Ridge looks like he hasn’t slept at all. His shirt is rumpled, and his hair is a mess. He steps out into the corridor and pulls the door closed gently behind him.
“She’s out cold,” he says, keeping his voice down. “What is it?”
“Sixteen Reds are inbound from Mistveil. They should be in our airspace soon.”
He’s already reaching for his phone. “I’m assuming it isn’t hostile at this point.”
“Not at this point…no.”
He nods once. “I’ll brief my team to be safe.”
“Do it.”
He’s already dialing when the sirens start up.
Someone is sounding the alarm.
Ridge and I look at one another.
“Fuck,” he says into the phone. “Hold a second.”
My phone rings.
“Speak to me!” I growl as I answer.
“It’s Gunner, sir, from Lookout Post Three. Mistveil is attacking their own shifters. More shifters are leaving their island en route to us. We have no idea who are friendly and who are hostile. It’s a mess out there. What should we do, sir?”
“What is it?” Carla yells as she runs toward us. “What’s happening?”
“A group of them have broken free,” Gunner shouts in my ear. “More are leaving the island. Holy shit! They’re coming for us, sir. I’m not sure Mistveil can hold them back. There are dozens of the bastards.”
The door at the end of the corridor slams open, and Flint comes through it at a sprint, his cell phone in one hand.
“We’re under attack!” he shouts.
8
Carla
Holy shit!
Holy shit!
Holy shit!
The sirens are screaming.
Magma and Flint exchange a look. I’m panicking. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to put my hands, so I clasp them in front of me.
Robyn comes running out of her office. She’s wearing sweats. Her hair is mussed, and her eyes are bloodshot. She blinks at the three of us.
“Is it the patient? Is he coding? What’s happening?” she asks.
“Mistveil is attacking,” Ridge says, sounding calm.
“What?” Robyn looks at him like he’s just told her the moon is made of cheese.
Magma’s phone starts ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and glances at the screen.
