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“You stay here, they’ll find you.”
“Then they’ll findbothof us,” she fires back.
That should frustrate me.
It doesn’t.
It—
It does something else entirely.
Mila
Gunfire cracks again above us.
Closer this time.
They’re sweeping the ravine.
Systematic.
Relentless.
We don’t have time.
I rip open his vest—hands moving fast, efficient—checking the wound again.
The bandage is soaked through.
Too much blood.
Way too much.
“Okay,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.
“Okay… okay… I’ve got this.”
He watches me.
Not arguing.
Not pushing.
Trusting.
That—
That hits harder than anything else.
I grab my pack, yanking it open.
Ammo.
Extra mags.
Medical kit.
Everything I shoved in there before I left—
