Page 148 of Our Violent Ends
In a flash, Roma lunged at Dimitri. Before Dimitri could gather his bearings and recover from the pleas of the workers, Roma was distracting him again by turning his pistol skyward, the trigger squeezing and shooting a bullet right up into the air. Juliette, taking the chance, raced forward and tore open one of the bags near Dimitri’s feet. She turned it upside down, scattering the clumps of blue all across the other bags, spread evenly upon every single one of them.
A heavy grunt. Dimitri—writhing out of Roma’s hold. In the tussle, the pistol flew three feet away, clattering into a pool of blood, but instead of chasing after it, Dimitri only spun around, heaving with his hatred. He pushed Roma hard, almost slamming him to the ground. Then, before Juliette could get out of the way, he sighted her with the bags, and his boot collided with her stomach.
Juliette landed sharply on the gravel, wincing when it tore scratches into her elbows. The gasoline on the ground soaked into the wounds. Roma hurried to her aid and hauled her upright again, but it was no matter. The scene was set. Behind Dimitri, the monsters started to lumber near.
They needed to come closer. Just a little closer.
Roma reached for Juliette’s hand. Something about it felt entirely natural even as the world stuttered to a halt around them. It would always be that same feeling as when they were fifteen: invincible, untouchable, as long as they were together. His fingers, solid and steady while they were entwined with hers.
With her other hand, Juliette flipped open the lighter. She met Roma’s eyes, asked him in silence one last time if they were truly to do this. He showed no fear. He was gazing at her as one would gaze out into the sea, like she was this vast, momentous wonder that he was glad simply to bear witness upon.
“To have and to hold, where even death cannot part us,” Juliette whispered.
The monsters howled into the night. Loomed closer.
“In this life and the next,” Roma returned, “for however long our souls remain, mine will always find yours.”
Juliette squeezed his hand. In that action, she tried to communicate everything she couldn’t put into words, everything that didn’t have a spoken form other thanI love you. I love you. I love you.
When Dimitri stepped forward, when the monsters finally approached within good range, Juliette turned the spark wheel on her lighter.
“Don’t miss,” Roma said.
“I never do,” Juliette replied.
And with Roma’s nod, she threw the burning flame onto the bags of highly flammable vaccine.
“What could be taking so long?” Benedikt demanded. He had his foot on the pedal. They needed to be ready to go the very second Roma and Juliette appeared.
Alisa whimpered from the back seat. Marshall strained against the rear window, waiting to see if anyone was coming up the street and within sight.
The ground beneath them seemed to shudder. One thump. Another.
Then Marshall turned around, swearing so loudly his voice cracked. “Go, Benedikt, go!”
“What? But—”
“Drive!”
Benedikt pressed down on the accelerator, the car tearing through the street so suddenly that its wheels shrieked into the night.
Behind them, with gasoline drenched into every square inch of the pavement, the explosion rang so loud and hot that all of Shanghai rocked with the blow.
Epilogue
April 1928
There is scarcely any movement around this part of Zhouzhuang, scarcely any sound at all to disturb Alisa Montagova as she kneels by the canal, foldingyuánbaoout of silver paper. She doesn’t think that they much resemble the ingots they are supposed to look like, but she is trying her best.
Today is the Qingming festival: Tomb-Sweeping Day. A day of veneration for ancestors who have passed away, for gravesite cleaning and praying and burning false money into the afterlife for the dead to use. Alisa has no ancestor to pray for in Shanghai. In Shanghai, there are only gravestones, laid side by side over empty graves.
Nobody had argued against it. With the explosion twelve months ago, the papers the next day had gotten ahold of a marriage certificate that sent the city into an uproar. A certificate that showed Roma Montagov and Juliette Cai married, bound together this whole time while the blood feud tore the streets apart.
Alisa adds anotheryuánbaoto her pile. In truth, the certificate never existed. But Alisa heard their vows that night, eavesdropping instead of going to sleep. She had forged the document and sent it to the press. The blood feud may not have fallen apart immediately, but that was the first moment it started to fragment. If their heirs did not believe in the feud, why should the common people? If the heirs had died for each other, what was the basis for their people to keep fighting?
They had buried them together. There were no ashes, no bones. Kept apart in life, allowed together in death.
At the thought, Alisa sniffles suddenly, finding her nose to be running. She didn’t believe it. The first time she saw their gravesite, she had dived at the headstones, trying to carve the engravings right out.
