"No, no!" Jack cried, stumbling forward as tears blinded her eyes. Blood gurgled from the hole in Donovan's chest, dark and flowing. Another gunshot sounded, but it sounded miles away as Jack fell on her knees before Titus. The blood was flowing too fast, too much. Jack tore her apron from her chest and balled it up on his chest, pressing down with both hands. The blood had to stop, or he would...no. She couldn't think about it. This was her fault.

"Jack," Titus sputtered, but she couldn't look at him. She couldn't look into his eyes or accept his fate. "Look at me."

When Jack finally raised her eyes from the apron, quickly growing dark with blood, to his eyes, her heart dropped. His eyes were glassy and blood dripped from his mouth.

"This isn't your fault," he said. "Tell...tell Hannah."

"No, you're fine," Jack said, returning pressure to the wound. "You're going to be fine. We'll get you help. I'll--I'll go get the doctor."

Jack rose to her feet, her limbs both leaden and limp at the same time. "Jack, wait!" He grabbed her arm, his grip surprisingly strong. "Tell Hannah I love her. Tell her I wanted a life with her. Tell her I'm sorry."

"You can tell her yourself," Jack said, sagging beside him again. She brushed at her cheeks and found wet tears.

"Reach into the pocket of my shirt," he whispered. The words made him cough and Jack watched as the cough brought blood from his mouth. He was running out of time, but Jack couldn't leave him. Not if he was dying.

She reached into the front pocket of his plaid shirt, her hands shaking as she unfastened the button and reached inside. Her fingers touched on something cold and metal, and she pulled it out.

A ring.

"You were..." Jack stuttered between sobs.

He was going to propose to Hannah.

Squeezing the diamond ring in her palm, Jack stumbled to her feet. "I'm getting the doctor. He'll save you."

Julius appeared beside her and knelt at Titus's side. "Go, Jack!" he hollered. "Donovan and I are fine. Take the automobile and go get the doctor."
Jack squeezed the ring so tightly that it seemed seared into her palm and she stood frozen. Titus was dying, and it was her fault. It's not too late.

Jack backed away from Titus's body, the life fading from his paling features. She stumbled towards the automobile, guided by her memory rather than her blurried sight. She needed to get control of herself, but it was too late. The worst had happened. A man was dead.

She found the automobile and with shaking hands, she started it and got behind the wheel. She slipped the engagement ring into a pocket on her dress and gripped the wheel with both hands, squeezing her eyes shut. Titus needs you. She needed to get the doctor, and there was no time to waste. Jack blinked away the tears, her hands so tight on the wheel that her knuckles had turned white.

The car careened forward and Jack pressed the gas pedal to the floor. She had to get to Irvington. The car leapt over the ground, the engine roaring in her ears. Slowly, Jack's faculties returned and she tried to think through the situation. Donovan was alive, though in what condition, Jack hadn't even thought to check. She and Julius were unharmed, and Titus had taken a bullet to the chest. Could a man even recover from such a wound? Was there any hope?

Jack's hands started to shake and the car nearly careened into the sign that said "Welcome to Irvington." She forced her foot to ease off the gas pedal as she entered the town, a man and his donkey veering off the road at her arrival and cursing her with a raised fist. The doctor's practice appeared before her eyes and she jerked the automobile to a stop in the middle of the street, leaping off and falling to her knees. The cobblestone scraped them raw, but she rose again anyways. The pain was a sharp relief from the hazy terror that spread like a drug through her veins.

Jack bounded towards the practice, opening the door and racing inside. "Corrie!" she cried. "Dr. Benjamin!" The gazes of scores of injured soldiers rested on Jack as she entered, and their chatter hushed. "Where is he?" Jack yelled.

"Jack?" Corrie appeared from around the corner, a basket of bandages in her arms. "What's wrong?"

"Where is he? Where's the doctor? I need him, right now!" Jack cried, her body shaking.

"Alex, come here, now!" Corrie yelled down the hallway, weaving between the injured men to approach her aunt. She took Jack by the shoulders and gazed at her levelly. "What happened, Jack?"

"The Slates--they took Donovan. They kidnapped him." Jack shook her head to clear the fog in her mind--that wasn't what was important. "Titus," Jack sputtered. "They shot Titus."

Corrie's eyes widened and her hands fell from Jack's shoulders. "Alex!" she yelled, louder this time. "Alex, now!"

She began to gather bandages and Jack helped her, grabbing anything that looked like it would be of help. Dr. Benjamin appeared and when he heard the news, he disappeared in the back to fetch his supplies. Jack stood helplessly in the front doorway, the adrenaline leached from her system.

"Jack?" a voice whispered, so faint Jack scarcely heard it. Jack searched her surroundings and found Hannah standing at the top of the staircase. The girl stood totally still, her eyes wide and the color drained from her face.

Jack's heart ached so furiously in her chest that she wished she could carve it out. "Hannah," she murmured, taking a few tentative steps towards the staircase. "Hannah, I'm sorry, I-"

"No," the girl cried, running down the stairs. "Don't be sorry. We have to save him."

It's too late, Jack wanted to tell her, but she couldn't admit that truth to herself yet. "I have his car," Jack told her instead. "I'll take you and Dr. B to him. We need to go."
Hannah nodded and brushed past Jack, faltering and nearly falling. Jack caught the girl around the shoulder and Hannah fell into Jack's arms.

"Come on," Jack said, bearing the girl's weight and half-carrying her to the car. "WE have to go, Hannah."

Hannah recovered and climbed into the automobile. Dr. Benjamin joined them in a few moments, and the blood drained from his face when he saw his sister in the passenger seat. "Hannah, you can't go. What if--"

"I have to!" Hannah cried, crossing her arms over his chest. "Don't fight me on this, Alex. I need to be there. I have to...we have to save him."

Dr. Benjamin touched his sister's arm. "We'll try."
Jack didn't know what to say; she didn't know how to warn them of what they would find outside the Hunt's house. She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn't. They would find out soon enough. She started the engine and soon they reached the Hunt's house. Jack stopped the car and got out, but she couldn't lift her eyes to where Julius crouched over Titus. She couldn't face the truth or the aching guilt that came with it.

"Titus!" Hannah cried, running forward and kneeling in the dirt beside him.

Dr. Benjamin followed closely behind, carrying a box of his supplies. Jack went after them slowly, the guilt spreading through her body and erupting in tremors. Titus would still be alive if it hadn't been for her. She had incited the Slates into taking action against Donovan. She had begged Titus's help. She was the reason he was dead.

"Jack?" Jack looked up to see Julius standing in front of her, he touched her shoulder.

"How is he?" Jack asked, folding her arms over her chest as if it could keep the guilt away. "Is he..."

Julius's eyes darkened and dropped to the ground. Finally, he shook his head and Jack stifled a sob. "He didn't make it, Jack. It was quick. Moments after you left."
Jack dropped her head to her chest and blinked away the tears. Titus is dead. As soon as she'd soon the wound, Jack had suspected that would happen, but still, she'd hoped, thought, prayed...but no. He was dead.

"Donovan?" she asked, still unable to lift her eyes to survey the scene.

"He'll be fine."
Guilty relief swept through Jack. Donovan was fine. He would live. The relief was swallowed by guilt, however. All of this was because of her and Donovan, yet they both escaped unscathed while Titus, good, just Titus, was dead because of them. None of this was fair.

Jack forced herself to raise her eyes from the ground and Julius to the panorama before them. She could hardly recognize the carnage. Dr. Benjamin and Hannah knelt beside Titus's prostrate corpse, Hannah weeping and the doctor putting his tools bag into their bag. His body was hidden by their mourning figures which was just as well. Jack could hardly face him, and the ring he'd given to her seemed to burn a hole through the pocket of her dress. Beside them, Jack saw the body of Clyde Slate lying in the dirt. Shooting him was such a distant memory that Jack hardly recognized the body as her own. She'd killed him.

She expected to feel regret or guilt or triumph at the realization, but she felt nothing, only an aching, hollow sorrow. She had killed a man, but it meant nothing. None of it meant anything now that a man had died.

Then Jack's eyes found Donovan. He sat on the ground with his head between his hands, his body bloodied. His posture showed his utter defeat, and empathy broke through Jack's debilitating guilt. If she felt bad, Donovan must hold himself entirely responsible. All of this was because of him.

She approached him and knelt on the ground beside him, touching his arm and his shoulder. He shuddered under her touch and lifted his face from the crook of his elbows. Jack took in his swollen eye, cracked lip, and the slice along one cheekbone. His eyes welled with tears and he looked at her in utter desperation.

"I'm so sorry, Jack," he murmured through his busted lip, blood dripping from one nostril. "This is all my fault."

Though Jack had accepted the guilt onto her own shoulders, she found Donovan's claim ludicrous. "Of course it's not!" she protested. "It's the Slates' fault, and only theirs. They shot the bullet. They killed Titus."

"But he never would have..."

"That doesn't matter," Jack said, taking Donovan's icy hand in hers and squeezing it as if she could transmit some of her life into him. "They shot him, and they're going to pay." Jack looked to Clyde's lifeless body. "He has to pay."

Jack's desire for vengeance welled into an unquenchable need. Max Slate deserved death for what he'd done, and Jack could not face her own guilt without knowing that she couldn't let this go. Her friend had died because of him.

"Enough's enough, Jack. I'm leaving, and that's all there is to it. Enough blood has been shed," Donovan said, withdrawing his hand from Jack's and rising to his feet with stiff, deliberate movements. "While I was tied up, I saw Margaret sneak Max out the back. He got away, Jack. It's over."

"It's not over, Donovan!" Jack yelled, clambering to her feet with a new fire kindled in her chest. "It'll never be over until you're dead, until we're all dead."

"But, Jack..."

"No, Donovan, no. Look at Titus--he's dead because of Max Slate, and we're going to stop him."

"We tried, Jack, and we failed. Now there's nothing to stop Slate from stringing me up in the middle of Irvington."

Jack's blood ran cold at the realization. There was no sheriff, no one but Oliver to stand in the way. "But we can't just..."

"I'll hand over the deed and leave," Donovan said. "I'll end this."