Imara winked. “I’m holding you to that.”
With the tension broken, Nadine continued their trek through the maze of streets until they slipped into a quiet, narrow stretch of the Industrial Belt. At the far end, Gemma’s sister stopped beside what looked like a rusted service hatch sunken into the wall. She pried it open to reveal a black vertical shaft, the faint glint of rope rigs and metal braces disappearing into the dark below.
“Welcome home,” she said simply.
One by one, they stepped through. The hatch clanged shut behind them, sealing the city—and its chaos—above.
The deeper they climbed down the rope rig, the air grew heavier. Damp and chilly. The thrum of the surface was gone, replaced by a muffled quiet that made every footstep sound too loud.
According to Nadine, this former reservoir had been carved straight from Reva’s mineral-rich ore centuries ago, its walls smoothed into an immense bowl to hold the city’s water reserves. But when the stone’s seams shifted, fracturing the basin, it was declared unstable, drained, sealed off, and forgotten.
The Dissent had claimed it. They’d drained away the last ofthe stagnant water, patched the cracked walls with scavenged alloys and scrap plating, and carved channels into the stone as ventilation shafts. Rows of makeshift canvas tents stretched across the basin, raised on platforms of scavenged scaffolding and braced steel beams. Metal grates had been strategically inserted into the base of the reservoir to allow the condensation to drain. Battery lamps stood at every tent’s opening and had been positioned throughout the entire camp, providing ample illumination.
It wasn’t much, but it was the Dissent’s. A city beneath a city, hidden in a place no one else would dare to look.
“Boss is back!” someone shouted from a large tent to Christian’s right.
The sound rippled fast through the camp. In seconds, a small crowd formed, pressing closer until Nadine stepped out into the open. She didn’t smile, but she lifted a hand in greeting. A few people clapped her on the shoulder. Others nodded with that unspoken acknowledgment between people who had survived another day.
A tall man in his thirties pushed forward, clasping Nadine’s forearm before looking over the rest of them. “More recruits?”
Nadine shook her head. “My sister and her friends. They needed a place to lay low. They’re under my protection.” Her tone left no room for argument.
He gave a short nod and motioned for them to follow. “I’m Jebro. I’ll get you situated.”
The tour was quick but thorough. The north section included living tents that were small and close together, each with a thermal mat and a single hanging lamp inside. To the east was the mess tent, where stolen foods were organized behind wire mesh and algae sheened a faint green in shallow troughs. The south housed the armory and the electronics tents, which were guarded by people with weapons slung tight to their chests. Andin the west section was medical, where the smell of antiseptic was sharp enough to sting his nose.
The command tent sat on a raised slab near the center, its flaps drawn back just enough to see a table covered in maps and comm logs, and it was there that Nadine spoke with two other Dissent members. Both wore pistols on their waists.
They ended the tour back near the living tents. Jebro handed them each a cloth tag and gestured toward four tents spaced side-by-side.
Imara glanced at Hawk then smirked. “We only need one.”
Hawk’s ears matched his red hair, but he didn’t argue.
Christian looked at Gemma out of the corner of his eye, and despite the fatigue on her face, there was the smallest hint of a smile.
“One for us too,” he told Jebro, taking the tag.
From the corner of Christian’s vision, an older man walked past with a heavy toolkit slung over one shoulder, and something about his gait caught Christian’s attention. Then the man turned his head, and Christian’s stomach sank.
His dad was in Tent City.
Christian’s father looked at him for no longer than a passing glance before continuing on his way.
“Food’s in the mess,” Jebro continued while Christian stared after his dad. “Showers are behind the med tent. There are clean clothes in chests just outside the bath stalls. Take whatever you want. You’re Nadine’s guests—no one touches you unless they want to lose a hand. You want to walk the perimeter, walk it. You want to sleep for a week, sleep. You’re safe here.”
Christian touched Gemma’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”
He caught up to his father easily, grabbing the man by the shoulder and turning him around. Christian’s dad stared at him with an emotionless gaze.
“What are you doing here?” Christian asked.
He moved to leave, but Christian stepped in front of him.
His dad huffed. “Lysa brought me with her when she left that Gallowood place. She thought it was better I be here, away from the Systems. Since you apparently burned that bridge.”
Christian’s hands tightened into fists. Heat rolled up the back of his neck. He opened his mouth to snap at his dad when Gemma’s soft, gentle hand slipped into his.
