By the time Connor parked his car in the parking lot, I was a mess of nerves.

I mentioned that I didn’t think the aquarium was a particularly romantic outing, hoping that he’d get the hint. He seemed disappointed—this was one of the last weekends it would be open before it shut down for good in preparation for the asteroid strike.

This was one of the last opportunities Connor would ever have to visit, and I couldn’t deny him that…even if I chanced running into Shane.

So I plastered a smile on my face and pretended to be talked around to the idea.

Word must have gotten out about the closure because the parking lot was crowded. Connor had to drive around a few times to find a space.

As we walked to the main entrance, my gaze swept over the workers, most in volunteer aprons. Shane wasn’t among them.

Connor took my hand and from the quick look he gave me, he could tell my palms were sweaty. Gross, but it wasn’t like I could control it.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Just…” I struggled to come up with something. Anything. “Seeing the aquarium shut down makes Betty feel more real. It’s stupid.”

His expression turned sympathetic. “It’ll be okay.”

I tried to smile, but it came out shaky. “You said it yourself. Everything will be okay until it suddenly isn’t.”

“But we will be. We have a plan. Come here.” He drew me in, his big arms wrapping around me in a hug. I laid my cheek against his shoulder and closed my eyes. And despite everything, I did feel safe in his embrace.

After a moment, I drew back. “Okay.”

I can do this, I told myself.

The lady at the front booth informed us they weren’t taking admissions for this last weekend. The reason for that was soon made clear. Almost every exhibit had a new printout by the information panel explaining when and where the different animals were going to be released back into the wild.

I noticed there wasn’t a lot of info on what they were going to do with the larger mammals. The otters, seals, and sea lions brought in for rehabilitation and had grown dependent on human beings for food and care. Maybe they’d be released to take their chances like the rest of us. Or maybe they’d be put down. It might be kinder.

I did my best to pay attention, nod and make small talk as Connor pointed out details in exhibits. The colors of the jellyfish, the life-sized skeleton of a whale that seemed to swim over our heads, the ever-circling sardine fish tank.

But I couldn’t stop glancing at the staff members. Most seemed to be going about their jobs, answering questions and paying extra special attention to the kids. Kudos for not letting the thought of the future weigh them down.

Shane was nowhere to be seen.

Connor and I stopped in front of a massive twenty-eight foot tall kelp forest tank. Sharks and larger fish lazily swam through the upper portions of the waving kelp while smaller prey fish darted nervously in the shadows. It was beautiful, and I found myself hoping that something of this would be left in the world after Betty hit.

Ugh. Go away depressing thoughts.

I glanced away from the fish and to the nearby families. The kids ranged from toddlers to ten or so, and all had the same light of discovery and wonder in their eyes. The little ones came forward to pat the tank as if they could pet the fish inside.

Connor nudged me.

“Huh? What did you say?” I asked, my attention snapping back to him.

In answer, Connor nodded his head toward the other side of the room. The entire display was constructed like a stage with the kelp forest tank dominating the middle space, with entrances and exits on either side.

One man stood apart from the rest of the crowd. The false sun from the tank overhead illuminated his unkempt beard and ratty jacket. His jeans were crusted with mud at the knees…and he was hitting himself, hard, in the forehead with the meat of his palm.

Mental illness, or drugs.

As if he heard my silent judgment, his head jerked up and he met my gaze. The light wasn’t good in the room—most of it was reserved for lighting the top of the kelp forest—but I swear his eyes were like fathomless pits.

A chill ran up my spine. I backed up a half step.

I was so busy watching the man’s breakdown that I didn’t register the movement out of the corner of my eye until the yelling started.

Five people in dark shirts and pants stormed into the viewing room. Two were women, three were men, and all had their faces covered with ski masks.

They rushed forward, shoving families aside to get to the giant tank.

“Free the fish!” one shrieked. “Animals aren’t here for your entertainment!”

Two of her friends took out red spray paint cans and started to spray the glass. In the garish half-light, the red looked black.

“What are they doing?” Connor yelped.

It wasn’t a question that required an answer. I knew. We both did.

Extremist groups on both sides of the political spectrum had grown bolder the last few months—religiously militant sects on one side, crunchy environmentalists on the other. They looked like they came from the second group.

While the women sprayed the glass, one of the men came at the tank with a sledgehammer. He swung at it, but the glass was made of sterner stuff than he was. It bounced off without leaving a scratch.

“Come on.” Connor tugged at my hand to draw me away. I shook off his grip.

Most of the families, children, and staff had wisely headed for the exit. Even the crazy guy was nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, I had stood there, staring.

But I wasn’t scared. I was angry.

The asteroid was coming closer and closer every day. Good places like this were shutting down all over the world. This was one of the few weekends people had left for entertainment and simple, happy moments.

And these selfish assholes had ruined it.

They’d scared families with children for no reason. And why? They weren’t going to change anything. This wasn’t going to make anyone’s life better—not even the marine animals that they wanted to “save”. These people were just pricks.

One of the women was still shrieking her slogan, her voice high and strident. I wanted to slap her.

“Astrid!” One of Connor’s warm hands wrapped around my arm. This time he tugged me hard. “Come on.”

The fear in his voice was what snapped me out of it. I turned and left, hating myself for my inaction.

One of the vandals must have pulled a fire alarm because a shrill ring rang through the whole aquarium complex. The lights turned from soft blue to red and exit signs lit up everywhere.

Staff in uniforms ran back and forth, calling out directions and telling us last stragglers where to go. Connor pointed them back towards the way we came. “They’re in there. I think they want to destroy the kelp forest exhibit.”

That got them all heading in the same direction. I watched them go, too upset to speak.

I should have done something.

Connor pulled me onward through deserted pathways. We were the only ones left and the displays felt like a maze.

Someone stepped in our path. His dark clothing had led him sink into the shadows, and for a second I thought he was another staff member. Connor halted. When the man moved forward into the light, I saw why.

He was another protester, but unlike the others, he held a gun in one hand.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Connor said. “We’re just leaving.”

The man raised his gun. “You can go. The girl stays.”

“Excuse me?” I blurted.

I couldn’t see much past the ski mask, but I could tell he was leering. “You heard me.”

“You don’t want to do this.” Slowly, very slowly, Connor reached into his pocket. “I have cash. How much do you want?”

The man laughed. “Money is not worth shit anymore. Only a few things are.”

His gaze flicked to me. There was a heaviness in his eyes, a lust I could actually see. It disgusted me down to my core. I felt my lip curl in revulsion, and my hands curled into fists at my sides.

“That isn’t going to happen.” Connor moved as if to put himself more firmly between me and the gunman, but I stepped forward.

A part of me knew I wasn’t thinking right. It was like all the anger inside me, everything I had been pushing down for the last couple months, had finally broken free. This man had nothing to do with my bitter disappointment over not getting picked for lottery, or the slow, eroding loss of control over my own life.

The asteroid hadn’t even hit yet, and the most value I had was between my legs.

At that second, I felt broken open to the marrow. Everything had become crystal clear in my mind. My anger—no, my rage—was deeper than I had ever felt before. My blood was molten with it.

I am going to kill you, I thought, and took another step forward. My body was strung as tight as a bow. You may shoot me but I’m still going to kill you.

“Astrid!” Connor yelped. “Don’t go with him!”

I spared one second to be disgusted with Connor. I wasn’t going to let this creep touch me. I was going to make him regret that he had ever been born.

I caught movement to the side; a thin spear of light as a side door to a maintenance tunnel opened. Someone peeked out.

It was Shane.

My eyes met his, but I had to look away because in the next second the gunman had thumbed the safety off his weapon. His gun was pointed at my chest.

Things happen so quickly that, looking back, it was hard to recall the order.

Shane threw open the door. He carried a fire extinguisher in his hands—no doubt he’d been alerted by the fire alarm—and pulled the pin. The gunman turned, hearing the noise, and caught a gout of white fire retardant in his face.

I leapt forward, intending on helping Shane take him down. I weighed less than the man, but I had momentum, surprise, and a fountain of rage on my side.

I got maybe two steps.

Strong hands wrapped around my middle, yanking me roughly to the side. It was Connor, trying to pull me away while Shane did the dirty work of tackling the extremist all by himself. I screamed.

The gun went off.

It wasn’t like in the movies. The gunshot in the enclosed area was so loud I could hear nothing else for a few endless seconds. Not even myself yelling Shane’s name. In the billowing cloud of white fire retardant, I saw only vague shadows. Someone was down, but I couldn’t tell if it was the gunman or Shane.

Connor shoved me forward. He was so strong.

In the confusion I had forgotten that we couldn’t run back toward the direction of the kelp forest. The only way to the exit was past this man. My foot hit something on the ground, and the grunt was too raspy to be Shane’s. The gunman, then. I made sure to step hard on him as I passed.

A second pair of hands gripped my arm. Although I could see nothing within the white cloud, I knew who they belonged to.

I helped Shane stand back to his feet.

Then, we all ran.

* * *

We made it outside, coughing and choking. The moment we were in the clear, Connor pulled me from Shane and into his arms. “Astrid! What the hell were you thinking?”

“I—” My gaze snapped to Shane who was watching us with wide eyes.

Then Connor pulled back, his big hands circling my shoulders. He gave me a shake like he was scolding a child. “Don’t ever, ever put yourself in harm’s way like that again! I was going to pay the guy off.”

“Connor, calm down. I’m fine.”

“You could’ve got shot!” He was getting angry now. At me. For… what? Getting threatened? Damn it, that was not my fault.

I twisted away. Thankfully he let me go. “I didn’t get shot. I am fine,” I repeated and turned to Shane. “Thank you for your help. Are you okay?”

I’m sorry, I thought, pleading with my eyes. I’m so sorry, but don’t tell Connor that you know me…please…

“Yeah, I’m good.” There was white flecks in his hair from the extinguisher, and a red mark just under his left eye. I wanted to touch it—touch him, just to make sure he was really okay.

I lifted my hand but Shane turned away, his expression pinched and angry. “Someone should tell the police that at least one of them had a gun,” he said, and strode off.

Only then did I realize that the cops were arriving at last. Like everywhere else, the city’s police force was chronically understaffed. Reports of rogue graffiti protestors probably weren’t high up on their lists, but a crazy would-be rapist with a gun would be.

The first policeman out of his car had such deep purple bags under his eyes from exhaustion that he looked like he had two black eyes. Shane approached him and began speaking quickly. The officer gestured to the others, spoke into the radio on his shoulder, and rushed towards the aquarium with guns drawn.

Connor’s hand found my waist. I worked not to flinch as he pulled me around to face him again. “I’m sorry, Astrid. You should know that no matter what else happened, I wouldn’t have let that guy…do anything.”

Oh yeah? By doing what? Making it rain twenties on him?

I looked away. “I know.”

I lied like a rug. If it weren’t for Shane, I don’t know what would have happened. He had been the real hero.

Connor’s anger with me seemed to have fled. He gazed down at me, warm and admiring. “You looked like you wanted to rip that guy apart. I had no idea you were such a little spitfire.”

Spitfire. Like I was a little girl doing a funny trick. But Connor was smiling, and I wondered if I was just being too prickly.

This felt like one of those moments where I should say something equally sappy back. Like, thank you for protecting me. We make a great team—you make all the decisions, and pull me along when I say no.

…eh. Or not.

Instead I dredged up a smile and said, “Well, I grew up with you and Asher as playmates. I got tough.”

Connor grinned then looked around. “I need to thank that worker with the fire extinguisher, too. Where did he go?”

We both looked around. Shane was nowhere to be found.