The dust whipped around Bo in a sudden torrent. Forced to squeeze her eyes shut, she only heard the thrumming of an engine and the rumbling vibrations in her bones. Heat blew over her, and when she finally pried her eyes open she saw that Silver's airship had landed a few feet away. Esme leaned over the railing closest to Bo and Adam, and waved her arms vigorously. A rope ladder flapped against the side of the airship, ridiculously unstable but still the greatest thing Bo had ever seen in her life.

Helga appeared at Bo's side, peering at her and Adam. "Think you can make it up the ladder, Adam?" she asked.

Adam gritted his teeth and stared at the long climb to where Esme waited for them. "Well, I don't have much choice, do I?"

"What about you, Bo?" Helga asked.

"Please, it's just a little stab wound," Bo said, snorting and then immediately regretting it when it jostled the blade still lodge in her side.

Helga raised her eyebrows, looking thoroughly unconvinced. "Wow, yeah, you both seem totally capable," she said. "I'll make sure not to stand at the base when you're climbing. I don't want to get crushed when you fall off."

Bo rolled her eyes, but knew Helga was probably right. She barely had the strength to walk, and somehow she'd have to haul herself twenty feet upward. And Adam had it even worse, with his broken ribs and hours spent under torture. She'd be surprised if they didn't fall off and crush Helga.

Not wasting any more time, they approached the ladder, and despite her threat, Helga did stand at the base and keep the end steady. Bo smiled her thanks as she grabbed the first rung and began her ascent.

It was torture itself. Her arms shook with the effort and her side felt like her skin was splitting each time she lifted her legs to place them higher on the ladder. Sweat beaded on her hairline and slowly dripped down her cheeks and neck. The sound of the airship faded, replaced by a loud ringing and the sound of her own stilted breathing.

But then the railing was in sight, and Esme's hand reached down to grab her forearm. With her help, Bo hauled herself the last few steps and collapsed on her back to gasp the air and wait for her body to stop shuddering. Esme stared at the knife jutting from Bo's side with eyes larger than normal.

"What happened!" she gasped, her hands fluttering over the hilt but knowing better than to remove it when they didn't have medical supplies around.

Bo grunted. "Can't speak," she choked out. "Tell. You later."

Esme nodded and glanced over to where the rope ladder was strained tight under another weight.

"I'm going to help Adam now," Esme said. "Will you be all right by yourself for a while?"

Bo flashed a thumbs up, and tilted her head back to close her eyes and fight off the dizzy cloud that fogged her mind. She wasn't even aware of drifting off, but she must have because she jerked back into reality after hearing Adam's voice somewhere nearby. Her eyes flew open to see the orange sky above her and Adam lowering himself painfully to sit by her side. His eyes watched her with worry, and she smiled to hide the fact that she had passed out from him.

"I asked how you were feeling," he asked, resting a hand on her stomach.

"Peachy keen," she replied, laying her hand on his.

"I can't wait to get out of here!" Helga's voice crashed into the moment. Bo strained her neck to see Helga just climbing over the railing and bending over to catch her breath. Her eyes scanned the deck, taking in Adam and Bo, and then over to where Khan propped himself against the driver's seat and nudging levers and buttons to keep the airship steady.

"Khan!" Esme shouted. "We're ready to go!"

"All right!" He pressed a few more buttons and then pulled a lever down. The airship shuddered and then began to rotate slowly to get around the tanks and burning wreckage of the hoppers to face the dust desert. "It's a bit tricky to get around in here, but we should be out in a few minutes."

"Just hurry up," Helga said. "We don't want Clayton getting back with more men before we can get out of here."

Bo pushed herself up on her elbows, opening her mouth to join in the conversation. But before she could say anything, she saw a pair of hands grab the railing from the rope ladder. She wasn't sure if she was seeing it correctly, and squeezed her eyes shut for a second to see if she could clear her vision. But when she opened them again, the hands had been joined by a head and a burning glare.

"It's Clayton!" she shouted, but by then it was too late.

Clayton pulled himself onto the dock, whipping out a knife and snatching Esme by the arm. She didn't have time to get away before he yanked her to his chest, facing outward, and pressed the blade to her neck. Blood beaded up almost instantly against her tanned skin where the edge bit into her skin, and she drew in a shaky breath and froze as Clayton wrapped his arm firmly around her waist.

"Hello again, Forlorn," he snarled. "I thought it would be rude to leave without saying goodbye."

"Put her down, Clayton!" Khan shouted, but he couldn't move from the controls. He had to stand with his hand on the levers keeping them in the air, and watch as Clayton pressed the knife even tighter to Esme's skin.

"What do you want, Clayton?" Adam asked, pulling himself up to standing by holding onto the railing on the opposite side of Clayton. "You have no backup and your right-hand man is dead. This is a losing battle."

"Well, unlike you, I don't mind making sacrifices for the greater good," Clayton responded. "I have a feeling that I have all the power right now, because you don't want this beautiful specimen to die. So, if you want her pretty little throat to remain intact, you'll land the airship right now and turn yourselves in."

Clayton's grip tightened around Esme's torso, but he couldn't see what she was doing while he was staring at Adam. But Bo saw Esme carefully reach her hand into a pocket on her dress, and bring it back out again in a fist. She was holding something. She had a plan. And sure enough, when Bo's eyes traveled to Esme's face, she glanced down at her hand and then to Bo. She widened her eyes, trying to let them know without letting Clayton know. Bo nodded, just slightly, and glanced to see that Adam had seen Esme's signal as well.

Now they just had to trust her.

"We're not going to surrender," Bo replied, her voice raspy but strong. She couldn't get to her feet yet, but she still glared at Clayton. He looked shocked for a moment, and then angry. Gone was the flippant man who wouldn't have been riled by such obvious bluster. He was snapping, getting tired and frustrated. Which meant he was getting sloppy.

"You want her to die?" he said, squeezing Esme's waist so tightly that Bo saw her flinch.

"Of course not," Adam replied. "But we're not going to lose to the militia."

Clayton laughed, but his voice was wild and uncontrolled. "You want to win so badly you'd sacrifice the girl? Well, it seems like that alien blood in you wasn't all just myth and rumor."

"No, I'd do anything to beat you, Clayton," Adam replied. Clayton froze for a moment, and Bo could see Adam's words were getting to him. Adam pressed him more. "Why do you think the Forlorn has been such a pain to the militia? We wanted to take you down. We wanted to watch you humiliated and weak. Powerless and incompetent."

Clayton's breath increased. Over the years, Adam had grown to know Clayton, and he knew his weakness. What was Clayton without his power? All of them knew that the answer was nothing.

Clayton's teeth grit together so hard that Bo could hear them crunching even from where she sat. "See how humiliated I am when I gut this nomad like a pig!"

His fist tightened on the blade, ready to swipe it across Esme's throat. But before he could move any further, Esme jerked her arm backward into his side. He gasped in pain as she twisted away from him, sliding easily out of his grasp as he clutched at his side with wide eyes. His hand came away slick with blood and his eyes tracked the thin blade Esme clenched in her fist.

"You witch!" he gasped, losing his footing for a second before regaining his balance. The blade had gone deep.

Esme ran to where Khan held out one arm to her. She slid behind him, her hand resting against the angry line that Clayton's knife had left across her neck. Clayton tried to take a few steps toward her, but Helga stepped between them. Her gun still had no ammunition, but she held it out against him as a barrier. He held his knife in a shaking fist, staring at Helga, then Bo, then landing on Adam.

"I suppose this is it for me," he snarled. "The Forlorn has won."

"You can have a fair trial," Adam said, taking a few steps forward. "Just admit your crimes."

Clayton huffed out a laugh as blood-tinged spit foamed at the corners of his mouth. Esme's blade had gone deep indeed.

"I'd rather die here," he said. "The militia doesn't care much if you live or die, as long as you fulfill your mission."

"What does that mean?" Bo asked, her heart speeding up though she didn't know why.

"It means," Clayton said, smiling grimly. "That I'll gladly die if I can still destroy The Forlorn. And what better way to do that, then to take out the leader they all look to with such loyal strength."

"What," Bo said, trying to force herself to her feet. "What are you talking about, Clayton?"

Clayton clenched his knife, holding it in front of him as he stepped forward. Then forward again. Then again, and again, until he was running across the deck of the airship.

Bo watched in horror as he cut the distance between him and Adam in a few seconds. "Clayton!" she roared, shoving herself onto her knees and halfway to standing. She scrambled around for a gun, a knife, anything that she could use to stop him. But her hands only came away with blood.

And then she remembered she did have a weapon. One Aston had given her in his final moments. And one which would now hopefully save Adam.

Reaching down, she wrenched the knife from her side with a roar of pain. It slid out with a sickening squelch, and weighed heavy in her hand as she felt the blood pour down her side. She didn't have time to notice the dark shadows closing in on her vision, or how her skin prickled and she stopped sweating. She only had time to draw back her arm and send the heavy blade swirling through the air.

Her aim was slightly off, but it still found its mark. The knife sunk deep into Clayton's shoulder, sending him staggering. Adam had just enough time to step to one side, Clayton's blade only sliding a thin line across his arm, but otherwise harmlessly slicing through the air.

But Clayton didn't get off so easily.

His momentum carried him forward, and without Adam's body to stop his forward motion, he just kept falling. He hit the railing with his hips, and his weight tottered him. For a brief second, he balanced on the edge of the railing, his feet lifted off the ground. Then, he slid forward, his eyes wide and the knife falling from his hand.

He fell over the railing with no more sound than his body whistling through the air. They didn't even hear him slam into the ground, though they saw him a few moments later when the airship had made enough distance for them to watch as he was left behind. Even from twenty feet up, they could tell he was dead. His arms and neck twisted to one side, and his legs to another. Bo closed her eyes against the sight, feeling sick.

But it perhaps wasn't the vision of Clayton splattered on the ground that made her insides heave.

As soon as her eyes were shut, she knew she wouldn't be able to get them open again. In fact, her whole body felt like it was shutting down. Her side was warm and sticky, and it spread as the wound bled more and more. She'd probably shifted something she shouldn't have when she'd pulled the knife out, but she didn't care. If it meant saving Adam, she'd pull out a thousand knives.

A moment later, his voice came to her. "Bo! Bo, you idiot!" he shouted, and she vaguely felt his hands on either side of her face. She wanted to open her eyes to see him, but they were just too heavy. She settled on listening to his voice, deep and familiar, until that too faded away into nothing.