Rye grinned, a terrible grin when the boy's knife stuck into his jacket but didn't penetrate his skin. He jerked back, carrying the knife with him. Rye used the gun in is hand as a club. The boy's skull making a dull crunching sound as he dropped like a sack of grain. Rye pulled the knife loose and launched himself at the bat wielding assailant. With no words, he grabbed his hair, pulled back his head and slit his throat the way he would have slaughtered a goat.<br/><br/>Blood, warm and sticky, covered his hands, spurting on Emery. He tossed the boy aside with no more thought than he would give to a mosquito. Rye had come to grips with this senseless killing and now he was ready to do what he needed to do to survive. He would face the end with Emery as he came to it. He knew he would not kill her, and he would do what he must to see to it that both of them survived. Out of the corner of his eye, Rye thought he saw a red flash heading toward the tunnel. He stiffened his spine. The choice was not easy but simple all the same. He could do nothing for Eden even if he protected him from attack.<br/><br/>Something primitive crept over Rye as he eyed Emery. His heart was racing and his breath was heaving. She was beautiful, rich and alive and by God, he would see to it that she remained such.<br/>"When this is over, " he gritted between clenched teeth, longing and desire coursing through him, " I promise I will make love to you . We can forget the ugliness."<br/><br/>His attention was diverted by the stealthy rustling in the trees overhead and the cessation of the mockingjay's songs.