“Stop what?”
“Stop blaming yourself for the burns. I can feel you guilting yourself, and it needs to stop.” She handed the water bottle back to him, her expression fierce despite her exhaustion. “I made that choice, Ben. I knew the cost, and I chose you anyway. That’s not something you get to feel guilty about.”
Maybe she was right. “You shouldn’t have had to choose.”
A small shrug. “Maybe so, but I did. And I’d make the same choice again.” She reached out and found his fingers despite the way his hands were wrapped around one of the stretcher’s poles. “We don’t have time for guilt. Right now, we just need to focus on getting through the next few hours.”
Ben squeezed her hand, then forced himself to let go and focus on the terrain ahead. She was right. Guilt was a luxury they couldn’t afford.
They reached the ravine system a little over an hour later. The terrain dropped sharply and created a natural channel running southwest toward the portal site. Water had carved the path over centuries and left smooth stone walls on either side that rose at least fifteen feet above their heads. The ravine provided good cover, but it was also a funnel. If DAPI discovered them while they were making their way through, they’d have nowhere to run.
“This is it,” Morse said and paused to double-check the route on her tablet. “From here, we’ll follow the ravine for three-quarters of a mile. It opens into a clearing about a hundred yards from the portal site. That’s where we’ll be exposed.”
“And that’s where we need the diversion,” Sidney said. She knelt beside the phoenix and pressed both hands to the one small patch of clean fire that remained. “How much time do you need to coordinate with Hargrove?”
“Five minutes, maybe ten at the most.” Rebecca pulled out a slim black phone Ben hadn’t seen before. He didn’t recognize the model and wondered if it was some kind of government issue, something that would allow her to contact Eric Hargrove on a secure channel. “I’ll move ahead and set up a position where I can see the portal site and confirm the positions of the DAPI agents,” she continued. “Once I give Eric the signal, it’ll take him around three minutes to trigger the containment failure.”
“Three minutes.” Ben looked over at Sidney. “That’s how long you’ll have to reach the portal before DAPI realizes the diversion is a distraction.”
Her chin lifted. “No problem. I can cover a hundred yards in three minutes.”
“While you’re already exhausted and carrying a dying phoenix?” He tried to keep his voice level, but he knew his worry had bled through despite his best efforts. “Sidney, be realistic.”
Her clear gray eyes flashed with irritation. “I don’t have the luxury of being realistic.” She stood, her legs shaking slightly. “The phoenix needs to be at the portal when I start the merge. There’s no alternative. So I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
Ben wanted to argue, but movement in the ravine ahead made him freeze. Rebecca had her weapon out immediately, even as she gestured for silence. They all pressed against the stone wall and waited as voices echoed down the channel.
“ — should be getting hazard pay for this. Rosenthal has us posted out here for sixteen hours straight — ”
“Quit complaining. At least we’re getting some real field time instead of pushing papers at HQ.”
Two DAPI agents walking patrol. Ben watched them pass the ravine entrance thirty yards ahead, completely unaware of the three people and dying phoenix pressed into the shadows behind them. Their conversation faded as they moved on into the forest.
“They’re running regular patrols,” Rebecca said in an undertone once the men were out of earshot. “That wasn’t in Eric’s intel. Rosenthal must have adjusted her deployment sometime in the past hour.”
“How does that change our approach?” Sidney asked.
“It doesn’t. We just need to be more careful.” Rebecca checked her watch. “I’m moving ahead to scout the portal site and coordinate with him. Give me fifteen minutes, then follow the ravine until you see my signal. Two quick flashes from a red light means it’s clear to approach. Anything else, you abort and fall back.”
“And if we don’t see any signal?” Ben asked.
Rebecca Morse gave him a grim smile. “Then something went wrong, and you need to get out of here immediately. Get the phoenix somewhere safe and wait for me to contact you.”
She was gone before either of them could respond, and moved up the ravine with the kind of silent skill that Ben might have admired under different circumstances.
Now, though, he could only think of how alone he and Sidney were.
“We should rest while we have the chance,” he told her. “Drink more water. Eat something if you can.”
Sidney shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
Anxiety and fear had probably killed most of her appetite. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try to cajole her into eating. “I don’t care. You’re about to attempt something that’ll require every ounce of strength you have.” He pulled an energy bar from his pack, unwrapped it, and pressed it into her hands. “Eat. That’s not a request.”
She didn’t seem to have the strength to argue, so she took the bar and chewed mechanically while Ben checked the phoenix’s condition. The creature’s breathing was labored, each inhalation a visible struggle. The corruption had spread even further during their rest stop and left only a patch the size of his palm around the phoenix’s heart still clean.
They were cutting this way too close.
Their margin for error was effectively zero. If Sidney lost herself even slightly during the merge, if she couldn’t hold on to what made her Sidney Lowell, then she would stay merged forever. She’d become a hybrid entity with her memories but not her consciousness, something that used to be human but wasn’t anymore.
