Chapter 13
Finn
The light changed first.
It was subtle—a shift in temperature, the sun slipping lower behind the ridgeline, bleeding warm gold across the canopy. The trail underfoot softened into loamy moss and pine needles, the crunch of rock giving way to a muted hush that swallowed our steps.
We were getting close.
I let Saoirse take point, not because I couldn’t have led—hell, I’d mapped this section myself for excursions before we’d even opened the doors to Out of Bounds Scotland—but because watching her work was…
enlightening. She hadn’t spoken much all day beyond little check-ins here and there about pace, water, direction.
But with every step, she impressed the hell out of me.
She carried herself like someone who knew her place in the wild.
Not as a tourist, not as someone trying to prove something, but someone who belonged.
The terrain hadn’t fazed her once. Steep inclines, ankle-snapping divots, damp ground slick with leaf mold.
She handled it all with easy, unflinching awareness.
If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought she was leading me.
Behind us, Ajax worked his loop. Nose to ground, breath steady, every movement economical. He’d fallen into that razor-sharp headspace I recognized from deployment, where the world narrowed to scent and instinct. And I’d started to do the same until a rustle of map paper snapped me out of it.
Saoirse stopped up ahead, one hand steadying her compass, the other unfolding her worn topo map. She studied it for all of three seconds, then adjusted her heading without comment, stepping off the trail onto a game path I’d completely missed because I’d been too focused on her.
I quickened my pace to catch up. “You always this good with a compass, or is it only when you’re trying to impress me?”
She didn’t look up. “If I were trying to impress you, I’d have let you get us lost first.”
I barked out a surprised laugh. “Fair.”
She kept walking, but a second later— there it was . A smile. The real kind. Quick, a little sideways, but it lit up her face like someone had pulled back the clouds.
I stumbled on a root.
Ajax gave me a look like, get it together, mate.
She surprised me. Constantly. And I hated how much I liked it.
“Pretty sure that smile added an extra mile to the hike,” I muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I adjusted the strap on my pack and tried to focus.
We crested a small ridge, the trees thinning to reveal a clearing ahead. The gentle slope, mossy undergrowth, a half-circle ring of stones blackened from old fires told me this was Isla’s first station.
Saoirse stepped into the space like someone walking into a cathedral. Reverent. Searching.
“She was definitely here,” she said softly.
I nodded, moving to check the perimeter. “Tent broken down. No signs of struggle or distress. Looks like she packed out properly.”
“She always does.” She knelt near the fire ring. “She’s methodical. Stubborn as hell, too, but she wouldn’t leave this place a mess.”
I circled the site slowly. Nothing screamed “emergency.” But something still felt… off. Like the echo of a presence, just out of reach.
Ajax moved through the clearing like he was cataloguing it. No alerts, but his posture was different. Not the confidence he’d had earlier. More like anticipation. Like he was waiting.
“She’s not here.” Saoirse rose to her feet. “But she was. And recently.”
I nodded, casting another glance across the clearing. It felt like walking into a room still holding someone’s breath. The quiet buzzed faintly with what had almost been.
“Trail’s still readable,” I said. “Subtle, but there. She headed northwest, same as her last report. If we push hard, we’ll make it to her second camp by nightfall.”
Saoirse adjusted the strap on her pack. “Let’s do it.”
I crouched to unclip the sat phone from Ajax’s gear, thumbing the antenna out with a practiced motion. “Give me two minutes. Check-in window’s about to close.”
She gave a short nod and moved to sit on a mossy stone at the edge of the clearing, pulling her water bottle from its holster. Ajax padded over, nosed at her knee, and flopped down with a grunt that said five hours is enough, thank you .
I keyed in the frequency.
“Nomad to base, come in. Over.”
A pause. Then Callum’s dry, unmistakable tone crackled over the line. “This is Ghost. You’re behind schedule.”
“Good to hear you too, sunshine.” I crouched, keeping my voice steady and low. “We reached Isla’s first research site. Camp was packed out clean. No signs of distress. We’re following the expected heading to the second site now.”
Static, then: “Any deviation in trail?”
“Nothing major. Ajax is confident. Wind’s in our favor.”
Callum grunted. “Weather’s holding through evening, but expect a cold front to move in late. Watch your elevation.”
“Roger that. Estimated arrival at second camp by 2100 hours. Will update then.”
“Copy that. Keep your head down, Nomad.”
“Always do. Nomad out.”
I tucked the sat phone back into my pack and stood, rolling my shoulder until it popped. When I looked over, Saoirse was watching me.
Not merely looking— watching . Like she was trying to line something up in her head.
I raised a brow. “What?”
She didn’t blink. “I thought you’d talk more.”
That caught me off guard. “Now or in general?”
“In general.” She took a sip from her water bottle, then capped it slowly. “I don’t know. I assumed you’d be more of a running commentary type. You know—jokes, banter, class clown with a compass.”
I let out a short breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Class clown?”
She lifted an eyebrow right back. “I’ve seen you in town, Finn. You hold court with a grin and a pint in your hand like it’s your full-time job.”
Touché.
I could’ve deflected. Should’ve, maybe. But I adjusted the strap on my pack and said, “Maybe I’m conserving energy.”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “Or maybe that’s not actually who you are.”
That landed harder than it should have. Not because she was wrong. Because she wasn’t. Parker had said much the same, hadn’t she? But somehow, I hadn’t expected Saoirse to see through the act. And I certainly hadn’t expected that to come without judgment or challenge.
And I couldn’t decide if that made me want to let her in or throw up another wall.
I swallowed, shifted my weight. “Sometimes you need someone to keep morale up.”
It wasn’t the whole truth. But it was enough for now.
“I appreciate you managing mine.” Without further comment, Saoirse stood to hoist her pack onto her shoulders. “Come on. Long way yet.”
I watched her for a second longer than I meant to. Then I followed.
And for the first time since this whole thing started, I wondered what else she’d seen that I hadn’t meant to show.