Chapter 33
“I don’t like it.”
We had all dressed and readied for the day before setting out without the suits.
Well, half of us didn’t have suits. Tristian had laid out the plan.
No one countered his orders, but the frustration and apprehension had grown with each word, even as we all agreed.
We needed a lookout—to buy those who went down enough time.
In the event Burdon had sent someone after us.
I was too tired to fight any of it, shouldering the med bag Tristian had carried while we ran. Now we stood in the Abyss.
Isla was without her suit, her eyes worried but determined. Rumi was supposed to go with Patrick but had dug her heels in, saying she was of best use with a gun. She was the second-best shot among the group. Everyone had agreed, even though Patrick appeared distressed by the decision.
Tristian, Patrick, and I stood next to Isla without suits.
A medic was deemed necessary as we entered the tunnel system Tristian had found last time.
As Rumi had commented, a medic would be worthless against bullet wounds this far from Haven.
I had countered that I could shoot the best, but her eyes had raked over every inch of me before turning to Tristian, demanding I go.
That was the end of it. So I stood without a suit, the item Kumar had given me warm from the heat of my skin beneath my shirt.
While everyone had prepared, I’d pulled it out and inspected it. It seemed rather unremarkable. Kumar had said it was a key. I couldn’t fathom how or why it had been left for me, or who had delivered it to him. I ran my fingers over the rough edges, turning it over and over.
It now sat around my neck, tucked away. The necklace was barely visible from the neck of the sweater I had thrown on.
My outfit was an array of borrowed clothing: my patrol pants, a T-shirt from Levi, an extra sports bra from Ingrid, Rumi’s belt, and Damien’s sweater.
They all handed the items over without question as we prepared, making up for the pack I had left behind.
Levi, Damien, Ingrid, and Rumi drew away from us, fully suited. They’d remain behind, armed, buying us time if others came.
Damien handed me a radio. He had been an easy choice to stay. His injury wasn’t a secret anymore. His ankle was already swollen from our run. Tristian was unsure if his ankle would even hold up on the drop down. I couldn’t help but think combat would be just as brutal for him.
“You walkie-talkie us immediately if anything goes wrong.”
His attempt at a joke in a time like this wasn’t lost on me. “I thought they were radios.”
Damien smiled sadly at me. “I doubt we’re in the Force after this. Call them whatever you want.” I turned away, but Damien’s hand reached out, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward him, crushing me into a hug. “I mean it; call us, and we’ll come.”
“I will. You’ll do the same?”
He released me, turning away as he approached Isla. He didn’t hug her; instead, he began their handshake. As he finished, he told Patrick, “Watch over my girl.”
“You do the same,” Patrick said, his eyes flying toward Rumi. Levi walked away from Hayes casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal. His blue eyes locked on mine, that unwavering resolve there.
“We should head out,” Tristian told our group.
“I don’t like it,” Isla repeated.
“It’s not goodbye,” Damien said, determined. “If it is, we go down together.”
We all stood, staring at one another, as a family was asked to do the impossible. In the space of that word, goodbye, everyone’s wounds and scars from the war emptied onto the surface. Quick hugs, encouraging words, and prayers of faith ran about the Abyss as Unit Seven split in two.
“As long as there’s life—”
“We defend it with our own,” Unit Seven answered. Tristian’s gaze swept over the group, nodding before he turned away and headed out.
“Hayes,” Levi called, something like fear breaking his stoic demeanor. “We go out as one.”
“We come back as one,” Unit Seven answered, but Tristian didn’t say it as he moved away. We followed.
“Wait,” Patrick called out. “I can’t go with you guys.”
“Patty, I’ll be—” Rumi began.
“It’s not you, I mean—it is, Rums; it always is, but”—Patrick fumbled with his words, his hand wrapped tightly around his cross, his eyes on Ingrid, not Rumi—“give me your suit, Ingrid.”
“What, no. I’m a good shot,” Ingrid protested.
“You’re a great shot, but you have someone waiting at Haven for you,” Patrick protested.
“I don’t have anyone. They’re all gone. Phoenix didn’t keep Bretta alive for you not to come back.
My sister, my family, they’re gone. Let me buy life more time.
You have a better shot in the tunnels than in gunfire. ”
Ingrid whipped her head toward Tristian, who nodded, and the air filled with suit pieces released as Ingrid shed her exoskeleton. Patrick donned it, tossing her his layers. Within minutes, the two had switched places.
Relief lay heavy on Ingrid’s face as Patrick leaned into Rumi, who couldn’t seem to meet his eyes as he told her, “If you stay, I stay.”
Rumi shook her head as she whispered, “Until the end.”
“Good-looking group you got there, Commander,” Damien whistled. “Go save the world, ladies.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Tristian called. We headed out. I didn’t miss the way Isla’s eyes flew among the three men. A partner and friend, a lover, a something in between…she left them behind. A heavy silence trailed us. Rumi’s biggest regret she had shared all those moons ago kept finding me.
Letting us split up. Not sticking together. Not meeting the end by their side.
Would this be just another regret?
We walked for what felt like forever, Tristian leading the way, cutting across the earth. We traveled in a straight line, following his exact steps. Occasionally, he’d hold up a hand before redirecting us or tossing something ahead, but nothing happened. Not a single trap went off.
“Something is different,” Tristian commented on the third time he did it. He bent down, examining a large rock with an X carved into it. “This is the marker we made, right?”
Ingrid crouched. “It’s the one. This is the floor-dropping trap. I say we still go around it.” We gave the area a wide berth as we walked on. No traps went off. Nothing happened. It only served to increase the unease. A rushing sound met us at some point.
“Is that the river?” Isla asked, turning toward the sound.
“Yeah, it forks down south,” Ingrid informed her. “It’s ahead of us now. Tristian, do you think we need to cross it?”
“Maybe, but doubtful. The entrance is before it, and there’s an entrance on the far bank of the river. They connect beneath,” Tristian said, heading away from the sound.
“Beneath the river?” Isla asked.
“Yeah, the tunnel system is elaborate.”
“Was there anything down there?” Isla asked.
“Not the areas I searched.”
“So there aren’t any people down there?” she asked.
Ingrid went stiff, her hand finding her pistol, her fingertips running along the metal. “You think there are people here?”
“I don’t know,” Isla said. “It just doesn’t make sense.
There are traps to keep us out that reset.
Who’s resetting them? Why make the tunnels so hard to get to?
Why hide the supplies in the first place?
This area was protected from radiation and supposedly has supplies that they told Haven about but didn’t tell us how to get to them.
If they have been here the entire time, more people could have been saved.
Why didn’t these people help others? They had the means. ”
“I don’t know,” Tristian said heavily as Ingrid ran a hand over the shirt he had tied around her head. She hadn’t removed it when we swapped her gear. There was gold stitching on it but I couldn’t make out the design. It looked oddly familiar.
“People are horrible. The war didn’t fix that,” I said. “It made it worse, made it okay.”
No one countered my comment. We walked on for a bit longer before Tristian came to a complete stop.
“We’re here,” Tristian told us, bending to clear debris, revealing an opening. The entrance was big enough for only one person at a time. It seemed like a poor place to extract supplies, assuming we found any. It would be tight for Ingrid and Tristian.
Tristian pulled a rope out, wordlessly handing it to Ingrid.
“It’s for them. It’s about a ten-foot drop.
Don’t go down stiff. I’ll drop down first; I’ll be there to soften the landing for you all.
Ingrid will hold the rope for you two. Ingrid, brace yourself on the sides until you get to the bottom, then drop. I’ll be there.”
We all nodded. Tristian tossed his bag aside as he pulled his hair back, removed his sweater, and stuffed it in his pack.
“See you beneath,” Tristian told us, dropping into the opening. His gaze found mine, and my heart caught as he let go and disappeared from view.
“Send the bags down,” Tristian called up seconds later.
The death grip around my heart eased. We dropped the bags quickly, and then Isla went down.
I followed her, using the rope until strong hands grabbed my side, helping me down.
Tristian’s hands lingered in the dark for a moment before the rope fluttered down, and the light above was completely blocked as Ingrid descended.
A musty smell hung in the air. The tunnel was dark. Isla dug around in the packs. Light illuminated rough stone walls as she handed me a flashlight.
There was an eerie similarity between the tunnel we stood in and the ones we had called home for the past six years, except here the air was stagnant. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
“Medusa and Sunshine, take that tunnel,” Tristian said, pointing behind us. “Phoenix and I will take this way. We come back here if something goes wrong. Stick together. Don’t take unnecessary risks. We’ll find one another if we find something worth inspecting.”