Silence settled over the lobby.
Christopher and Lucy stood a few paces apart, breathing hard. Near the broken wall, Sydney remained in front of Billy's body.
Nobody lowered their guard.
"I… is he dead?" Christopher asked.
The question sounded absurd even to him.
Billy's body was broken. He had been shot repeatedly, his neck twisted by Lucy's kick, and then driven through a wall.
But he had kept moving after injuries that should have killed him.
Christopher could not stop watching for another yellow tendril.
Sydney stared down at the body.
"He is."
"You're sure?"
She nodded.
"I don't feel any threat from him anymore."
Only then did Christopher let his gun dip.
Sydney remained where she was for another moment.
Had she killed him?
Or had Lucy and Christopher's bullets already done that, leaving the Plasma to move a body that could no longer survive on its own?
She could not tell.
What troubled her was how little she felt.
