He takes a step and nearly goes down. I catch him, bracing my hip against his.
"Lean on me. We move together."
He doesn't argue. He can't.
We movethrough the forest like a three-legged animal. The undergrowth tears at my jeans. Branches whip my face. Every step is a negotiation with gravity.
Kade is fading. His steps are heavier, breathing shallower. The strongest man I've ever met, and he's dying on my shoulder.
Steel, Wren. Use the steel.
We make it maybe half a mile before snapping twigs stop us cold.
Not behind us. Ahead.
"Patrol." His voice is slurring. "Flanking maneuver."
He tries to raise the Glock. His hand shakes so badly the muzzle wavers.
"Cover." To our left, a massive pine has fallen, its root system torn up into a shallow earthen cave. "In there."
I drag him toward the deadfall. We slide into the hollow beneath the trunk, the smell of damp soil and rotting wood closing around us. I push Kade to the back and curl my body in front of his, blocking his sightline from the trail.
Boots crunch on the forest floor. Close. Twenty feet. Maybe less.
A light beam sweeps the trees overhead.
"Sector four clear." Low. Professional. "Moving to the ridge."
"Copy." Radio static. "Sweep wide. Target is wounded. Follow the blood."
Follow the blood.
We lie frozen. Kade's head is heavy on my chest. His heart is beating too fast—a fluttery, frantic rhythm that doesn't belong in a body this size.
When the footsteps fade, I still don't move. Not yet.
"Wren." Barely a breath.
"Shh."
"Listen to me." He grips my hand, fingers slick. "You need to go."
"Shut up."
"I'm slowing you down. Leaving a trail. Take the gun. Head east. The ridge?—"
"I said shut up." I sit up and pull the trauma kit from his belt.
"Wren. Look at me."
I snap the infrared glow stick and hold it close—dull ghostly purple, invisible from a distance. In its light, Kade is the color of old paper. Lips nearly blue. The left sleeve of his henley saturated, blood dripping steadily onto the dirt.
"You're going into shock."
"If they find us, we both die. If you run?—"
"If I run, I survive?" The trauma shears are in my hand. I cut his sleeve open from cuff to shoulder.
