Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
KYREN
My lungs burn as if someone stuffed them with broken glass and ash. Each breath tastes like sulfur and dirt, and I wonder if this is what hell feels like. I press my shirt over my nose and mouth, but it barely helps. The fabric is already gray with volcanic dust.
“This is insane,” I wheeze, stumbling over loose rocks as we climb the winding road. The visibility is maybe ten feet in front of us, everything beyond that swallowed by the thick haze. “We’re never going to make it back to the damn data center.”
Matheo’s voice cuts through the murky air ahead of me. “Just keep following the road. We’re more than halfway there.”
“How can you possibly know that?” I cough violently, and I swear I can taste pieces of my own damn lungs. “We can’t see shit in this smog.”
If I get through this alive, I swear I’m never touching another vape pen. The irony of dying from smoke inhalation after years of voluntarily filling my lungs with flavored fumes isn’t lost on me .
Cash’s voice drifts back from somewhere in the gray mess. “Kyren’s right about the visibility, but we’ve been walking for over an hour. Turning back to the car now doesn’t make sense when we’re this close.”
“This close to what?” I stop walking entirely, hands on my knees as another coughing fit doubles me over. “We don’t even know if the data center is still standing. What if the volcano has already destroyed it?”
“It’s a geothermal facility,” Lucas calls out, his usual cheerful tone strained but determined. “It’s literally built to withstand volcanic activity. Dr. Chen said they have emergency protocols.”
I straighten up, wiping ash from my eyes. The stuff gets everywhere—in my hair, down my shirt, coating my skin like gray makeup. We look like zombies shuffling through the apocalypse.
“Emergency protocols,” I mutter. “Great. Hope those protocols include miracle cures for lung cancer.”
Through the haze, I can just make out Matheo’s silhouette. He’s stopped walking too, probably waiting for me to catch up. The guy’s in better shape than I am, all that hiking with his camera equipment paying off.
“Look,” I rasp, my voice barely recognizable. “I’m just saying we should consider our options here. The car might not be comfortable, but at least we know where it is.”
“The car with the cracked engine block and no phone signal?” Cash drawls sarcastically. “The car that’s sitting next to a giant fissure in the earth?”
“Better than wandering around in this toxic cloud,” I snap back, then immediately regret it as the outburst triggers another coughing spasm.
Matheo’s form materializes beside me. “Hey, you okay?”
I wave him off, still hacking. “Peachy. Just having second thoughts about this whole jungle adventure. Next time Cash wants to do a wilderness trek, he can lick my ass.”
“Don’t threaten him with a good time.” Matheo coughs out a laugh. “We’re almost there. I hear generators running.”
I strain to listen, but all I hear is the distant rumble of volcanic activity and my own labored breathing. Maybe Matheo’s right. Maybe we’re closer than I think. Or maybe the ash and smoke are playing tricks on all of us.
That’s when I hear it.
Faint but unmistakable, cutting through the volcanic haze and the sound of our ragged breathing.
My name.
“Trinity?”
I freeze, tilting my head to listen harder. The others must not hear it because they keep moving, Matheo’s hand slipping from my shoulder as he takes another step up the road.
There it is again. Distant and distorted, but definitely Trinity’s voice calling my name.
“Guys,” I call out, my voice cracking. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Lucas asks, coughing.
I turn in a slow circle, trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound. It seemed to come from above, which makes no sense unless I’m going crazy.
Then I hear it again, louder this time.
“Trinity!” I shout as loud as my damaged lungs will allow, cupping my hands around my mouth. “TRINITY!”
The ash swirls around us like a whirlwind, but no answer comes back. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe the volcanic fumes are making me hallucinate. Maybe this is what happens when you inhale too much sulfur dioxide .
But then I smell the distinctive scent of cranberries and spices.
“Kyren, what the hell are you doing?” Cash’s voice cuts through the ash-filled air, sharp with panic.
I’m already jogging back down the road, my damaged lungs screaming in protest with each step. The volcanic haze grows thicker as I move away from the data center, swallowing me in a gray soup that tastes like the devil’s armpit.
“Come back here!” Matheo shouts behind me. “You’re going in the wrong direction!”
But I know what I smelled. Trinity’s scent cuts through sulfur and ash like a lighthouse beam through fog. She’s here. She’s actually here. Somewhere in this volcanic nightmare.
My feet stumble over loose rocks and debris as I push forward, squinting through the murk. Each breath feels like swallowing sandpaper, but I force myself to keep moving. The road curves ahead, disappearing into the gray void.
“Trinity,” I call again, my voice cracking like a teenager’s.
For a moment, there’s nothing but the distant rumble of the eruption and my wheezing. Then I hear it again—faint but unmistakable.
“Kyren!”
A flash of lavender fabric appears through the trees to my right.
Then I see her—Trinity, pushing through low-hanging branches, her hair wild with ash and her face streaked with gray dust. She looks like she’s been wrestling with the volcano itself, but she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
She breaks through the undergrowth and runs straight into my arms with enough force to knock me back a step. I catch her, pulling her tight against my chest as relief floods through me so intensely it makes my knees weak.
“Thank, fuck,” I breathe into her hair, not caring that it’s full of volcanic ash.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her hands framing my face. “What the hell are you doing out here? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be out here?”
I respond by kissing her. Hard and desperate and probably tasting like sulfur, but I don’t care. She’s here. She came for me. For us. This incredible, brave, insane woman flew into an active volcanic zone to rescue four idiots who got themselves stranded.
Trinity melts into the kiss for exactly three seconds before laughing and gently pushing me away.
“There will be plenty of time for that when we aren’t in the path of an erupting volcano,” she says, but her eyes are bright with affection despite the scolding.
The sound of approaching footsteps crashes through the underbrush as Matheo, Cash, and Lucas catch up to us. They emerge from the haze looking like extras from a post-apocalyptic movie, all gray dust and shell-shocked expressions.
“Trinity?” Matheo’s voice cracks with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
She waves at them, a gesture so casual it would be comical if we weren’t literally standing in the fallout zone of a volcanic eruption.
“Helicopter rescue,” she says simply. “The pilot’s waiting just down the road. We need to move now. The ash is getting worse, and there’s been seismic activity.”
Lucas whoops with joy, then immediately dissolves into a coughing fit. Cash just stares at Trinity like she’s a mirage that might disappear if he blinks too hard .
“You hired a helicopter,” I say slowly, still processing. “In the middle of a volcanic eruption.”
“I bribed a helicopter pilot,” she corrects. “Triple his usual rate, plus hazard pay. Irwan wasn’t exactly cooperative until I threatened to call every travel influencer I know and tank the resort’s reputation.”
Of course she did. Of course, Trinity Jones, the woman who plans impossible events for impossible people, would negotiate helicopter extraction from an active disaster zone.
I realize something as she takes my hand and starts leading us down the road toward safety. Something that hits me with more force than the volcanic ash in my lungs.
I want to spend the rest of my life letting her come to my rescue.