"And you have carried this burden alone for seven years."
"Yes."
Ayana watched him.
"You were protecting someone."
"My brother."
"He is gone."
"I know."
Her voice softened.
"But you are still protecting him."
Ethan looked at her.
She continued.
"You have spent seven years fighting a dead man's war."
Ethan swallowed.
"I don't know how to stop."
Ayana leaned closer.
"Perhaps you stop by living."
The words struck him harder than any bullet.
Outside, a horse screamed.
Everyone stood.
A young warrior rushed inside.
"Riders!"
Whitehawk grabbed his rifle.
"How many?"
"Too many."
Ethan stepped outside.
The ridge was dark.
Torches moved across it.
Mercer had returned early.
And he had brought more men.
Ethan counted them.
At least fifteen.
Maybe twenty.
Whitehawk's warriors prepared along the rocks.
Ayana took her place beside them.
Ethan looked at her.
"You should go inside."
She shook her head.
"No."
"Ayana."
"I chose you."
"This isn't a game."
"I know."
"People could die."
"I know."
"Then please."
She looked at him.
"Do not ask me to abandon you."
Ethan stared at her.
He realized something.
Ayana was not standing beside him because she believed he was invincible.
She was standing beside him because she believed he was worth defending.
For a man who had spent seven years believing he was better alone, that knowledge was terrifying.
Mercer's voice echoed from the darkness.
"Ethan!"
No answer.
"We know the map is here!"
Ethan stepped onto the ridge.
Mercer saw him.
"Come out."
Ethan raised his rifle.
"You know I'm not going to surrender."
Mercer laughed.
"Then we'll burn the village."
Ethan's eyes hardened.
"You won't."
"Why?"
"Because I know you."
Mercer frowned.
"You think you know me?"
"I know what you fear."
Mercer smiled.
"And what is that?"
"Being exposed."
For the first time, Mercer's expression changed.
Ethan continued.
"You don't want the map."
"You want what the map proves."
Mercer said nothing.
"You want the names of the men who bought those weapons."
Mercer's eyes narrowed.
"And you have them?"
"Yes."
A lie.
But Mercer did not know that.
Ethan continued.
"I also know where the records are."
Mercer stared.
"Where?"
Ethan smiled.
"Come get them."
Mercer raised his rifle.
The battle began.
The Valley Burns
Gunfire shattered the night.
Bullets struck stone.
Arrows flew from the darkness.
Mercer's men tried to advance through the narrow valley, but Whitehawk's warriors knew every rock and ridge.
Ethan moved from one position to another.
He fired only when necessary.
He was not trying to kill.
He was trying to slow them.
Ayana fought beside him.
She moved silently.
Her arrows found weapons, belts, hands, and horses.
She never wasted a shot.
At one point, Ethan saw Mercer approaching from the western side.
"He's coming around!"
Ayana nodded.
She disappeared behind a rock.
Ethan followed.
They reached a narrow passage.
Mercer was there.
He had brought three men.
Ethan fired.
One man fell.
Another ran.
Mercer ducked behind a boulder.
"You're still the same, Ethan!"
Ethan crouched.
"No."
"You think these people changed you?"
"No."
"You were always weak."
Ethan stared across the darkness.
"My father died because I trusted you."
Mercer laughed.
"Your father died because he got in the way."
Ethan's expression became cold.
"And Samuel?"
Mercer hesitated.
That was enough.
"You killed him."
Mercer looked away.
"Your brother made his choice."
Ethan's hand tightened around the rifle.
Ayana touched his shoulder.
"Do not let him choose who you become."
Ethan breathed slowly.
Mercer suddenly fired.
The bullet struck the rock.
Ayana released her arrow.
It hit Mercer's rifle.
The weapon fell.
Mercer stared at her.
"You."
Ayana stepped forward.
"You came into our home."
Mercer reached for his revolver.
Ethan moved faster.
He kicked the weapon away.
Mercer swung.
Ethan blocked the punch.
The two men crashed into the dirt.
For seven years, Ethan had imagined this moment.
He had imagined killing Mercer.
He had imagined watching him beg.
But when Mercer lay beneath him, Ethan suddenly realized something.
Revenge would not bring Samuel back.
It would not restore his father.
It would not erase seven years.
Mercer smiled.
"Do it."
Ethan raised his fist.
Mercer waited.
Ethan lowered it.
"No."
Mercer looked confused.
"You've spent seven years waiting for this."
"I know."
"Then kill me."
Ethan stood.
"No."
He stepped away.
"You will face everyone you hurt."
Mercer laughed.