Chapter 26
Ronan
“If I have to wear this stuff another day, it’s going to stand up on its own.” Cameron picks at the sleeve of his leather jacket, his fingers agitated. We’re going slower than I’d like, the condition of the road so bad in stretches that it almost makes more sense to drive in the dirt. Two days of crawling along have frayed my nerves, the few strands that remain getting weaker every day.
Our gasoline supply is dangerously low, and it didn’t help that I doubled back once for a few miles, because I was convinced I’d driven too far. The mistake cost us precious fuel, and it’s not like I can stop and get more. If we run out, we have to abandon the van.
Which means abandoning the supplies.
Failing Cameron.
We are nearing the village. I know we are, because that deep ditch with a single tree leaning precariously over its edge? I’ve seen it before. It’s a milestone I’ve used in the past, a warning that the road splits a few miles ahead, and I know without a doubt to veer right. Sure enough, the sun- bleached asphalt forms a V, the dilapidated ruins of an old street sign like a grave marker between the two choices. Commander Bravis had me tracking for weeks, so these landmarks are burned into my brain.
But there’s that nagging in the back of my mind.
That insistent worry that I’ve gotten it all wrong.
Memories fade with time and warp with distance, and I’m terrified I’m leading us astray.
“The jacket is to keep you safe,” I say for what must be the twentieth time, clenching my hands on the steering wheel. “You saw how my armor protected me from that sword.”
“Okay, but who’s swinging at me with this imaginary sword? The only one around is you. If you’re hinting at wanting to murder me, just come out and admit it. Honesty is important in a relationship, and all that jazz.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll be sure to ask any potential threats to hold off on violence until you’re fully dressed.”
“Appreciate it!” His voice is overly bright and a little too loud, and I sigh, my fuse dangerously short. Both of us are on edge, the tension from sitting in the stifling car almost overwhelming. Cameron’s usual snark has a hateful edge to it, and my patience is non-existent. My initial optimism of our journey has nearly vanished, eaten up by the uncertainty that sits like acid in my stomach.
Right now, he’s gasoline and I’m a match, and it feels like an explosion is inevitable.
“Um,” Cameron mumbles as I search the horizon, desperate for anything with even the smallest sense of familiarity. “Uh… Ronan?”
“What?” I snap, squinting my eyes as though it might help me see further .
“What’s the traffic like on this stretch of road?”
“Traffic?” Unable to hide the annoyance in my tone, my filter all but disappears. “There is no traffic, Cam… there are no fucking vehicles except the particularly wealthy rebels and the military. If you see another car, we’re probably fucked.”
“Oh… yeah, okay. Ronan?”
“ What , Cameron?” I roar, the sudden noise causing him to flinch, and regret clenches my stomach. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m just stressed and…”
“There’s a car following us.”
“What?” My eyes fly up to the rearview mirror, cursing myself for focusing solely on the road ahead and missing the cloud of dust forming behind us. The vehicle speeds along, quickly closing the distance.
“This would be a fantastic opportunity for you to tell me you secretly shift into, like, a dragon or something.” When I don’t answer, Cameron sighs. “Can we outrun them?”
“Not in this, we can’t. If we had a different vehicle, maybe, but if I attempted to go off-road and hide, there’s no doubt they’d catch us.” A furious stream of obscenities explodes from my lips, my native language making a rare appearance in my anger, and it makes his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You will stay silent and let me handle them. Do you understand?”
He balks at my harsh tone, but tries to cover up his discomfort as he rolls his eyes and wipes away the film of sweat on his forehead. “Geez, is the honeymoon phase over so soon?”
“Be serious!” My thumb hikes over my shoulder at the approaching car. “That is a military vehicle, and I am begging you to follow my lead. Please, for once in your life, listen.” Eyes pinched and lip drawn between his teeth, he nods, and the rare sight of him so unsure cracks my anxious heart right down the middle. I force calm into my voice as I reach over and squeeze his hand. “I do not mean to scare you, okay? Just let me take care of it.”
“Yeah, alright, I’ll be quiet,” he says, voice shaking even as he attempts to hide his nerves.
This is my fault for not paying attention.
My fault for doubling back unnecessarily.
My fault .
If I’d found my way to the village sooner or gotten off the road when they were nothing but a speck in the distance, we wouldn’t be here right now.
Instead, I’ve put him in danger.
He turns to Boomerang and commands her to get down, and I’m shocked when she lowers to the ground, silent and out of sight.
The closer the car gets, the tighter my grip becomes, until my knuckles are stark white, and I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood. It’s a compact vehicle, so there can’t be more than four people inside.
I’ve faced worse odds.
Maybe they’ll pass us and move along, but even as the thought crosses my mind, I know it’s in vain. In the wastelands, you don’t come across others without interacting… it’s just a question of how bloody that interaction is going to be. When they get close enough, I count three heads.
Three.
That’s doable.
“I love you, mo’sziv. ”
“Oh, don’t do that! It’s bad luck and—”
“ Hush ,” I hiss, and he narrows his eyes at me, but stops talking. Engine roaring, the car aggressively cuts across to the other lane, pulling up until our windows are side-by-side. With as much boredom as I can muster, I glance at the men inside.
Sure enough, the three of them are clad in full military leathers, though I can’t see the faces of the two on the driver’s side of the car. The passenger’s assessing gaze meets mine before he addresses the driver. He jerks a thumb toward the shoulder before flooring it, surging ahead, then veering to the side of the road.
One hand on my sword, I pull over behind them.
The passenger climbs from the car and approaches. He belongs to a race called the Ramves, who typically serve as stealth fighters. Sly and quick, their smaller frames are built for agility, not power.
“Afternoon, officer,” he calls, holding both his hands in front of him, peach toned palms facing outwards. It’s a universal gesture the military uses to show when no harm is meant.
His rank pales compared to mine, an enlisted soldier with only three rows, and it’s a fact I intend to exploit. “Afternoon,” I respond as he takes a few steps closer, narrowing his eyes as he glances at Cameron. Thankfully, he’s playing the part of the timid prisoner well, staring at his lap with his hands clasped. “You’ll forgive me for being rude, but may I ask what this is about?”
He flashes me a smile that’s intended to disarm but only makes my gut roll with discomfort. “It’s rare we encounter anyone out here, and we’re always on the hunt for rogue rebels. ”
“Well, as you can see, I am no rebel.”
“Who’s the human?”
I ignore his question, asking one of my own instead. “Do you scout these lands often?” A large military presence would destroy our hopes for a peaceful home, as I can’t allow Cameron to be so close to danger.
“Oh… um, no. We took down a rebel camp about fifty miles from here. Huge one! There were so many of those fuckers inside, it was like an ant colony when they started swarming out.” He mimes swinging his sword and laughs all the way from his stomach, loud and carefree.
I barely keep my snarl under control.
He continues with a giant smile on his face. “Most of our platoon packed up and left, and the rest of us are scheduled to roll out in the morning. We thought a last-minute hunt would be fun.”
“Good job clearing out the rebel scum,” I say with a somber nod, unable to offer much else without giving away my anger.
“Thanks.” He offers me a smile that’s full of sharp teeth. “You never said who your human is.”
“A prisoner,” I answer, putting a touch of threat in my voice. “That is all you need to know.”
“He’s not tied up.”
I force an obnoxious, hateful laugh as I glance at Cameron, who thankfully still stares submissively at the ground. “Tied up? That would imply this skinny excuse of a human offered some sort of threat, and he is no threat… are you?”
Cameron shakes his head demurely, and I turn back to the Ramves, who eyeballs me for a moment longer. “Why don’t you follow us to camp and get a nice, hot meal?” He nods at the insignia on my leathers that identifies my assigned base. “You’re a long way from home, and I’m sure you’re hungry.”
“While I appreciate the generous offer, I am also tight on fuel and cannot spare even a little to stray from my destination.”
“Your destination… you never said where that was.”
“That’s classified.” There’s a cold bite to my tone and his head tilts up, recognizing the threat.
“Right…” The sly smile slips back onto his face. “Well, we can afford a tank of gas for a fellow soldier. It’s coming from the same coffers anyway, am I right? We’ve even got a cage that’ll make a nice sleeping spot for your pretty friend there.”
“What’s taking so long?” A voice booms with such depth, it vibrates all the way to my bones. The driver steps out, and I force myself not to react to the dread that chills my veins like ice.
A Bhotan.
Elite warriors from the other side that are built with a muscle structure so broad, Commander Bravis was a wilting flower in comparison. Their sheer power and aggressive nature make a one-on-one encounter unthinkable, let alone with two others as backup. Regardless of who sits in the back seat of that car, I have to play along.
His presence is a game-changer, and I pray Cameron can stay quiet while I figure this out.
“If you’re sure it won’t inconvenience you to top me off,” I say, my voice tight with skepticism as Cameron stiffens beside me. “A hot meal sounds nice.”
“Great! Hey, I didn’t catch your name? ”
“Regalis.” The sound of my father’s name is bitter on my tongue as it feeds the lie.
“Well, Officer Regalis, I’m Khuth…” He points at the ruddy-skinned Bhotan, who continues to glare. “That’s Brukduuch, but you can just call him Bruk, and the idiot in the backseat is Kek.”
“Shall I follow you?”
He thumps his hands on the edge of the rolled-down window, nodding. “Yep, fall in behind us. Camp is thirty miles from here, so try not to lose us in the traffic.” There’s a suggestive nature to the wink he tosses me before he saunters towards the car. Bruk stares at me for another long second before following, his massive torso barely fitting into the driver’s seat.
“What the fuck was that, Ronan?” Cameron keeps his head pointed at the ground, recognizing that he must maintain the act. “Are you seriously driving us to a military camp? How many soldiers are there that want to squash me like one of their rebel ants?”
“I don’t know,” I grit out, frustration making me want to rip the steering wheel right off the dashboard.
“Then why the fuck are we going ?!” The volume of his voice takes me aback, and I realize it’s panic I hear, not anger.
In that moment, seeing his fear and knowing I’m to blame, I hate myself. I loathe being the one that’s hurting him.
My hand reaches over and covers his. “Did you look up long enough to notice the driver of the car?”
“Sort of,” he mumbles, twisting his hand and lacing our fingers together .
“That man could rip me apart, limb by limb, and not even break a sweat while he watched my blood stain the ground beneath me. The others I could’ve easily handled, but not him. We’ll go to their camp, I’ll spout the same military bullshit I’ve been spouting for the past ninety years, we’ll fuel up the van, and then we’ll get out.”
“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy, Ro.” I squeeze his hand tighter and stay silent, unable to bring myself to disagree.