Bo and Helga had no choice but to launch at the men as they rounded the corner. Helga swung her gun wildly, using it as a mace. Clayton seemed to zero on her, nearly succeeding in shooting her as she dodged a soldier. She aimed her own rifle at Clayton, but by then Bo couldn't focus on her anymore.

With just fists, Bo had to rely on brute strength. She tackled a soldier, slamming his head onto the ground and knocking him unconscious. She was just crawling off him when Aston slammed into her, sending her reeling backward. He lifted his gun, shooting at Bo, and she just managed to duck low and avoid the energy beams as they sailed over her head.

Knowing that retreating would only result in death, Bo instead ran toward Aston and plowed into his middle. They grappled on the ground, kicking up the fresh dust from the storm and gagging Bo as she struggled to smash Aston's face into the ground. He jerked against her, smashing his fist into the side of her head and making her keel to one side. With her weight off him, he managed to flip her onto her back and pin her down with his knees. Her arms still free, she attempted to punch him, but he slammed the end of his gun down on the elbow of her arm, making her yelp with pain, and then holding down her other arm with one of his hands.

Now that she was pinned, he stared at her with pure hatred washing through his eyes. His gun slowly came around to hover in front of her eyes, and once more he was about to shoot her. The last gunshot he'd sent through her still hurt every so often, but this one wouldn't make the mistake of missing her vital organs. This was one was meant for her brain.

"I'm going to be rid of you!" Aston shouted in her face. His rage had turned into something more. A panic-stricken anger. "I'll take my life back by getting rid of yours!"

Bo saw his finger squeeze the trigger. She closed her eyes, all her muscles tensing as she waited for death to claim her.

But no pain came. No blast split the air. No heat cooked her brain. Instead, she opened her eyes to see Aston desperately pulling at a trigger that merely clicked and clicked with no action. She saw the flashing empty light moments before he did, and with the relief of being alive coursing through her, she rammed her knee up hard enough to dislodge Aston.

As he fell over, Bo scrambled to her feet and toward the metal water tank. She saw Adam, miraculously fighting off a militia soldier, a few feet away. He hadn't seen the trouble she was in yet. He was barely holding on himself while the soldier slammed his gun down on Adam's blocking arms. She saw the pain across his face with each blow, and knew she had to get to him. They would be safe together. Together they'd be able to fight.

She was only a few feet away from Adam. Raising her hand, she opened her mouth to call out to him. To bring him close.

But then cold pain exploded on the back of her head. Her eyes burst with black spots and her whole body went limp. Her knees, refusing to carry her any longer, collapsed and sent her slamming into the dust. She barely had the senses to see Aston stepping over her, his gun lowering.

It wasn't a shot, but he'd hit her across the back of the head with the metal end of the gun. Her ears still rang with the impact and she couldn't shake the pain and nausea that washed over her as Aston stood above her. A moment later, he pulled a long knife from a sheath on his belt. It glistened in the light, a long and serrated blade that would have no trouble slicing her open and spilling her life on the ground.

Except that he didn't go for her. He merely stared at her, and then turned. Turned and walked toward where Adam was just slamming the militia soldier's head into the water tank. Adam's back was to them. He wouldn't see Aston, or know that a blade was about to plunge into his ribs. He'd have no idea his death was approaching.

Aston pulled back his arm, aiming his knife for Adam's flesh. Bo couldn't let it happen. She couldn't watch Adam die, not when she knew what it felt like to live in a world without him. She'd suffered through his deaths too many times.

Blinking back the tears that squeezed from her eyes as the white-hot pain coursed through her head, Bo pushed to her feet. In a few steps, she'd caught up to Aston. In two more, she'd slid between Adam and Aston and felt the knife slide into the flesh just below her ribs.

The pain was almost nothing compared to the pounding in the back of her head. She barely registered the sharp sting and the cold feeling of metal against her bottom rib. But her body knew what happened. It shuddered and fell, landing with a thump against Aston's legs. He jumped back, letting her fall into the dust. She yelled in pain as the knife hilt hit the ground and drove deeper into her side, and she forced herself to roll over onto her back.

The sky swam above her, but she saw Adam turn and take in the scene. His eyes landed on the knife in her side, and then swung up to see Aston launching toward him with his gun swinging.

It shouldn't have been a match. Adam was severely injured, and Aston was fresh and strong. It should have been that Aston swung his gun down on Adam's head and knocked him out. It should have been that Aston ripped the knife from Bo's side and plunged it into Adam's heart. It should have been that Bo and Adam died on the battlefield and Aston roared in victory.

But that wasn't how it was.

Aston brought the gun down, but Adam reached up and stopped it from descending on his head. For a moment, they struggled over it. Aston's muscles shook and his knuckles went white against the metal. But Adam's fury held out, and he ripped the gun from Aston's grip and sent it flying.

Just like before. Bo remembered the pain of a gunshot to her middle, and the sight of Aston fighting Adam. But this time, Adam didn't turn back into the Beast of Lyx. He didn't give into animal rage, or lose himself in the bloodlust of his alien past. He remained Adam. Adam who was in danger, Adam who was injured. Adam who saw that Bo had pushed herself up onto her elbows and was reaching for the fallen gun of the militia soldier she'd knocked out a few minutes before.

He only had to keep Aston distracted for a few more seconds. As Adam drove his fist into Aston's middle, Bo picked up the gun and made sure that it had ammunition in it. She swung the barrel around, aiming it at Aston's back. Her hands shook, but she knew there was no other way. They'd let him go before, and it had only brought them misery.

She had to kill him. Despite the love she felt for the brother she'd so long ago lost, she had to pull the trigger to protect all those she loved now. He was no longer Aston. Instead, he was a man filled with hatred and rage, who killed and would kill again if she didn't stop him. She chose Helga, Khan, Esme, and Adam. She chose her new family.

The trigger moved easily, and the gun kicked back against her shoulder. The bullet flew through the air, and with a dancer's grace it slid through his shirt, and right through the skin below his left shoulder-blade. A pink cloud hovered above the wound, and she saw his body stiffen and freeze. His hand, which had been about to bring a blow down on Adam's injured ribs, stuttered and halted. It was as if he'd been frozen in time.

And then, his knees buckled. He fell forward, slamming into Adam, who stepped back and let him fall to the ground.

Bo and Adam stared at the body. Bo could feel nothing. Only a numb buzz filled her mind. Her hands let go of the gun she'd used to kill Aston, and even the knife in her side could do nothing to clear the blank slate of her mind.

Adam glanced up at her, and his gaze sparked her back to life. She saw sympathy in his eyes. A knowing. He did not gloat over Aston's death, nor look relieved. He only looked... sad. And with that, the tears spilled from her eyes as the horrid truth washed over her. She'd had to kill the man who had once been her friend in order to stop him from killing her and Adam. No matter how much she told herself it was the right thing to do, she couldn't stop the violent shaking of her sobs or the fact that her eyes could not stop staring at the still form on the ground at Adam's feet.

Adam made toward her, limping and grimacing, but he didn't get far before she heard the sound of Helga shouting. Turning her head, Bo saw Helga swiping her arm along her bleeding and split lip, and saw Clayton racing along the dust fields away from the burning hoppers.

"He's calling for backup!" Helga shouted, spitting out a glob of blood. There were no more soldiers to fight them, but Clayton was calling in more. If they stood around, they'd be finished as soon as those men with new guns and superior man power showed up.

Bo had no time to mourn Aston or that old life.

Instead, she pulled herself to her feet, gingerly holding the knife in place as she looked toward Helga and held out one arm for Adam. He grabbed her arm, pulling her close. They held each other, both too injured to stand alone, but propping each other up anyway. She felt his warmth, and that vague electric current, wash through her. It gave her strength as Helga ran up to them.

"Forget Clayton," Bo said. "Let's just get out of here."