“Leg’s locking up,” Imara replied through clenched teeth.
“Switch your gait. You’re leaning too hard right.”
“I don’t need you to coach me, Patch.”
“Don’t fall over, and I won’t have to.”
They moved like that, a tangle of exhaustion and shared grit, across the last stretch of crimson sand.
Finally, Nadine slowed her pace and pointed to a narrow fold in the mountain looming before them. “There. Inside that crevice.”
It looked like just a shadow, but the subtle slope led downward. One by one, they disappeared into the darkness.
The shift in temperature was immediate. A cool relief after the sun’s relentless blaze.
Nadine opened a metal chest that had been cleverly tucked into a gap between stone. From the chest, she withdrew three small torchlights. “You’ll need these until we reach the hideout.”
With torchlights lit, they eased down the slope. The sounds of their boots echoed, mingling with groans, heavy breathing, and the subtle clatter of someone’s gear. Then the cave widened, opening into a small cavern.
It wasn’t massive, but they’d be able to roam freely. Scavenged insulation panels lined one side. Supply crates stacked against another. Two battery lamps hung from hooks drilled into the stone. And from the far side of the cavern, a narrow waterfall streamed down the rock face, pooling at the base into a shallow basin. The sound of water, gentle and steady, masked everything else.
“Fuck me,” Imara said, flopping to the ground. “You mean Reva actually has running water?”
“You’d be surprised how many underground caverns do,” Nadine answered, turning on the battery lamps. “The Systems just doesn’t want you to know so you can stay beholden to their ‘charity.’ ”
Christian exhaled hard. His spine ached, his shirt clung to him, and his shoulder throbbed. But none of it mattered. Not now, anyway.
“Supplies are here.” Nadine opened a nearby crate. “Blankets. Protein packs. Battery rations.”
Imara unhooked her prosthetic and set it beside her before leaning back, eyes closed. “Well, that sucked.”
Hawk sat cross-legged beside her, his shirt soaked through. “I’ve had worse.”
“That’s because you only have one eye. You remember half as much pain.”
Christian tuned them out, stepping to where Gemma stood in the center of the cave, trembling. Her whole frame seemed caught somewhere between fight and collapse. There was a tremor in her hand, and her shoulders curled in on themselves like she was bracing for another blow. A violet tattoo on her arm glowed faintly, from her fingertips to just above her elbow.
That was new, but it somehow suited her.
He tilted her chin up. “Look at me.”
Her eyes met his, reluctant and heavy. A ring of violet had formed around her pupils, blending with the blue as if the color were here to stay.
“You’re free,” he said quietly.
Gemma blinked slowly, and a tear rolled down her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb.
“Come here,” he said, nudging Gemma passed the waterfall into a shallow cavity. Christian flicked on the torchlight and setit next to him on the ground before drawing her into a tight embrace. She held onto him as if he were the rope keeping her from floating away.
When she dropped her head against his chest, his shirt shifted, and hot pain lashed at the wound in his shoulder. He couldn’t keep himself from wincing.
Gemma’s head shot up, and she stepped out of his hold. “Your shoulder . . .” Her chin quivered. “I should get—”
He pulled her back into his arms. “It’s just a nick. I’ll be fine.”
“But if I don’t clean it—”
“Just let me hold you, okay?”
