I gritted my teeth, and I clenched my fists.

Just fucking kill me!

Did God hear me? Did God give a shit? God never gave a shit.

A shot boomed, and in slow-motion, I saw the girl’s dark hair tumble down, down, down.

Marion shot into a stand. But then he just stood there, a sadistic smile playing in his features; he looked back and forth between me and where the girl had fallen just a few feet away. I heard click-click-click-click and I knew why Marion was not running for cover, why he was walking toward Thais casually instead of with caution: the gun she shot the girl with was out of bullets.

Click-Click-Click-Click-Click

The noise stopped, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Thais’ bloodied hand fall and disappear behind the tall grass that concealed her.

No…Don’t you fucking touch her…

The earth moved beneath me; my head spun, my vision distorted; the rage pulsed inside my brain, lending it strength my body did not have. STAY AWAY FROM HER! I saw the black of Marion’s hair cover my face then, and I felt the sting of the back of his skull smash into my face as I speared him from behind. Marion and I fell to the ground and rolled over the tall grass like a steamroller.

I blacked out.

I saw my mother and my sisters; they were screaming at me: “They’re coming, Atticus! They’re coming!” my mother’s voice boomed in my ears. “Save your sisters! Save Josie and Tara! SAVE THAIS!” my mother screamed.

And then in a whirlwind of hair and flesh and faces, my mother and sisters disappeared, replaced by Evelyn’s bloodied and battered face. “You did what you had to do, Atticus,” Evelyn told me, and she reached out her hand. “Kill them all, Atticus. Kill them all!”

And then I saw Thais’ sister, sitting at the window overlooking the street, and when she turned her head to face me, a rope around her bruised neck, I saw that she had no eyes, just black, bottomless holes where her eyes had once been. And she reached out her hand. “You let me die, but don’t let my sister die. Don’t you dare let my sister die!” her white-blonde hair swished around her, and she vanished over the windowsill, replaced by Peter Whitman’s face, and the faces of his wife and daughters even though I had never met them, but I knew it was them, staring back at me with blame and hatred. But they didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. “Avenge our Peter,” their eyes told me. “You owe him that.”

I cried out, my voice carrying over the field. And the voices stopped, and the faces disappeared, and when I came to life again, I was straddling Marion’s battered body, and was covered in Marion’s blood; my chest heaved with violent breath; my arms were straight out at my sides, fists clenched. Blood dripped from my hands.

I looked down as my mind became my own again, and I saw what was left of Marion’s face.

I fell onto my side, and I crawled the few feet over to Thais, pushing through the blinding pain. I lay next to her, both of us bleeding to death, and together we looked up at the sky because we were too weak to turn our heads to look at one another. (I could feel his fingers touching mine; I tried desperately to hold his hand, but I could not move.)

“Do you…see it?” I said, my voice weak, strained.

“See what, my love?”

“The sun. It shines for you, Thais…you know that, right?”

“No…it…Atticus…”

“Everything the sun touches…it’s all…”—I tried to steady my breath—“…it’s all going to be yours someday. Do you…hear me? Thais?”

Three seconds later, Thais found the strength to answer.

“I…I’m still here, Atticus.” Every word was a terrible effort for her.

(I felt Atticus’ fingers inch closer to mine, felt the warmth of his skin moving along the inside of my hand, and even on the brink of death I was comforted by it.)

“Everything under the sun…it’s all going to be yours someday…It will, Thais, because you’re so…good and pure. And you can…change the world. You can tip the scales in…the right direction. Do you…hear me, Thais? Everything the sun touches…”

Five seconds later, Thais, once again, found the strength to answer.

“I…hear you…I love you…”

I fought to hold her hand, and I was so weak I could just barely get a grip on it. Don’t let go of me, love…don’t let go…

“Say it, Thais. Believe it. For me. For yourself. Believe it.”

“I…believe it, Atticus”—(I would have believed in my heart anything he told me.)—“Everything under the sun…will be ours.”