Nick could no longer breathe, his legs a trembling jello, as he watched the boat being dragged closer and closer to the bridge. He couldn't see their faces, but he knew they were scared. They could die in the torrents, all because of him. He killed all of them by trying to save.

And it was so much more painful to have almost grabbed the lucky chance before you lost it completely. The worst torment.

He watched until they disappeared under him, down there in the raving lake. Someone grabbed his shoulder, yanking him from the stupor. He turned and didn't believe his eyes. Daniel, tired and with a gaping wound on his cheek, stared back at him. He looked so exhausted he could collapse. But the bridge beneath them was going first.

He pulled Nick, and they ran. Neither could go fast, but they almost got to the edge of it when the structure succumbed to the water that ran wild.

The world tumbled, the sky twirled around Nick, mixing with crumbling cement and murky waters beneath. He was falling. He hit something on his way, that knocked the air out of him, and when he landed in the river, he gasped unwittingly, and water rushed in. He struggled against the waves, trying to swim up, but there was no way to tell where the surface was. It seemed like one big endless deep with no light coming through it.

And there was a light no more.

Alicia's stomach lurched as her body lifted from the boat, like it would when she rode rollercoasters at the amusement parks as a child. Only now, there was no safe 'landing'. There was only chaos.

Enveloped in water, something hard collided against the side of her head. In her mind's eye, she pictured a rock but it may have been the boat. She couldn't tell. The deafening sound of the waterfall fell away but the heavy silence was no better. She twisted and turned, fighting the currents with a violent panic that only seemed to pull her further down. Her lungs burned with the need for oxygen and her already obscured vision began to narrow, red creeping in from the edges.

Soon, her efforts faded altogether. Soon, darkness took her.