Vaelor
She’s so warm.
Two weeks of this as her shoulder healed. I’ll never get enough.
That’s the first thing my brain offers me when the light hits. Warm, and tucked against my side. Her breathing is slow against my collarbone, like she has every right to be there. She does.
One of her legs is hooked over mine. Her hair is in my mouth.
I don’t move.
Everyone else is a mess around us. Kyron diagonal across the bottom of the bed. Locke dead to the world, mouth slightly open. I hope he’s drooling. Beckett curled on Nova’s other side with her fingers tangled in his — they fell asleep that way. Trey is somewhere on the floor.
Rane is awake.
I can tell because his weight is shifting too carefully.
A hand starts to creep under the blanket. Slow. Like he thinks I won’t notice.
It moves toward Nova’s hip.
I catch his wrist without opening my eyes.
“Damn, man,” Rane mutters.
“She’s mine. Wait your turn.”
“You’ve had her all night.”
I open my eyes.
He’s grinning at me from across Nova’s body. Hair everywhere. Pillow crease down one cheek. Absolutely no shame.
I smirk back.
I do not release his wrist.
Nova makes a sound — half laugh, half complaint — and burrows further into my chest.
“Stop fighting over me,” she mumbles into my skin. “I’m sleeping.”
“He started it.”
“He always starts it.”
“True.” Rane is unbothered. “In my defense, you’re warm and she’s prettier than you.”
“Debatable.”
“Vaelor.”
“Hmm.”
“He had me last night anyway.”
I don’t think I’ve seen a grin so big on Rane’s face before.
“I did.”
She huffs.
I feel her smile against me.
Outside, someone shouts.
I catch it before the others do. Not a scream. Not panic. Just too loud for this early.
My body tightens immediately.
Boots on gravel. Two people, one of them with a heavier gait.
I exhale.
“Guess that’s our cue to get up.”
Nova groans. Loud. Aggressive.
“No.”
“Sweetheart.”
“No.”
Kyron stirs at the foot of the bed. Mumbles something into the mattress that sounds like a threat.
Locke does not move.
Beckett’s eyes are open. I didn’t see them open. He’s looking at the door already.
He looks my way.
I nod once.
He nods back.
Then we hear Zoe’s voice. Outside. Pitched slightly higher than usual, calling for Cal.
Nova goes still against my chest.
“Son of a —”
She’s already pushing up on her elbow.
Then we’re all moving.
Rane laughs, scrambling for pants — whose pants is unclear, possibly Locke’s. Locke comes awake fully. Standing before I’ve finished swinging my legs off the bed.
“Where —”
“Outside,” Beckett says, already at the door. “Brent and Max are back.”
“They left two days ago.”
“They should still be gone.”
Locke goes still for half a second. Then he’s pulling a shirt over his head.
“Fuck.”
Kyron is up. Rane gives Nova one last kiss on her temple — quick, like he can’t help it, like he hasn’t already kissed her three times this morning — and she swats at him.
“Move.”
“Bossy.”
“Move.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and pull my pants on. My hand finds the small of her back through the blanket. I rub once, slow. She presses into it.
“Take your time, sweetheart.”
I bend down. Kiss her forehead. Stand up.
I head for the door.
Something is wrong. I know it the moment I step out the front door.
People are standing in groups they wouldn’t normally be standing in. The neighbor’s door is open and no one is in it. Two of the kids are halfway through chores and are stopped. Staring.
The supply truck is parked crooked.
It’s still full.
Max is standing next to the driver’s side door with his hands braced against the metal. His head is down.
That tells me more than any of the rest of it.
I’m already thinking about the unloading order without thinking. Med kits first if it’s bad. Dry goods can wait. The fuel cans on the back have to come off before we move the truck.
The truck has to be moved.
He parked it pointed out.
My hands are cold.
I keep walking.
Nova is behind me. I can hear her bare feet on the boards of the porch.
She’s quick.
“Vaelor —”
“I see it.”
Rane gets to Max first. Drops a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey. Hey. Talk to me.”
Max looks up.
His face is dry but past dry. Road dust on his cheekbones. Cracked lips. The look of a man who didn’t stop to drink water because stopping meant slowing down.
“Got water?” Rane asks, already turning to wave one of the older kids over.
“They’re coming,” Max says.
“Hey. Water first. Brain second.”
“They’re coming, Rane.”
Brent comes around the back of the truck.
His coat is covered in dust. He’s not even pretending to be casual.
He looks at me first.
“How bad?” I say.
“Bad.”
I’m already moving.
I’m not aware of deciding to move. Med building is two structures down.
We have three full kits, six partial, the morphine count I checked last week was — I have to check it again.
The generator behind the school has fuel for eight days at normal load.
We do not have enough water containers if we have to move.
“How long,” Locke says behind me.
“Not enough,” Brent says.
“Be more specific.”
“Three days. Maybe four. If we’re lucky and they get held up at the river crossing, five.”
“Numbers?”
He shakes his head.
“Mobilized. That’s all we know.”
Silence.
That’s when I notice the Hollow has gone quiet around us.
“Coordinated?” Kyron asks.
“It’s the Order.”
I nod.
“They pulled units from Whisper.”
“Pulled them how?”
“Visibly. They don’t care if we see anymore.”
Kyron makes a small sound.
I know that sound. He’s not happy.
Join the club.
“They’re coming for her,” Locke says. Flat.
“Yes.”
“Specifically.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll…” Her voice from behind me.
“NO!” Six of us shout at once.
I turn to her. Her eyes are wide and I realize now she wasn’t going to say she’d give herself up.
“I was just going to offer to help.”
I nod. Put my hands on her shoulders, lean forward and kiss her forehead.
“Sorry, just after…”
She pulls back. “I get it.”
She smiles, turns and heads toward the Community Hall. Already looking for something to do.
I’m already turning toward the med building.
“Beckett.”
“Yeah?”
“Inventory. Everything. Med, food, ammo, fuel, water. I want numbers by lunch.”
“On it.”
“Locke.”
“Get every able body who can hold a weapon into the square in an hour. I want to know what we have and what each of them can actually do. Not what they think they can do.”
“Got it.”
“Kyron.”
“Already drafting it.”
He hasn’t moved. He’s standing exactly where he was. He’s focused. Has been.
“Routes,” I say anyway.
“Three. North through the pass is the only one they don’t have a line on yet, but it’s seventeen miles of open ground. Second option is the Memory border but that’s only viable if Minerva —”
“Yes.”
“— okay.”
“Third?”
He pauses.
“Linda.”
The name sits there.
Brent’s head comes up.
“Linda? You heard back?”
“No, nothing yet,” Kyron says. “Vaelor?”
“Draft all three. I want to know where we stand if we have to leave quickly.”
He doesn’t answer, already working.
“Rane.”
He’s still crouched in front of Max with a water bottle.
He looks up.
“You’re going to need to talk to people.”
“Yeah.”
“Not the speech kind. The don’t panic kind. Pick six people who other people listen to. Get them in the Community Hall tonight at 7 pm.”
“Done.”
“And Rane.”
“Yeah?”
“The kids.”
His face changes.
It’s small. It’s just the corners of his eyes. But Rane has a specific face for the kids of the Hollow and that face just appeared.
“Yeah?”
“Whatever you need to make it normal for them. Whatever stories. Whatever games. I do not want them learning what mobilized means today.”
“Got it.”
I turn.
Trey is on the porch. He came out behind us at some point. He’s already talking to Zoe.
Brent is watching me.
“You alright?”
It’s not really a question.
“Fine.”
“Vaelor —”
“I’m fine, Brent.”
He keeps looking at me.
“You went pale.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah.”
I make myself breathe in. Out.
“Show me the maps.”
“Now?”
“Now.”